Laying on the guilt is instinctual. I know this because my almost-21-month-old daughter has become an expert. Out of nowhere she will start repeating "I sowy, I sowy" for no apparent reason. We can be driving in the car and the refrain will start coming out of the back seat, or we will be playing in the living room and she will look up at me an say it ever so sweetly.
It kills me. I am concerned that if someone overhears her saying this without provocation they will think I am inflicting some kind of psychological abuse on my baby girl that makes her apologize ALL THE TIME.
Sometimes she does use it instead of "excuse me" and I am pretty sure I taught this to her. Don't we all apologize when we are scootching past someone in the grocery store or similar situation? Why is that? Should I be sorry that I have to ask you to move because you decided to set up shop with your cell phone in the middle of the aisle?
Oddly enough, she doesn't say it as often when it is warranted. Like when she bites or hits Mommy and Daddy. When does discipline start working anyway?
Monday, February 25, 2008
Friday, February 22, 2008
So Not Expected
This is absolutely NOT what Kiki had in mind when she tagged me with a meme. For those too lazy to link over, the instructions read:
1. Pick up the nearest book ( of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag others & post a comment here once you post it to your blog, so I can come see.
Well, the nearest book is The National Audubon Society First Field Guide: Birds. Ever since we put a bird feeder up in our backyard, LP loves birds. She can actually identify a few on sight. As such, we have to find the "Cardna! Cardna!" (cardinal) in this book frequently.
Anyway, as per the instructions:
The bill is yellow. The female's head and back are brown. Length: 9-11".
Okay, DaisyJoMom, Robyn from Mommy Esquire Diaries, Tiffany at Colorado-Mama, your turn!
1. Pick up the nearest book ( of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag others & post a comment here once you post it to your blog, so I can come see.
Well, the nearest book is The National Audubon Society First Field Guide: Birds. Ever since we put a bird feeder up in our backyard, LP loves birds. She can actually identify a few on sight. As such, we have to find the "Cardna! Cardna!" (cardinal) in this book frequently.
Anyway, as per the instructions:
The bill is yellow. The female's head and back are brown. Length: 9-11".
Okay, DaisyJoMom, Robyn from Mommy Esquire Diaries, Tiffany at Colorado-Mama, your turn!
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
You Say "Baby", I Say "Tapeworm"
Last week I was feeling pretty good after my doctor's appointment. Bun was doing well and it turned out that despite the fact that I look bigger, I actually weigh less than I did at the same point in my first pregnancy. And then this week I turned into a human consumption machine. Seriously, I can't stop eating.
A small consolation is that Motherhood Maternity came out with these new jeans that have some sort of lycra built into the band that somehow makes my belly look smaller, higher and even more beautiful. All for $16.95. Does life get better than that? And no, I won't post pictures, you have to take my word for it.
Because, really, right now I look better naked than I look in clothes. How often do you hear someone say that? In maternity clothes I get all of these funky bulges and lumps where the various layers cross over each other. Whoever designed "low rider" pants - for pregnant woman or really anyone - should be shot. In the back. As they try to run away. Because they can't get very far. Because the freaking things will keep falling down...
Honestly, I love my pregnant belly. I love being pregnant. I feel ripe and womanly and feminine and (most days, from the neck down) beautiful. But maybe that is because my face is obscured by some type of frosted carbohydrate...
A small consolation is that Motherhood Maternity came out with these new jeans that have some sort of lycra built into the band that somehow makes my belly look smaller, higher and even more beautiful. All for $16.95. Does life get better than that? And no, I won't post pictures, you have to take my word for it.
Because, really, right now I look better naked than I look in clothes. How often do you hear someone say that? In maternity clothes I get all of these funky bulges and lumps where the various layers cross over each other. Whoever designed "low rider" pants - for pregnant woman or really anyone - should be shot. In the back. As they try to run away. Because they can't get very far. Because the freaking things will keep falling down...
Honestly, I love my pregnant belly. I love being pregnant. I feel ripe and womanly and feminine and (most days, from the neck down) beautiful. But maybe that is because my face is obscured by some type of frosted carbohydrate...
Newfangled
Just because I have a blog doesn't mean I am technically savvy. I have no idea how to download a ring tone to my cell phone (although the wireless companies are getting smart and only giving you cruddy ring tones with your phone, so I might have to figure this out soon); I have only downloaded maybe two songs off the Internet; and I still refuse to watch my favorite TV shows or movies on my computer instead of my television. Although if I miss a show, I will read a recap on televisionwithoutpity or the appropriate web site.
Anyway, my ban on Internet television is starting to lift. But only for web-only shows that are short and sweet - AND FUNNY. I don't have time to waste on crappy television (hello, American Idol, are your ears burning?). I just came across this new web series called "In the Motherhood" which gives short vignettes on the real life of mommies, as played by gorgeous actresses...
Anyway, my ban on Internet television is starting to lift. But only for web-only shows that are short and sweet - AND FUNNY. I don't have time to waste on crappy television (hello, American Idol, are your ears burning?). I just came across this new web series called "In the Motherhood" which gives short vignettes on the real life of mommies, as played by gorgeous actresses...
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
The Name Game
The responsibilities associated with becoming a parent start well before delivery. Truth be told they start well before conception. However, for many parents the pressure starts mounting right around the time you come to the realization that you actually have to name the little person growing inside you and that this isn't an easy task.
As you know, the Hoos and I have opted not to find out the gender of Bun. While I wouldn't say this makes our job twice as tough, it does at least require us to have both male and female names at the ready. When I was pregnant with LP, I knew that if we had a girl she would be named for my grandmother. We only needed to come up with a middle name and a boy name. I say "only" but it was still not easy.
This time around we need a new girl name and we need to reevaluate boy names. The Hoos is just starting to warm up to the process. I have had to tell him at least a dozen times that "Waldorf Garchunk" is not a suitable name for a little boy (apologies to anyone out there who has this name, I am sure it fits you perfectly). He was joking, of course, but I have my work cut out for me.
In addition to making up fictitious, ridiculous names, the Hoos likes to lampoon any name I come up with. His comments range from "NO! That is the name of a pudgy kid that eats paste in the corner in nursery school" to acting like a kindergartner and making up juvenile nicknames, i.e., Fat Pat or Hairy Gary.
I have found myself listening closely when other people introduce themselves to see if I like their name. And the Hoos and I might be in the middle of a totally unrelated discussion when one of us throws out a "How about THIS NAME". And I test out names on LP to see a. if she can say it and b. if she "likes" it. In fact, last night I told her a name and I swear she repeated the name and said "I like that." The Hoos heard it too!
Not that we are not looking for validation or recommendations from our friends and family on names. Ultimately our kid will love it or hate it and blame us for any problems regardless. But hopefully, just hopefully, we will pick a winner...And by "winner" I do not mean a name that spends the next 10 years in the Top 10 of the SSA name list.
As you know, the Hoos and I have opted not to find out the gender of Bun. While I wouldn't say this makes our job twice as tough, it does at least require us to have both male and female names at the ready. When I was pregnant with LP, I knew that if we had a girl she would be named for my grandmother. We only needed to come up with a middle name and a boy name. I say "only" but it was still not easy.
This time around we need a new girl name and we need to reevaluate boy names. The Hoos is just starting to warm up to the process. I have had to tell him at least a dozen times that "Waldorf Garchunk" is not a suitable name for a little boy (apologies to anyone out there who has this name, I am sure it fits you perfectly). He was joking, of course, but I have my work cut out for me.
In addition to making up fictitious, ridiculous names, the Hoos likes to lampoon any name I come up with. His comments range from "NO! That is the name of a pudgy kid that eats paste in the corner in nursery school" to acting like a kindergartner and making up juvenile nicknames, i.e., Fat Pat or Hairy Gary.
I have found myself listening closely when other people introduce themselves to see if I like their name. And the Hoos and I might be in the middle of a totally unrelated discussion when one of us throws out a "How about THIS NAME". And I test out names on LP to see a. if she can say it and b. if she "likes" it. In fact, last night I told her a name and I swear she repeated the name and said "I like that." The Hoos heard it too!
Not that we are not looking for validation or recommendations from our friends and family on names. Ultimately our kid will love it or hate it and blame us for any problems regardless. But hopefully, just hopefully, we will pick a winner...And by "winner" I do not mean a name that spends the next 10 years in the Top 10 of the SSA name list.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Taking a Bite Out of Crime
I just got off the phone with Mr. Otis, LP's teacher. He had to call to let me know that there was an "incident" involving four students, one of which was my daughter. And she instigated the whole thing.
The class was lined up to go to gym and LP bit the kid in front of her, who in turn bit the kid in front of them, who then bit the kid in front of them. In total, three children were bitten and four children chomped down. All four children screamed bloody murder.
Apparently the "Don't Bite Your Friends" song from Yo Gabba Gabba has not penetrated LP's psyche. Nor has she realized that when she points to Moo, her cow, and says "No!" in a stern voice, it means the same thing when I do it to her.
Mr. Otis told me everything was okay and he sat LP down and talked to her. "She is smart, so I think she got it." My response, "Otis, I am pretty smart too and even though I understand I am not supposed to do things, I do them anyway sometimes."
I am not really sure how one stops a toddler from biting. She isn't really teething. I do think this is more about communication and getting her own way, but I hope it passes soon. Apologies to the moms of the other kids in LP's class!
The class was lined up to go to gym and LP bit the kid in front of her, who in turn bit the kid in front of them, who then bit the kid in front of them. In total, three children were bitten and four children chomped down. All four children screamed bloody murder.
Apparently the "Don't Bite Your Friends" song from Yo Gabba Gabba has not penetrated LP's psyche. Nor has she realized that when she points to Moo, her cow, and says "No!" in a stern voice, it means the same thing when I do it to her.
Mr. Otis told me everything was okay and he sat LP down and talked to her. "She is smart, so I think she got it." My response, "Otis, I am pretty smart too and even though I understand I am not supposed to do things, I do them anyway sometimes."
I am not really sure how one stops a toddler from biting. She isn't really teething. I do think this is more about communication and getting her own way, but I hope it passes soon. Apologies to the moms of the other kids in LP's class!
Chocolate=LP's Valentine
When I was growing up, my Daddy was always my Valentine. I remember getting a little heart ring from him one year and another year I believe I received a wind-up alligator that played "My Funny Valentine". While Daddy was my Valentine, my grandfather, Poppy, was my secret admirer. For as long as I can remember I would get a small flower basket delivered on Valentine's Day from giver unknown. More likely my grandmother ordered the flowers and did all the work, but when I discovered in my tweener years who was behind the flowers, it didn't make sense to me that my Valentine would be a girl.
Now that LP is a lovely little toddler, it is her turn to have Valentines. The Hoos picked a card up from the two of us for her (even though we forgot to actually give it to her on February 14th...oops), and she got cards in the mail from both sets of grandparents and her great-grandparents. And Will, a boy in her class, gave her a card with a cat on it. Talk about being loved!
And, despite feeling all of this love, at 21 months she is pretty much oblivious to the fake holiday. At least that was until we made Daddy brownies. Now I think Valentine's Day might be her favorite day going forward.
Now that LP is a lovely little toddler, it is her turn to have Valentines. The Hoos picked a card up from the two of us for her (even though we forgot to actually give it to her on February 14th...oops), and she got cards in the mail from both sets of grandparents and her great-grandparents. And Will, a boy in her class, gave her a card with a cat on it. Talk about being loved!
And, despite feeling all of this love, at 21 months she is pretty much oblivious to the fake holiday. At least that was until we made Daddy brownies. Now I think Valentine's Day might be her favorite day going forward.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
On the Road Again
Earlier this week I got a request to attend a meeting in our Arlington, VA office next week. Despite being pregnant, I do enjoy traveling, and I do want to show my commitment to my job, so I accepted the opportunity as an easy one day trip that would not impact life back home too much.
As you may know from reading this blog, the Hoos and I used to live in Arlington, and we went to school in DC, a five minute metro ride. When I confirmed with the Hoos that the trip wouldn't be a problem, he wondered if perhaps he and LP might join me. We still have friends in the area, and one couple just had a baby that we would love to meet. Plus, DC is a great walking city and a good place to entertain LP. Even if she doesn't look at all of the exhibits in the Smithsonian Natural History museum, I am sure she would love to run around its big open corridors.
With the decision to spend a few days below the Mason-Dixon finalized, we moved on to the logistics. My meeting is from 1pm-5pm. DC is about a 4.5 hour drive without stops. There is no such thing as no stops with a toddler. We laid out our options:
We figure if it is a miserable ride down for him, at least it is only one way and he then has a couple of days of vacation to recover for the trip back home. Let us all pray.
PS - Sorry for all of the typos lately, Blogger spell check isn't working. Harrummpf. I bet you all thought I had awesome spelling skills all by myself:)
As you may know from reading this blog, the Hoos and I used to live in Arlington, and we went to school in DC, a five minute metro ride. When I confirmed with the Hoos that the trip wouldn't be a problem, he wondered if perhaps he and LP might join me. We still have friends in the area, and one couple just had a baby that we would love to meet. Plus, DC is a great walking city and a good place to entertain LP. Even if she doesn't look at all of the exhibits in the Smithsonian Natural History museum, I am sure she would love to run around its big open corridors.
With the decision to spend a few days below the Mason-Dixon finalized, we moved on to the logistics. My meeting is from 1pm-5pm. DC is about a 4.5 hour drive without stops. There is no such thing as no stops with a toddler. We laid out our options:
- Drive down as a family the morning of my meeting. Unless we leave the house at a ridiculously early hour to contend with the stops and potential traffic issues, we would be left stressing about making my meeting on time.
- Drive down together (all the way or part way) the night before. We might get there in time, but we would most likely have a miserable night with LP sleeping in the car, waking up around midnight when we arrive and probably not falling right back to sleep.
- Amy take the train or fly one way and the Hoos and LP drive down and meet me. Obviously not a problem for me, work pays for my flight or ride, but neither of us has ever driven alone with LP for more than an hour and a half. Without a passenger, there is the challenge of keeping the munchkin satisfied and happy. Even food bribery is difficult when your main job is to have your eyes on the road.
We figure if it is a miserable ride down for him, at least it is only one way and he then has a couple of days of vacation to recover for the trip back home. Let us all pray.
PS - Sorry for all of the typos lately, Blogger spell check isn't working. Harrummpf. I bet you all thought I had awesome spelling skills all by myself:)
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Vanquished
Praise the Lord! LP's ear infection has been vanquished. It only took four weeks, three antibiotics, seven doctors visits, and one hellish nightmare of a Tuesday afternoon to get to this point.
The weather is cruddy here in Connecticut. It started yesterday afternoon. I already knew I would have to leave work early to get LP to her 4:45 doctor's appointment. The doctor is near home and day care - I work 25 miles (40 minutes on most days) away. Add snow and ice into the mix and despite the fact that I leave at 3:30, I don't get to LP until a little after 5. Fortunately the Hoos alerts the doctor to the fact that I will be late and when I am 5 minutes out from day care I call Mr. Otis and tell him to have my little munchkin ready to go.
I run in, grab LP and hurry back out into the icy parking lot, walking as quickly as possible while trying to avoid ending up on my backside. We get into the car and, at the breakneck speed of 20 miles an hour, race to the doctors office. Suddenly I spot some wild turkeys on the lefthand side of the road, "Look LP, turkeys!" I cry out (she loves animals, "cardinal" is her new favorite word and she actually identifies them, but I digress). "Chicken! Chicken! Chicken!" she yells, pointing, as five more wild turkeys cross the icy road directly in front of my car. She doesn't know how close we came to having turkey for dinner as she continues to scream "Chicken!" the two or so miles to the doc's office.
We finally get to the doctor. Whew! We run in, sign in, and pray that LP's pediatrician hasn't left for the night. I am relieved when the nurse comes to get us, saying "I need to take her temperature." No problem, I am a pro and lay her down and prepare to remove her diaper. Looking down I comment, "Hey, this isn't your diaper" we use Pampers Cruisers and this is some other type, sometimes that happens at day care, I have no idea why. "No problem I say, as long as it is clean." I open it and realize that I just jinxed myself. Even better, in all of the craziness, I don't have the diaper bag. No wipes, no clean diapers...just a toddler with a diaper full of poop. The nurse finds us something she and the cotnainer says are wipes, but they are more like useless moistened tissues. I clean LP off enough for her temperature to be taken and the nurse leaves. Uh...what am I supposed to do now? Let her run around bare ass? Fortunately the nurse left the cabinet under the sink open and I notice generic diapers in who knows what size. I manage to squeeze one onto LP just as the doctor walks in.
Man, am I glad that the ear infection is gone, because otherwise I might have just broken into tears.
The weather is cruddy here in Connecticut. It started yesterday afternoon. I already knew I would have to leave work early to get LP to her 4:45 doctor's appointment. The doctor is near home and day care - I work 25 miles (40 minutes on most days) away. Add snow and ice into the mix and despite the fact that I leave at 3:30, I don't get to LP until a little after 5. Fortunately the Hoos alerts the doctor to the fact that I will be late and when I am 5 minutes out from day care I call Mr. Otis and tell him to have my little munchkin ready to go.
I run in, grab LP and hurry back out into the icy parking lot, walking as quickly as possible while trying to avoid ending up on my backside. We get into the car and, at the breakneck speed of 20 miles an hour, race to the doctors office. Suddenly I spot some wild turkeys on the lefthand side of the road, "Look LP, turkeys!" I cry out (she loves animals, "cardinal" is her new favorite word and she actually identifies them, but I digress). "Chicken! Chicken! Chicken!" she yells, pointing, as five more wild turkeys cross the icy road directly in front of my car. She doesn't know how close we came to having turkey for dinner as she continues to scream "Chicken!" the two or so miles to the doc's office.
We finally get to the doctor. Whew! We run in, sign in, and pray that LP's pediatrician hasn't left for the night. I am relieved when the nurse comes to get us, saying "I need to take her temperature." No problem, I am a pro and lay her down and prepare to remove her diaper. Looking down I comment, "Hey, this isn't your diaper" we use Pampers Cruisers and this is some other type, sometimes that happens at day care, I have no idea why. "No problem I say, as long as it is clean." I open it and realize that I just jinxed myself. Even better, in all of the craziness, I don't have the diaper bag. No wipes, no clean diapers...just a toddler with a diaper full of poop. The nurse finds us something she and the cotnainer says are wipes, but they are more like useless moistened tissues. I clean LP off enough for her temperature to be taken and the nurse leaves. Uh...what am I supposed to do now? Let her run around bare ass? Fortunately the nurse left the cabinet under the sink open and I notice generic diapers in who knows what size. I manage to squeeze one onto LP just as the doctor walks in.
Man, am I glad that the ear infection is gone, because otherwise I might have just broken into tears.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Poopy Pants
For some reason LP hates getting her diaper changed. Especially when she has a special delivery. No kid ever likes to sit still, but you would think that getting rid of the little mound under your tush and have a dry diaper would be worth waiting patiently for two minutes. But, no. She twists and squirms and screams and basically makes our lives miserable while we are trying to remove the offending nappy. And let's not even talk about the process of getting a new diaper on.
We have tried bribing her with food. From offering a mishy (marshmallow, a treat usually only reserved for using the potty) after we are done, to giving her food while going through the changing motion.
We have tried bribing her with non-edible treats. "After this you can sit on the potty for as long as you want and Mommy will read you 5 books."
We have tried reasoning. "If you just stay still this will go much quicker and then we can go back to having fun."
Today the Hoos even had her promise that if he changed her downstairs, instead of in her bedroom, she would be good. I guess a baby promise is worth less than a pinky swear...not that she even knows what a "promise" is...
We have had to resort to restraining her as best as possible (while simultaneously trying to change the diaper and avoid getting covered in poop). I hate this. The Hoos hates this. It makes us feel mean and bad and just plain awful. We have no idea how they get her to comply at day care. It isn't every time, but it is at least once a day.
I know, I know she is only 20 months old and if this is as close as we come to a tantrum we should just deal. But it sucks. And we still have to change her...several times...daily.
We have tried bribing her with food. From offering a mishy (marshmallow, a treat usually only reserved for using the potty) after we are done, to giving her food while going through the changing motion.
We have tried bribing her with non-edible treats. "After this you can sit on the potty for as long as you want and Mommy will read you 5 books."
We have tried reasoning. "If you just stay still this will go much quicker and then we can go back to having fun."
Today the Hoos even had her promise that if he changed her downstairs, instead of in her bedroom, she would be good. I guess a baby promise is worth less than a pinky swear...not that she even knows what a "promise" is...
We have had to resort to restraining her as best as possible (while simultaneously trying to change the diaper and avoid getting covered in poop). I hate this. The Hoos hates this. It makes us feel mean and bad and just plain awful. We have no idea how they get her to comply at day care. It isn't every time, but it is at least once a day.
I know, I know she is only 20 months old and if this is as close as we come to a tantrum we should just deal. But it sucks. And we still have to change her...several times...daily.
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