Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Oscar has a particular method for fighting his naps I call the poop method. Basically, after I put him down, all drowsy and half asleep, he poops himself and commences screaming bloody murder. The reason I think it is a method is that it happens so frequently. Also, sometimes the poops are quite large, but they are just as often quite small and it's clear he was really trying hard to poop, as he know he always gets changed immediately when he's poopy.
You may be thinking there no way a ten-month-old baby "knows" he gets changed when he's poopy and could possibly be smart enough to poop to avoid his naps.
You'd be wrong. A ten-month-old absolutely knows how to manipulate his parents. A five-month-old knows how to manipulate his parents. Really. Did I mention that when I go to get him from his crib he APPLAUDS my appearance? No kidding. "Oh, is that you, Mommy? Yay, Mommy! Yay, Mommy! You're here, you're really here!" Imagine what that feels like - it simultaneously melts your heart and makes you feel like the worst parent ever for not arriving 15 seconds sooner.
Anyway, in the past few weeks, the poop method has fallen out of favor. He's been napping okay. And then, a resurgence of the poop method, but this time, it's at bed time.
So, about an hour after I put him down, Oscar wakes with a soiled diaper. Excuse me, I mean a full to almost overflowing poopy diaper. Awful. Of course he's screaming. Who could sleep like that? And then, when I try to change him, he continues screaming as though I'm jamming a hot poker in his eye. Again, awful.
Oscar hasn't pooped overnight since he was maybe four weeks old, and now we have night pooping again. I'm not sure why but it is absolutely wretched. I feel bad for him, I feel bad for me. It's things like this that remind me just when I think I've gotten the hang of things, that I know what to expect, that we have a routine, Oscar can change it up in a minute.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Speaking of Oscar, he started cruising last week. He's going to be walking before I know it and I can't wait. He's also be trying to climb up things and that scares the living daylights out of me. On the verbal front, when I asked him if he wanted more cereal this morning, I swear he said, "Yeah, yeah!" and he's getting really close to saying "dog." He's turning into a little boy right before my eyes.
Okay, now I'm crying (thanks, fetus!) so lets end here. Dinner and bath all by ourselves tonight, Bean. Let's make it work
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
He's been going down for his morning nap early the past few days, so I decided to continue the trend, even on Danny days. This means Oscar was napping before Danny even arrived. Oscar seems to nap better when he doesn't know Danny's here - I guess he doesn't think he's missing anything.
This is great because the Bean will normally nap for 1.5 - 2 hours in the morning now. This is not so great because the boys morning nap is out of sync and it makes it a little more difficult to entertain Oscar when he wakes up because we can't go down to the play area (where Danny also sleeps.)
Usually, Oscar and I will hang out in the grown up bed and read books and play with toys. It's usually only 30-40 minutes until Danny wakes, so there is enough to keep him occupied for that long. Except yesterday, I seem to have closed my eyes for just a second while lying on the bed with Oscar. He was right next to me, playing. And the next thing I hear was a loud "THUMP" and my son, screaming in pain.
I was disoriented at first, but quickly realized what had happened and rushed over to the other side of the bed. There was Oscar, lying on his stomach with his head buried in his arms, sobbing. I picked him up and began looking for injuries. His whole face was red from crying, so I couldn't tell where he'd bumped. He seemed okay otherwise. I held him close and rocked him for a few moments and he's crying decreased.
Then, Danny woke up. Oscar herd him crowing downstairs and began crowing back. I brought him down and the babies were thrilled to see each other, as they always are, and commenced some serious playing. Oscar ended up with a red spot on his right temple and a swollen right eye.
Today, the mark is more of a bruise, the eye is still slightly swollen, and I still feel like the worst, most negligent mom ever.
Oscar, on the other hand is happily throwing around cups at my feet. He's forgotten all about it.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
On this particular Thursday, I noticed three boys, about 7 or 8 years old standing off from the crowd, peering over their shoulders. It was clear to me they were up to no good, but what brand of no good I could not tell. I will call they boys by the color of their shirts, so as not to be confusing: white shirt, red shirt, navy shirt.
Navy shirt is sort of leading white shirt to the bottom of a small hill next to the fence, where the recess monitors cannot see what's going on. They are talking, navy shirt is looking over his shoulder up the hill. Red shirt come sauntering down, and starts talking to white shirt as well. Then he starts shoving white shirt in the chest.
At this point, everyone is smiling - looks like a bit of little boy roughhousing. But then, things take a turn. Red shirt grabs white shirt in a choke hold and begins punching him repeatedly in the ribs and head. Navy shirt is looking on, and being look out. It is clear to me that this is no bit of roughhousing, as white shirt is struggling to escape. This is a clear case of bullying, and two on one at that.
Just as I begin to yell over to the boys to break it up (I was across the street from the play yard) another child notices what is going on and alerts a recess monitor, who blows his/her whistle. Red shirt immediately stops his hitting white shirt and the three boys run up the hill.
I'm not sure how the boys were dealt with. But it made me think about the boys. Will they be the kid in the navy shirt, leading a victim into a trap? The kid in the red shirt, picking on and beating up other children in the play yard? Will they be the kid who gets bullied? Or will they be the one who comes to the rescue, alerting adults to the bullying situation?
I don't think the boys will be bullies - they are both much to sweet tempered for that. But it makes me scared for them, because if you're not a bully, chances are you're going to be bullied at some point in your life. I hope they are both armed with the tools to deal with these situations. I hope they know they have parents and other people in their lives that love them and that they can come to if they need support.
Right now, Oscar and Danny's lives are all about playing, loving, eating, learning new skills, and this hard work. But, I think being a kid gets harder and harder the older they get. And I think being a parent gets harder to. I hope I can meet the challenge.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Now, I won't lie, I miss my old hair. It was short and edgy and spiky. It was glorious. I used to get comments from women on the street and in the subway about how cute my hair was. My hair stylist and I inspired some serious cases of hair envy.
I also miss getting my hair done. It was always two hours of me time. I didn't have to worry about anything but chatting with my stylist and reading People magazine. No one expected anything more from me and it was fantastic.
The days of $200+ hair styles are behind me and I've accepted this. Not only do we no longer have the money to shell out for my outrageous dos, I also don't have the time to maintain them. I'm wearing my natural hair color for the first time in 16 years. But, what I realized yesterday as I got my hair done with no frills, at a much more reasonable price, is that I still need that me time.
I decided to schedule my next appointment in eight weeks.
"June 7. Is that Okay?" Suzanne (stylist extraordinaire) asked.
"Yes. That's one week before Oscar's birthday," I said.
Nine weeks. My baby's going to be one in nine weeks. How did that happen?
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Friday, April 4, 2008
To my delight it was a Cookie Bouquet, containing a dozen cookies. But it wasn't from my Dad. Below is a shot of two of the cookies from the package. Guess who sent it! You'll never guess!
Okay, here's a hint: Those cookies are in the shape of smiling teeth. Teeth! If you guessed my dentist sent me this cookie bouquet for my birthday, you're correct! They usually send a tooth themed "Happy Birthday" postcard (which they did again this year), but this is the first time I've gotten cookies, and tooth shaped ones at that! I've been seeing her for about seven years now, and totally love her. Her favorite color is purple, so her office space is purple, she gives our purple pens, her instruments are purple, the X-ray vest is purple, she sends cookie bouquets in a purple box with a purple ribbon; it's hilarious and I love it. And now I love her even more. Thanks, Dr. Dice-Shah!