Well, Noah started first grade this week. It was a short-lived, but eventful start and now school has been postponed due to Tropical Storm Fay. But this could be a good thing actually. We get to start over. We will have the First Day of First Grade - Part Two whenever this storm passes, and for that, I am thankful because it is worthy of a do over.
It all began perfectly, clothes layed out the night before - wrinkled, but matching. (Not big on ironing)I arose bright-eyed at 6AM to my alarm and had a leisurely shower while the kids were sleeping. Got dressed, got the kids up and made breakfast, it was all perfect. I considered whistling.
Lunch bags had been packed the night before and school supplies were all checked and rechecked. Noah danced around the kitchen with his back pack on anxiously waiting for me to get the baby in his car seat so we could go, and gasp...we were on time! Ahead of schedule actually.
Baby tucked into seat and smiling, Noah twirling and chattering we headed for the exit. Noah was being a complete gentleman and holding the door for me while I heaved the car seat through the door. I glanced back over my shoulder on my way out to see Kelsey, my oldest cat, hunched up pretty as you please in the doorway of my bedroom crapping on my carpet. She was doing this with such deliberation that I can only assume that senility has finally come and she truly thought she was in the cat box.
I was frozen in place for a moment trying to make my mind capture what my eyes were seeing, and Noah was off. The door slammed as he raced for the van, Mommy would have to hold her own door now, and I quite involuntary uttered "WTF!"
I unceremoniously plopped the car seat down and ran for the cat, scooping her up and depositing her in the litter box, also quite unceremoniously. She was already done though and promptly exited.
What is it about crap on a carpet that boggles the mind into indecision? I didn't know what to do! Noah was in the car and crap was on the carpet! Do I leave the crap? Do I pick it up? What do I pick it up WITH? A paper towel? Where are those? Maybe toilet paper? I'm circling the crap aimlessly now, staring at it in disbelief and going over thousands of possibilities.
But it's the first day of school?! There can't be crap on the carpet! I've got to go! We're on time dammit! I picked the baby seat back up and headed for the door, then put him down and went for the paper towels. Went back to circling the crap and weighing my options. Too gross for paper towels, I need gloves. Back to the kitchen for gloves. Back to the crap and nowhere to put it. Back to kitchen for a bag and carpet cleaner. Crap FINALLY cleaned up.
OKAY. First day of school, still on time. Not early anymore, but we're going to be fine. I throw open the door and see the next mind boggler. There is a 12 foot trailer attached to the back of my van. The trailer!! I had totally forgotten about having it on the van. Now I'm walking slowly towards the van weighing all my options. Take it off? No, last time I removed a trailer hitch I damaged my hand badly. Drive it to school? Where the hell will I park?? On a good day it is difficult to park my van at the school and this is the FIRST day, NOT a good day to park.
No choice really, I'll just have to take it and hope I can squeeze in longways somewhere on the grass. Still fine, still on time, just a small parking snafu. "Lets go Mom!" Noah is yelling impatiently now.
A quick stop at Nana's for a First Day photo op and we're off. Feeling a bit like Sandford and Son with a 12 foot trailer, but hey! We're still on time, sort of.
A long wait at the last corner into the school confirms my worst fears. Traffic is ridiculous. Parking even more so. I cruise slowly past numerous tricky parking spots that I would have tried had I not been the length of a tractor trailer. We pass the school and Noah panics. "Mom! Where are you going?" "I don't know!! I'm going to where people park TRAILERS on the first day of first grade!! Wherever THAT is!"
Past the school, past the library, past the lake, ah! The parking lot that trailers park in! A mere quarter of a mile away from first grade, just a short walk to first grade! Pushing a stroller, through wet grass at a not so leisurely pace, because we are no longer ...on time.
"Why are we running Mom?" "Because, (pant) I don't want, (huff) you to be late, (pant, pant) on the first day!" I am vaguely aware that my hair is flopping at peculiar angles and keep pushing it aside. Doesn't matter what I look like, just get the child to class! We arrive, at Ms. Stevenson's class, at 7:58. A whopping TWO minutes before the bell rings for the school day to start. All the kids are sitting in their seats coloring, parents are waving goodbye and we are slogging in with a massive stroller and bags of supplies and a startled looking first grader AND baby.
I usher Noah to his seat and begin helping him unpack. The bell rings and the pledge of allegiance begins. I've got one hand over my heart and one rooting around in Noah's back pack looking for a "beveled eraser" for his pencil box while blowing my abnormally unruly hair out of my face. I'm glancing around nervously, hoping the teacher doesn't really notice this LARGER than normal first grader and her baby.
I decide the best course of action is to act like the volunteer room mom. So I jump right in next to the REAL volunteer room mom and start sorting supplies and writing names on folders. The room mom does give me a few sideways glances, but maybe she's just wondering who this "overachiever" mom is.
I slide towards the exit door thanking Ms. Stevenson and asking if she needs anything before I go. Thankfully she does and I run a small errand for her. Feeling a little better now.
There was more. I had a run in with nurse Ratchet at the school clinic while arranging for Noah's allergy medications to be held at school. But it will all work out.
The baby and I had a lovely, leisurely, morning walk back to the trailer parking area. I had a moment to check my hair in the mirror before starting for home. NICE. VERY nice. I assured myself that that no one would possibly know WHO that harried women was that dropped Noah off the first day of school. "Oh? You're Noah's Mom? Who was that woman who dropped him off the first day? You know, the lady with wrinkled clothes, hair like Tina Turner and a trailer?" "Oh her? She's just a friend of mine, but geesh she barely got him here on time! Can you believe it? I'll be bringing him from now on."
Do over.
Trees
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Thursday, August 7, 2008
A Week of Many Firsts
This week Nathan, you turned 6 months old. A half of a year gone already? It seems like only a few weeks. I have been trying to keep track of all the little changes. Your clothes are outgrown, so you must be getting bigger. Your little teeny weenie socks are too small to stay on, so the feet must be larger. Your voice sounds like a baby now, not a nasally newborn.
Teeth! Much to my chagrin there are teeth now. First the bottom right, then a few days later the bottom left. A couple weeks later the top right and this week the top left. A first that goes with the teeth? Your first grinding of teeth and subsequent chipping of your very first tooth. Hmm, daddy grinds his teeth too.
You are so much like your daddy. You smell like daddy, you have daddy's sweet smile, which is not given in haste I might add. And appropriately so, you've chosen this week to have dadadadada be your first attempt at speaking real words.
This week you started sleeping longer at night. (All the mommies and daddies say YAY!!) You slept for 6 hours one night and in 3 and 4 hour stretches all the others. Whew! I never thought I'd see sleep longer than 90 minutes again! I must say I think this may be my personal favorite first this week.
Your naps have taken on a longer, deeper quality this week too. Sometimes two or more hours at a time. Ah, but there is more...
You're eating food now! We have been introducing cereal to you for about a week and a half now and it was always met with the same grimace and foul look upon your sweet little face. "Ewwww, mommy...what is that?" kind of look. We did everything to make it as pleasant as possible. Bought the tiniest little flat and useless spoon, bought the itty bitty jars of bananas and sweet potatoes. We mixed the cereal with mommy's milk ("blah" you said), and then more successfully with just water. Of course we heated it to just the right lukewarmness too.
Each day you were slightly more accepting and a little less grimacey. But still at about bite three you would purse your lips tightly and refuse food entry. If we did manage one more bite it was followed by a signature Nathanial gag.
But last night, you actually liked your cereal with sweet potatoes! You ate two or three tablespoons of it! Mouth gaping wide and arms flapping like a bird, you swatted more then a few bites right off the spoon into the air. All the swatting gave the getting of the food INTO the mouth somewhat of a carnival game quality and required much clean up afterward. But we did it! So many things to eat my little one, you're going to love it!
Another very important first has me rethinking this blog title, you put yourself to sleep, again and again! You did it almost every night this week and for the first time EVER during a daytime nap! You lay in bed soothing yourself with baby babbles and coos. You kick both your feet up in the air and slam them onto the bed lifting yourself again and again. You wiggle onto your side and back to your back in order to twist yourself into different positions in the bed. Whichever one mommy puts you down in is never quite right.
You grab your little bear-bunny by the arm or leg or ear and swing him back and forth slamming him into the bed on this side then that. To the untrained eye all your shenanigans seem very playful, if not violent, and not at all like self-soothing, but it works for you. Eventually you wiggle less, you babble softer and you drift off to sleep. A delightful first for both of us I think.
The growing, the speaking, the teeth, the grinding & chipping, the sleeping, the napping, the eating, am I forgetting anything? Probably, you change so much everyday! It's been a busy week. And something that hasn't changed? Your diaper in the last hour and I think I smell something...ah the sweet potatoes perhaps?
Another first. Peeeyewww!
Teeth! Much to my chagrin there are teeth now. First the bottom right, then a few days later the bottom left. A couple weeks later the top right and this week the top left. A first that goes with the teeth? Your first grinding of teeth and subsequent chipping of your very first tooth. Hmm, daddy grinds his teeth too.
You are so much like your daddy. You smell like daddy, you have daddy's sweet smile, which is not given in haste I might add. And appropriately so, you've chosen this week to have dadadadada be your first attempt at speaking real words.
This week you started sleeping longer at night. (All the mommies and daddies say YAY!!) You slept for 6 hours one night and in 3 and 4 hour stretches all the others. Whew! I never thought I'd see sleep longer than 90 minutes again! I must say I think this may be my personal favorite first this week.
Your naps have taken on a longer, deeper quality this week too. Sometimes two or more hours at a time. Ah, but there is more...
You're eating food now! We have been introducing cereal to you for about a week and a half now and it was always met with the same grimace and foul look upon your sweet little face. "Ewwww, mommy...what is that?" kind of look. We did everything to make it as pleasant as possible. Bought the tiniest little flat and useless spoon, bought the itty bitty jars of bananas and sweet potatoes. We mixed the cereal with mommy's milk ("blah" you said), and then more successfully with just water. Of course we heated it to just the right lukewarmness too.
Each day you were slightly more accepting and a little less grimacey. But still at about bite three you would purse your lips tightly and refuse food entry. If we did manage one more bite it was followed by a signature Nathanial gag.
But last night, you actually liked your cereal with sweet potatoes! You ate two or three tablespoons of it! Mouth gaping wide and arms flapping like a bird, you swatted more then a few bites right off the spoon into the air. All the swatting gave the getting of the food INTO the mouth somewhat of a carnival game quality and required much clean up afterward. But we did it! So many things to eat my little one, you're going to love it!
Another very important first has me rethinking this blog title, you put yourself to sleep, again and again! You did it almost every night this week and for the first time EVER during a daytime nap! You lay in bed soothing yourself with baby babbles and coos. You kick both your feet up in the air and slam them onto the bed lifting yourself again and again. You wiggle onto your side and back to your back in order to twist yourself into different positions in the bed. Whichever one mommy puts you down in is never quite right.
You grab your little bear-bunny by the arm or leg or ear and swing him back and forth slamming him into the bed on this side then that. To the untrained eye all your shenanigans seem very playful, if not violent, and not at all like self-soothing, but it works for you. Eventually you wiggle less, you babble softer and you drift off to sleep. A delightful first for both of us I think.
The growing, the speaking, the teeth, the grinding & chipping, the sleeping, the napping, the eating, am I forgetting anything? Probably, you change so much everyday! It's been a busy week. And something that hasn't changed? Your diaper in the last hour and I think I smell something...ah the sweet potatoes perhaps?
Another first. Peeeyewww!
Friday, July 11, 2008
101 Places My Baby Boy Will Sleep
In the ongoing struggle to get a little one to sleep, it often occurs to me to be positive about the situation, that "this too shall pass". So in keeping with positivity I sat rocking and nursing my young one to sleep for the THIRD time tonight thinking of all the places that he has fallen asleep effortlessly.
The zoo. In a stroller, bumping along the uneven boardwalk with chattering monkeys, squawking birds and my oldest son screaming "MOM! Look!" every 30 seconds.
The beach. Being toted like a sack of groceries as I heaved myself gracefully through shifting sand and with my oldest son screaming "MOM! Look!" every 30 seconds.
Various Disney parks. In strollers, carriers, and arms. On rides that screamed and wheeled. Through crowds of preteen Brazilian soccer players and near wailing toddlers. At Disney's Hoop-Dee-Doo Review, which is quite possibly the noisiest variety show ever performed. And during the evening fireworks show which literally shakes you to the core. And of course with my oldest son screaming "MOM! Look!" every 30 seconds.
On a boat. With engine roaring and waves slapping.
On a golf cart. Whirring and buzzing along campground roads.
In a baby sling while I vacuum. (So effective actually, that this has become one of my soothing methods for when he's really riled up!)
But it doesn't have to be the noisiest of locations either. He has, on occasion, fallen asleep in his car seat in the grocery cart while I'm shopping at Target on a quiet early morning.
Certainly he sleeps in his car seat in my van on short jaunts here and there. Usually just long enough to not be tired for his nap when we get home though. Oops, I slipped from positivity there for a moment.
In my arms at work while I'm typing around him and dogs are barking around him.
On my lap in any location while I talk on the phone with my mom. (Anyone could fall asleep during one of THOSE marathons!)
In my bed.
In Daddy's arms.
In Nana's arms.
During a church service.
And just one time I think, during a movie at the theater.
All those places.
We're still working on sleeping in his crib.
It seems now, as I look back through this list, that his crib is not nearly noisy, wiggly or cuddly enough.
What were they thinking? Making such quiet, still, bedding.
What I need, is a crib with a small motor, a sack of monkeys, and a nice warm sleeping dog.
Yeah.
Perfect.
The zoo. In a stroller, bumping along the uneven boardwalk with chattering monkeys, squawking birds and my oldest son screaming "MOM! Look!" every 30 seconds.
The beach. Being toted like a sack of groceries as I heaved myself gracefully through shifting sand and with my oldest son screaming "MOM! Look!" every 30 seconds.
Various Disney parks. In strollers, carriers, and arms. On rides that screamed and wheeled. Through crowds of preteen Brazilian soccer players and near wailing toddlers. At Disney's Hoop-Dee-Doo Review, which is quite possibly the noisiest variety show ever performed. And during the evening fireworks show which literally shakes you to the core. And of course with my oldest son screaming "MOM! Look!" every 30 seconds.
On a boat. With engine roaring and waves slapping.
On a golf cart. Whirring and buzzing along campground roads.
In a baby sling while I vacuum. (So effective actually, that this has become one of my soothing methods for when he's really riled up!)
But it doesn't have to be the noisiest of locations either. He has, on occasion, fallen asleep in his car seat in the grocery cart while I'm shopping at Target on a quiet early morning.
Certainly he sleeps in his car seat in my van on short jaunts here and there. Usually just long enough to not be tired for his nap when we get home though. Oops, I slipped from positivity there for a moment.
In my arms at work while I'm typing around him and dogs are barking around him.
On my lap in any location while I talk on the phone with my mom. (Anyone could fall asleep during one of THOSE marathons!)
In my bed.
In Daddy's arms.
In Nana's arms.
During a church service.
And just one time I think, during a movie at the theater.
All those places.
We're still working on sleeping in his crib.
It seems now, as I look back through this list, that his crib is not nearly noisy, wiggly or cuddly enough.
What were they thinking? Making such quiet, still, bedding.
What I need, is a crib with a small motor, a sack of monkeys, and a nice warm sleeping dog.
Yeah.
Perfect.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Reason # 64 Not To Be a Really Sweet Older Dog In The Home Of Fog Brained New Parent
It's 4:23 AM and I'm spending a little quality time with my Basset Phoebe. Quality time she has rightfully demanded I'm afraid. I fell into bed at 10:45 in somewhat of a mumbling stupor, ticking off the list in my head of all the things on the evening "to do" list.
Fed baby 6 times, check.
Fed 6 year old twice, check.
Fed Daddy of baby and six year old nothing, check...wait a minute here. (Well he is an adult, adults are fending for themselves around here lately.)
Fed Frog
Fed, watered and located three cats.
Administered subQ fluids and medicine to infirm cat #1 while avoiding needle stick...just barely.
Administered meds to infirm cat #2
Did sniff check of cat box to determine if it could be tolerated until morning....blahhhhhh.
Dog walked by Daddy and now sleeping peacefully in a circle in her bed.
Sleep, that looks good to me, almost there...
Handful of herbs, oils and vitamins gulped down and I'm shuffling off to bed.
The baby awoke at 12:30 to eat, 1:30 to talk about his day (With such a sweet babbley voice who could resist listening) and 2:30 to eat again.
Between 12:00 and now, I have awaken to the gentle torrant of squeaks, whines and whistles of Phoebe approximately 50 times as well. Each time sending Daddy to investigate and fix this problem. You see, when you're listening for a hungry baby on a monitor because your baby is seemingly 100 miles away, you cannot employ the use of earplugs or smothery pillows to get rest, you just can't. Otherwise the partially deaf Daddy who could sleep through a cat5 hurricane will hear nothing and baby will go hungry. Note that Daddy luckily has lost high range of hearing thus cannot hear Phoebe either. That is my joy alone.
After last rousing attempt to get Daddy to put WD40 or SOMETHING on that squeak, I rise to investigate the situation myself. It takes only seconds. Even with bleary eyes and no glasses I can see that she has no water. And now that I think of it, did I feed her tonight? Crap.
Rush of guilt as I fill water bowl and food bowl which she gratefully consumes in noisy Basset style. She is now curled back into her circle, grunting and groaning and sleeping peacefully as I type. Going back to bed now until the baby gets up to eat in about 20 minutes. Besides, I need to be there to poke Daddy when the dog whines again in a half hour or so...to go out.
Fed baby 6 times, check.
Fed 6 year old twice, check.
Fed Daddy of baby and six year old nothing, check...wait a minute here. (Well he is an adult, adults are fending for themselves around here lately.)
Fed Frog
Fed, watered and located three cats.
Administered subQ fluids and medicine to infirm cat #1 while avoiding needle stick...just barely.
Administered meds to infirm cat #2
Did sniff check of cat box to determine if it could be tolerated until morning....blahhhhhh.
Dog walked by Daddy and now sleeping peacefully in a circle in her bed.
Sleep, that looks good to me, almost there...
Handful of herbs, oils and vitamins gulped down and I'm shuffling off to bed.
The baby awoke at 12:30 to eat, 1:30 to talk about his day (With such a sweet babbley voice who could resist listening) and 2:30 to eat again.
Between 12:00 and now, I have awaken to the gentle torrant of squeaks, whines and whistles of Phoebe approximately 50 times as well. Each time sending Daddy to investigate and fix this problem. You see, when you're listening for a hungry baby on a monitor because your baby is seemingly 100 miles away, you cannot employ the use of earplugs or smothery pillows to get rest, you just can't. Otherwise the partially deaf Daddy who could sleep through a cat5 hurricane will hear nothing and baby will go hungry. Note that Daddy luckily has lost high range of hearing thus cannot hear Phoebe either. That is my joy alone.
After last rousing attempt to get Daddy to put WD40 or SOMETHING on that squeak, I rise to investigate the situation myself. It takes only seconds. Even with bleary eyes and no glasses I can see that she has no water. And now that I think of it, did I feed her tonight? Crap.
Rush of guilt as I fill water bowl and food bowl which she gratefully consumes in noisy Basset style. She is now curled back into her circle, grunting and groaning and sleeping peacefully as I type. Going back to bed now until the baby gets up to eat in about 20 minutes. Besides, I need to be there to poke Daddy when the dog whines again in a half hour or so...to go out.
Friday, June 27, 2008
The Sound of a Diaper
At any other time of the day, a diaper is a soothing sound. The quiet rustle of a downy baby bunny through the papery leaves of the hibiscus. Opening in a hushed stirring of butterfly wings at sunset in the meadow. The fresh little tabs unfastening with the swoosh of the afternoon breeze jostling the wheat on it’s tender dry stalks or the shooshing glide of a soft breaking, bubbly wave across the sand before it’s hasty retreat. The whole process of the diaper change itself no more noticeable than the delicate crinkle of a crispy fall maple leaf as it drifts downward and lands amidst it’s fallen brethren...
At 2:30 AM however, the sodden mass must be exchanged in some deftly choreographed maneuver that will leave baby feeling soothed and refreshed and able to drift softly back to dreamland. I believe I read in one of my baby books somewhere that it should be done “quietly and efficiently” and in the dark, so as to facilitate a smooth transition back to sleep. I laughed then. And now? I laugh even more.
Said diaper now parting in the darkened nursery emanates a sound akin to the crack of a calving glacier or the splitting of a weather worn limb from it’s trunk. Baby’s eyes once closed and drowsy, as he was ever so gently undressed, are now wide with fear and excitement. The handy tabs separate with the earsplitting rip of a bear tearing bark from a hapless oak, not once, but TWICE.
Adrenalin rushes through baby’s tiny little veins as he imagines the source of this auditory onslaught. Beads of sweat are forming on my forehead. Working “quietly and efficiently” I attempt to affix the stiff, sandpaper tabs to close the diaper, stretching one too far it springs back from my grasp with the hollow snap of a wiffle ball in a slingshot at a sheet of aluminum foil. One attached, now two...NO! Too loose! It’ll never hold. Now the RIIIIIIIIIIP of a thousand tiny little hooks and loops screaming “SHHHHHHHHHH!” as I unfasten and refasten the tab to the diaper which I am now sure is made of that cellophane that they use to wrap Easter baskets with.
No words are spoken, but even in the dim light coming from the nightlight in the other room I can see the wide questioning orbs of my sweet baby who is frozen in a startled position. No doubt an instinct passed on for millions of years to protect our young as they heard prey approaching the nesting area in the night. His arms outstretched and palms pressed down, feet bracing the changing table. The two of us holding our breath. Him wondering what might happen next and me wondering if he’ll sleep again for the next hour.
Diaper now "quietly and efficiently" changed, I gently bundle my little darling and place him carefully into his crib and slowly back out of the room before the shock of the whole experience wears off. Soft little questioning noises are heard, but thankfully nothing more. Now we're both laying in our respective beds, staring at the ceiling, practicing the art of "self soothing". Me with my idea for a first blog post and my darling baby boy? Probably considering holding his water until it's light enough for him to see what's going on.
At 2:30 AM however, the sodden mass must be exchanged in some deftly choreographed maneuver that will leave baby feeling soothed and refreshed and able to drift softly back to dreamland. I believe I read in one of my baby books somewhere that it should be done “quietly and efficiently” and in the dark, so as to facilitate a smooth transition back to sleep. I laughed then. And now? I laugh even more.
Said diaper now parting in the darkened nursery emanates a sound akin to the crack of a calving glacier or the splitting of a weather worn limb from it’s trunk. Baby’s eyes once closed and drowsy, as he was ever so gently undressed, are now wide with fear and excitement. The handy tabs separate with the earsplitting rip of a bear tearing bark from a hapless oak, not once, but TWICE.
Adrenalin rushes through baby’s tiny little veins as he imagines the source of this auditory onslaught. Beads of sweat are forming on my forehead. Working “quietly and efficiently” I attempt to affix the stiff, sandpaper tabs to close the diaper, stretching one too far it springs back from my grasp with the hollow snap of a wiffle ball in a slingshot at a sheet of aluminum foil. One attached, now two...NO! Too loose! It’ll never hold. Now the RIIIIIIIIIIP of a thousand tiny little hooks and loops screaming “SHHHHHHHHHH!” as I unfasten and refasten the tab to the diaper which I am now sure is made of that cellophane that they use to wrap Easter baskets with.
No words are spoken, but even in the dim light coming from the nightlight in the other room I can see the wide questioning orbs of my sweet baby who is frozen in a startled position. No doubt an instinct passed on for millions of years to protect our young as they heard prey approaching the nesting area in the night. His arms outstretched and palms pressed down, feet bracing the changing table. The two of us holding our breath. Him wondering what might happen next and me wondering if he’ll sleep again for the next hour.
Diaper now "quietly and efficiently" changed, I gently bundle my little darling and place him carefully into his crib and slowly back out of the room before the shock of the whole experience wears off. Soft little questioning noises are heard, but thankfully nothing more. Now we're both laying in our respective beds, staring at the ceiling, practicing the art of "self soothing". Me with my idea for a first blog post and my darling baby boy? Probably considering holding his water until it's light enough for him to see what's going on.
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