Trees for the Forest
We spent a good part of day four driving to our new destination. It was exciting coming "home" to Hampton Roads for the first time in four years. Everything was familiar, yet different. We have spent a good hour total having the following discussion: one of us..."Oh look! That's new." The other..."No it's not, we went there twice before we moved." Suffice it to say, it's pretty amazing how places change over time.
One thing we can both agree on, is that we do NOT miss the traffic. Yeesh.
We came here to visit the old house, see the neighbors we miss, go to tour battlefields, forts and possibly Colonial Williamsburg. We have been here almost two days now, and here is what we have done....
Nothing.
What it is about a forest? Oh wait, let me digress. See, we are staying in Newport News Park. One of our favorite old camping haunts. It is about 10,000 acres of forest, lakes, trails and just generally beautiful. Right in the middle of things, but away from everything.
We have spent the last two days marveling at the beauty. Catching fireflies and naps, fishing, biking for miles and checking for ticks. We haven't been to battlefields, but we did ride our bikes to what was George Washington's headquarters during the civil war. We saw several deer early in the ride and Nathan was calling to Bambi for much of the rest.
It rained yesterday for hours off and on, but that just gave us some needed down time. We played games with the kids, Noah started a trip journal (which is apparently going to consist of a single incomplete sentence per day- sigh), and we made some berry cobbler. Laundry got done too. What's a vacation without a little laundry?
Last night before bed we discussed all the things we haven't done. How we're completely and irreparably off schedule. But none of this is a bad thing. We're finally starting to relax. No one is bored. We're excited to see family, see DC, see...whatever we end up seeing.
Right now though, I'm going back out to see the trees. Taking my coffee for a walk in the woods.
Trees
Friday, July 8, 2011
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Friends
Days two and three behind us and we're becoming seasoned road trippers and campers now. The kids were delighted to find out that we actually WERE going somewhere and that there would be friends and fun. The whole first day of driving, and stopping, and shopping, Nate expressed his chagrin repeatedly saying, "THIS is not camping Mommy." And indeed it was not. However, when we lumbered into Camp Lejuene late on the second day, the newest camping scene unfolded.
My dear friend allowed us to change the landscape of her front yard for our visit. We started out in the more than adequate length driveway, only to realize we couldn't hook up our electricity unless we were closer to her house, much closer. We then proceeded to back on an angle, into the grass, and r-i-g-h-t up to her front step. "Hi! Haven't seen you in years, mind if I park in your foyer?"
But as it turns out, good friends don't care where you park your camper when you come to visit. Whew.
The kids. Oh my goodness the kids. Did you know, that children start out small and grow to gargantuan proportions at a high rate of speed?? Apparently I did not know this, because the sight of my best friends children after four yours was shocking. It literally brought me to tears. They are so grown and beautiful, and we're so...old. (Not that you look old Paige, you look like a spring chicken my dear.)
Age and grown children notwithstanding, we had a blast. We talked, we laughed, we ate yummy food. We rode horses at midnight with the kids and stayed up to the wee hours. During which wee hours we talked and laughed some more. And there might have been more eating. Berry cobbler I believe it was.
It was tough to say goodbye. We promised each other we wouldn't wait so long to see each other again, like we always do. The kids didn't want to say goodbye either, but it was off to new adventures. I am buoyed entirely in the knowledge that good friends will always be there, will always be the same person you loved then and are truly one of the greatest gifts in life. Even the ones who park in your foyer.
My dear friend allowed us to change the landscape of her front yard for our visit. We started out in the more than adequate length driveway, only to realize we couldn't hook up our electricity unless we were closer to her house, much closer. We then proceeded to back on an angle, into the grass, and r-i-g-h-t up to her front step. "Hi! Haven't seen you in years, mind if I park in your foyer?"
But as it turns out, good friends don't care where you park your camper when you come to visit. Whew.
The kids. Oh my goodness the kids. Did you know, that children start out small and grow to gargantuan proportions at a high rate of speed?? Apparently I did not know this, because the sight of my best friends children after four yours was shocking. It literally brought me to tears. They are so grown and beautiful, and we're so...old. (Not that you look old Paige, you look like a spring chicken my dear.)
Age and grown children notwithstanding, we had a blast. We talked, we laughed, we ate yummy food. We rode horses at midnight with the kids and stayed up to the wee hours. During which wee hours we talked and laughed some more. And there might have been more eating. Berry cobbler I believe it was.
It was tough to say goodbye. We promised each other we wouldn't wait so long to see each other again, like we always do. The kids didn't want to say goodbye either, but it was off to new adventures. I am buoyed entirely in the knowledge that good friends will always be there, will always be the same person you loved then and are truly one of the greatest gifts in life. Even the ones who park in your foyer.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Day of Discovery
We left almost 24 hours ago now, on a road trip adventure only the Allgood's could have conceived of. Sixteen days, 3900 miles, camper, kids, bikes...margaritas.
The plan was fluid, flexible and fun. The reality has been, well, so far it has been one discovery after another.
They say you learn something new every day. Some days, you might learn more than others. Here are some things I've learned in the last 24:
If you don't finish packing the night before you leave? You might not get on the road until 2pm your first day out.
Starbucks has an app which will locate any Starbucks in a 50 square mile area based on your current location. It can also tell you that you have $0.00 on your Starbucks gold card.
Port Orange has a lovely Super Target with a marginal Starbucks.
The only campground you are staying in with a pool, will have the pool closed during office hours, which don't occur until three hours after checkout. Your children may be disappointed.
There is a 6 foot tall chicken at the campground in Walterboro, SC. But their pool is not open much on July 4th weekend.
A 386 mile, 5.5 hour drive will take 10 hours.
There will be more potty stops than you expect.
The cap will jiggle loose from your bumper and your sewer hose will fall out somewhere on the highway. Duct tape will remedy that and look very fashionable.
The front axle weighs 3080 lbs, the rear axle weighs 4080. For a gross vehicle weight (GVW) of 7160. The truck maximum GVW is 7350. Good thing I lost 60 lbs...
Four bikes on a bike rack hanging from your trailer bumper will break the welds and begin to tear your bumper right off. Fortunately, you will discover this at the first nights stop before losing bumper, bikes, spare tire and killing anyone who might've run into it.
In car video screens and DVD players are a good, good thing.
If your toddler tells you he's not done going to the bathroom, and you wipe him anyway, you'll have to do it again.
There's a town named Coosawhatchie. I extend my sincere condolences to all individuals who must list that on their resumes, marriage certificates, and Facebook pages.
The camper weighs 8360 fully loaded. The truck is rated to pull up to 13,500. Well, at least we did THAT right.
This Pro Pride 3P hitch was worth every single penny. Thank you Sean.
Just because there is a Krispy Kreme sign on the gas station doesn't mean they have Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Go figure.
Loves travel center has an app which tells you where every Loves in America is, as well as indicating the current gas price. They sell aspirin for the headache that gives you too.
A Ford F150 Eco-boost with heavy duty tow package towing an 8300lb travel trailer gets about 13mpg.
No matter what snacks you pack, the ones behind the glass of the vending machine will always be more appealing to your children.
Fireworks viewed from the side lot at a Hardees in SC, doesn't have the ambience of Disney, but they are still beautiful, and the kids love it.
Sleeping in our own bed after a day on the road is awesome.
The plan was fluid, flexible and fun. The reality has been, well, so far it has been one discovery after another.
They say you learn something new every day. Some days, you might learn more than others. Here are some things I've learned in the last 24:
If you don't finish packing the night before you leave? You might not get on the road until 2pm your first day out.
Starbucks has an app which will locate any Starbucks in a 50 square mile area based on your current location. It can also tell you that you have $0.00 on your Starbucks gold card.
Port Orange has a lovely Super Target with a marginal Starbucks.
The only campground you are staying in with a pool, will have the pool closed during office hours, which don't occur until three hours after checkout. Your children may be disappointed.
There is a 6 foot tall chicken at the campground in Walterboro, SC. But their pool is not open much on July 4th weekend.
A 386 mile, 5.5 hour drive will take 10 hours.
There will be more potty stops than you expect.
The cap will jiggle loose from your bumper and your sewer hose will fall out somewhere on the highway. Duct tape will remedy that and look very fashionable.
The front axle weighs 3080 lbs, the rear axle weighs 4080. For a gross vehicle weight (GVW) of 7160. The truck maximum GVW is 7350. Good thing I lost 60 lbs...
Four bikes on a bike rack hanging from your trailer bumper will break the welds and begin to tear your bumper right off. Fortunately, you will discover this at the first nights stop before losing bumper, bikes, spare tire and killing anyone who might've run into it.
In car video screens and DVD players are a good, good thing.
If your toddler tells you he's not done going to the bathroom, and you wipe him anyway, you'll have to do it again.
There's a town named Coosawhatchie. I extend my sincere condolences to all individuals who must list that on their resumes, marriage certificates, and Facebook pages.
The camper weighs 8360 fully loaded. The truck is rated to pull up to 13,500. Well, at least we did THAT right.
This Pro Pride 3P hitch was worth every single penny. Thank you Sean.
Just because there is a Krispy Kreme sign on the gas station doesn't mean they have Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Go figure.
Loves travel center has an app which tells you where every Loves in America is, as well as indicating the current gas price. They sell aspirin for the headache that gives you too.
A Ford F150 Eco-boost with heavy duty tow package towing an 8300lb travel trailer gets about 13mpg.
No matter what snacks you pack, the ones behind the glass of the vending machine will always be more appealing to your children.
Fireworks viewed from the side lot at a Hardees in SC, doesn't have the ambience of Disney, but they are still beautiful, and the kids love it.
Sleeping in our own bed after a day on the road is awesome.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
How to Leave a Message
Before placing your call, be sure that children are duly occupied and secure so as not to be a distraction. Check. Place call to Piano Tuner and listen carefully to 2 minute long prerecorded message featuring references to skills and extensive professional training. Followed quickly by a number where he can be reached and a beep. While writing number down, make sure 19 month old aspiring musician has access to small wooden recorder and is tooting joyfully at your feet. Miss hearing last two numbers. Sigh exasperatingly and hang up.
Place call again, listen with slightly less interest to prerecorded message and with much more intent to the phone number where he can be reached. While listening intently, have 19 month old tweeting and tooting with renewed gusto JUST as last number is spoken, and groan with even greater exasperation. Hang up and note that child has stopped tooting and is busily entertaining himself with a nice quiet book. Chuf at the irony.
Place call yet again. Listen, and recite in time, outgoing message. Squeeze head painfully between palm and phone as phone number is read for the third time. Write number triumphantly and with exclamatory "HA!", wait for beep to leave message.
BEEP! Begin leaving message of introduction as 19 month old rediscovers wooden instrument and happily toots ode to joy while running at your legs for a tackle. Twist free of tooting toddler while explaining where you heard of tuner's services and add resounding bark of basset who has also had her fill of kinder music for the day. To oddly melodic and well timed tooting and barking, add energetic grab of dishtowel from sink to toss in general direction of dog. Make sure dishtowel is unexpectedly soaking wet and fling water all over self and kitchen in the process.
Keep leaving message through gritted teeth and impending laughter at dog's startled silence and immediate commencement of barking. For grand finale, have wildly tooting toddler discover that he is sorely lacking in the percussion department and grab nearest kitchen cabinet door. Have toddler open and slam cabinet in surprisingly rapid succession, while maintaining perfect pitch and volume on wooden instrument. Dog must still be barking to create a cacophony unrivaled by a Metallica concert.
Stop and restart message repeatedly, stifling laughter and ending in rapid recitation of own phone number. All of this while grabbing for wooden instrument and door handle as toddler screams and runs away wailing in protest.
Hang up phone. Stand with mouth agape and wonder if piano really needs to be tuned... because he probably won't be calling back.
Place call again, listen with slightly less interest to prerecorded message and with much more intent to the phone number where he can be reached. While listening intently, have 19 month old tweeting and tooting with renewed gusto JUST as last number is spoken, and groan with even greater exasperation. Hang up and note that child has stopped tooting and is busily entertaining himself with a nice quiet book. Chuf at the irony.
Place call yet again. Listen, and recite in time, outgoing message. Squeeze head painfully between palm and phone as phone number is read for the third time. Write number triumphantly and with exclamatory "HA!", wait for beep to leave message.
BEEP! Begin leaving message of introduction as 19 month old rediscovers wooden instrument and happily toots ode to joy while running at your legs for a tackle. Twist free of tooting toddler while explaining where you heard of tuner's services and add resounding bark of basset who has also had her fill of kinder music for the day. To oddly melodic and well timed tooting and barking, add energetic grab of dishtowel from sink to toss in general direction of dog. Make sure dishtowel is unexpectedly soaking wet and fling water all over self and kitchen in the process.
Keep leaving message through gritted teeth and impending laughter at dog's startled silence and immediate commencement of barking. For grand finale, have wildly tooting toddler discover that he is sorely lacking in the percussion department and grab nearest kitchen cabinet door. Have toddler open and slam cabinet in surprisingly rapid succession, while maintaining perfect pitch and volume on wooden instrument. Dog must still be barking to create a cacophony unrivaled by a Metallica concert.
Stop and restart message repeatedly, stifling laughter and ending in rapid recitation of own phone number. All of this while grabbing for wooden instrument and door handle as toddler screams and runs away wailing in protest.
Hang up phone. Stand with mouth agape and wonder if piano really needs to be tuned... because he probably won't be calling back.
Friday, September 11, 2009
AM Dialogue With a 7 Year Old Who Knows Everything
Mommy: (Stumbling bleary-eyed towards the coffee machine) Good morning Pooky bear, Mommy overslept. Can you go get dressed while I make you breakfast?
Noah: (Twirling clumsily falls into kitchen bar stool) Ouch! Mom can I play Wii?
Mommy: (Fumbling uselessly with the coffee maker) Noah, please go get dressed honey, I don't want you to be late for school.
Noah: Mumbles something as he skips and careens through the hallway to his room.
5 Minutes later...
Mommy: (Willing coffee to brew faster, slapping sandwich together. Feeling like a scene in some movie I can't remember where Mom makes sandwiches badly, shoves in brown paper bag, sprinkles in skittles, balls up bag and hands to startled child.) Noah! Are you dressed?
Noah: Silence...
Mommy: (Sliding cheese toast across the counter) Noah?!
Noah: (Hops down hallway putting on first sock) Still no words.
Mommy: (Rooting through refrigerator for suitable lunch fruit) Noah. Do you have your homework from last night? We need to put it in your folder.
Noah: Silence...
Mommy: Noah, where is your spelling word list?
Noah: I don't know.
Mommy: You worked on it at that table over there, please go look for it.
Noah: (Feigning a search, tilts head left and right) I don't know where it is mom.
Mommy: Well keep looking, I need you to put it in your folder.
This pattern repeats for 5 more minutes until...
Noah: (Throwing up his hands in frustration while chewing cheese toast and peering into the trash can for his homework) I can't find it, I think the baby was trying to get it. Maybe he crumpled it up and threw it away. I didn't finish it anyway. Does it matter?
Mommy: Yes it matters! You didn't finish it?? You need to turn it in today for a grade. I thought you finished it! (Mommy rifles through desk papers and produces lined paper and a pencil.) Sit here, finish your breakfast, and write these spelling words in alphabetical order.
Noah: Sigh... Do I have to?
Mommy: Yes!
5 Minutes later
Noah: I'm finished! Can I play Wii?
Mommy: (Changing baby) Put it in your folder Noah. We've got to go.
Noah: I don't know where my back pack is.
Mommy: On the counter, please find it we need to go.
Noah: The folder isn't in the back pack. I don't know where it is.
Mommy: (Finishes dressing baby and comes out to kitchen to find Noah driving matchbox cars along kitchen counter 2 feet from folder.)
Noah: (Matchbox car in one hand, homework in other makes Vrrrrmmmming noises.) I don't know where my folder is mom.
Mommy: (standing with baby on hip looks incredulously at folder and then at child and wonders whether we should see an eye doctor or a shrink.) Really? You can't find it? Noah...find your folder.
Noah: Mom?! I don't KNOW where it is!
Mom: (Gestures with her head towards the counter.)
Noah: Oh.
5 Minutes later in the car...
Noah: Mom? Can I play Wii when I get home today.
Mom: I don't know.
Noah: (Twirling clumsily falls into kitchen bar stool) Ouch! Mom can I play Wii?
Mommy: (Fumbling uselessly with the coffee maker) Noah, please go get dressed honey, I don't want you to be late for school.
Noah: Mumbles something as he skips and careens through the hallway to his room.
5 Minutes later...
Mommy: (Willing coffee to brew faster, slapping sandwich together. Feeling like a scene in some movie I can't remember where Mom makes sandwiches badly, shoves in brown paper bag, sprinkles in skittles, balls up bag and hands to startled child.) Noah! Are you dressed?
Noah: Silence...
Mommy: (Sliding cheese toast across the counter) Noah?!
Noah: (Hops down hallway putting on first sock) Still no words.
Mommy: (Rooting through refrigerator for suitable lunch fruit) Noah. Do you have your homework from last night? We need to put it in your folder.
Noah: Silence...
Mommy: Noah, where is your spelling word list?
Noah: I don't know.
Mommy: You worked on it at that table over there, please go look for it.
Noah: (Feigning a search, tilts head left and right) I don't know where it is mom.
Mommy: Well keep looking, I need you to put it in your folder.
This pattern repeats for 5 more minutes until...
Noah: (Throwing up his hands in frustration while chewing cheese toast and peering into the trash can for his homework) I can't find it, I think the baby was trying to get it. Maybe he crumpled it up and threw it away. I didn't finish it anyway. Does it matter?
Mommy: Yes it matters! You didn't finish it?? You need to turn it in today for a grade. I thought you finished it! (Mommy rifles through desk papers and produces lined paper and a pencil.) Sit here, finish your breakfast, and write these spelling words in alphabetical order.
Noah: Sigh... Do I have to?
Mommy: Yes!
5 Minutes later
Noah: I'm finished! Can I play Wii?
Mommy: (Changing baby) Put it in your folder Noah. We've got to go.
Noah: I don't know where my back pack is.
Mommy: On the counter, please find it we need to go.
Noah: The folder isn't in the back pack. I don't know where it is.
Mommy: (Finishes dressing baby and comes out to kitchen to find Noah driving matchbox cars along kitchen counter 2 feet from folder.)
Noah: (Matchbox car in one hand, homework in other makes Vrrrrmmmming noises.) I don't know where my folder is mom.
Mommy: (standing with baby on hip looks incredulously at folder and then at child and wonders whether we should see an eye doctor or a shrink.) Really? You can't find it? Noah...find your folder.
Noah: Mom?! I don't KNOW where it is!
Mom: (Gestures with her head towards the counter.)
Noah: Oh.
5 Minutes later in the car...
Noah: Mom? Can I play Wii when I get home today.
Mom: I don't know.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Yellow
Yellow. It used to be one of my favorite colors. I think I still like purpley blue the best, but yellow was a close second. These days yellow has a new connotation.
See, when you're a good little boy in school, you're on "green". I guess green means go, go, go. And that's good because Noah does like to go. Then, if you're a little bit bad, say you accidentally stick your tongue out at someone, or perhaps you accidentally bark like a dog with a friend during class; then you "turn your card" to yellow. Caution, you're on yellow and headed for red.
There used to be an orange, before red, but that is SO first grade. Now we go right from yellow to red baby.
We were pretty familiar with yellow last year. It was a twice, thrice a week occurrence. We were regulars in yellow territory. A little bit bad on a regular basis. I tried bribery, remindery and angry, to no avail. If standardized tests are accurate, so too is the card turning system because Noah did not vary.
This year hopes were high. We have undoubtedly the best 2nd grade teacher in the school; she is WONDERFUL. Noah loves her, we love her, things have been going well.
Last week one yellow creeped in, this week, two days in a row. Today? I'm already feeling like it's a yellow day for some reason and I haven't even picked him up from school. I'm trying not to overreact. Maybe it just a fluke. Would it be better NOT to say anything about it? I mean who didn't stick their tongue out at a friend in 2nd grade every day? Or bark for that matter. I'm sure I barked during the occasional spelling test.
It's the teachers way of controlling behavior and reminding. Not mine. Maybe I should stay out of it unless it's red. I just don't know.
What I do know? I really don't like yellow anymore. I think I'll just stick to asking him how he did on his spelling test today. Ignorance is bliss.
See, when you're a good little boy in school, you're on "green". I guess green means go, go, go. And that's good because Noah does like to go. Then, if you're a little bit bad, say you accidentally stick your tongue out at someone, or perhaps you accidentally bark like a dog with a friend during class; then you "turn your card" to yellow. Caution, you're on yellow and headed for red.
There used to be an orange, before red, but that is SO first grade. Now we go right from yellow to red baby.
We were pretty familiar with yellow last year. It was a twice, thrice a week occurrence. We were regulars in yellow territory. A little bit bad on a regular basis. I tried bribery, remindery and angry, to no avail. If standardized tests are accurate, so too is the card turning system because Noah did not vary.
This year hopes were high. We have undoubtedly the best 2nd grade teacher in the school; she is WONDERFUL. Noah loves her, we love her, things have been going well.
Last week one yellow creeped in, this week, two days in a row. Today? I'm already feeling like it's a yellow day for some reason and I haven't even picked him up from school. I'm trying not to overreact. Maybe it just a fluke. Would it be better NOT to say anything about it? I mean who didn't stick their tongue out at a friend in 2nd grade every day? Or bark for that matter. I'm sure I barked during the occasional spelling test.
It's the teachers way of controlling behavior and reminding. Not mine. Maybe I should stay out of it unless it's red. I just don't know.
What I do know? I really don't like yellow anymore. I think I'll just stick to asking him how he did on his spelling test today. Ignorance is bliss.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Goldfish and Elmo
I was wondering this morning as I checked email, what would I do without Elmo? That precious 20 minutes that allows me to check news headlines, start laundry, sip instead of gulp my coffee and generally give me the only 20 minutes of peace and solitude outside of nap time in a day.
Then later, right now actually, I realized that there is another little gem in my arsenal...Goldfish crackers. A baked, cheesy, crunchy, semi-non guilt producing snack that can be toted anywhere. Ahh Goldfish crackers and Elmo, it's the little things in life.
Then later, right now actually, I realized that there is another little gem in my arsenal...Goldfish crackers. A baked, cheesy, crunchy, semi-non guilt producing snack that can be toted anywhere. Ahh Goldfish crackers and Elmo, it's the little things in life.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
The First Day of First Grade
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.
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.
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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