Friday, October 29, 2010

Mummy's juice

Before I start, I should say that I don't drink very much. I am a glass-of-wine-in-the-evening type of person. On with my tale.

I was pouring myself a glass of wine yesterday evening and C came in and our conversation went something like this:

C: Are you having some wine?
Me: Yes. Would you like some juice?
C: Yes please. Apple juice, not Mummy's juice.

Well, it is juice. Kind of.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Feeding the baby

There are a few things to know when you start to introduce the baby to food.

You just need to accept the fact that when you feed a baby, baby food that is, you are going to look like an idiot. The sooner you understand and accept this, the sooner you stop focusing on trying not to make "eat this" faces and spilling food everywhere in the process.

I can remember feeding C and getting food on every part of his face. It was always the worst when it dried into his eyebrows before I wiped him down. Now that I am three kids into the game, I can usually get through an entire meal with F without spilling or smudging beyond his little chin. Of course, there is the occasional lump of oatmeal that gets up his nose, but that is due to his sudden movements more than my skills. This is because I look like a total idiot while I feed him.

My husband hardly gets any food into the baby. Why? Because he doesn't attempt the face-making and baby-tricking tips that I give him.

Aside from face-making, baby-tricking is key. When they first start eating baby food, this is not necessary. However, they reach an age where they get sneaky. This happens earlier than any first-time parent could possibly anticipate. I, for one, thought that kids didn't get sneaky until they could talk (I can practically hear the fits of laughter from the experienced parents who are reading this).

No. They get sneaky early! When they identify a food they don't like, they start to take note of where the spoon originated. When the spoon returns for another scoop the grossness, they make it difficult for you to successfully deliver said grossness. So, you get smarter and hide the dish from their view.

The baby then takes note of the color and/or smell and checks the spoon before it gets to their mouth. See what I mean? They are sneaky little buggers!!

Luckily, by the time they reach this point, they are usually starting to feed themselves and you are onto a whole new set of problems and are no longer distracted by the face-making and baby-tricking.

You are now onto toddler-deceiving, which is a whole other topic for a later post.

Friday, October 15, 2010

Baby addict

I am baby crazy. I love everything, okay, almost everything about babies. I love how soft they are. I adore the way they nuzzle against you. I am nuts for the way they smell (when they aren't stinky). When they pout their little lips and suck in their sleep, I melt.

And it's not just the first few months of babyhood that I love.

Jump ahead a few months and I am all about the cooing. The little sounds they make crack me up. The fact that they develop their little personalities so early fascinates me. One of the cutest things of all is when they first learn to clap their little hands and find it so amusing.

I could really go on for a long, long time.

My husband and I have been extremely fortunate in the baby department. Although M and F were both preemies and had to do stints in the NICU, we have had no major health scares, no colic, manageable teething and overall happy babies. This makes my baby addition a little harder to crack.

Here's another thing that makes it easier: I really don't like being pregnant. I mean I really, really don't like it. My pregnancies have not been easy and, due to the premature birth of one baby already, my pregnancy with F was filled with extra check-ups, weekly injections, hourly medication and a whole lot of worrying.

Does that stop me from wanting another one? No, not really.

My father told me once that he thought I was a baby addict, hence my high output of children in such a small period of time. His theory was that once they reached a certain age, I started realizing that they were not going to be a baby for much longer and, before I would have a chance to miss their baby-ness, I would just get pregnant again. I haven't really had time to test this theory until now.

F is approaching the age at which I would normally be getting production underway again. I was in the office the other day and saw a heavily pregnant co-worker and felt a pang of envy. Envy. For pregnancy. Me, envious of that which I detest.

Shit. My dad was right.

So I come before you today to say:

Hi, my name is Laura and I am a baby addict. Hi, Laura.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

There will be days like this

Bad days (for me) tend to come in batches. A couple of days here. A week there. It usually isn't as simple as waking up in the morning and starting fresh.

I am in the middle of such a period of time. Let me give you a run down of today's events.

The morning started well. The boys all slept all night - no teething screams, no "I'm afraid of the dark" interludes - and I was able to begin the day with a full night of sleep under my belt. That was the high point of the day.

For some unexplained reason, probably having to do with the low pressure system, thunderstorms make my kids really cranky. M threw two really impressive tantrums before I had gotten through my first cup of coffee.

Next, C took a spill that caused a superficial head wound. Once I stopped the bleeding, I spent the next two hours keeping him awake in case of a mild concussion.

Midday brought really gross, dirty diapers from each of my children. Except for C, who is no longer wearing diapers, so that particular mess didn't have the same ease of disposal as his brother's messes. Potty training is a dirty, dirty business.

Fast forward to later in the day and M dives (on purpose) off a chair in my room into the corner of my bed, which wins him a nosebleed. It also gave me my second blood-stained shirt of the day. This noseblees reappeared later on in the evening after he took another fall while coming in from the park. Good thing I hadn't bothered to change my shirt.

The rest of the evening was one screaming fit after another. Headache for C, another tantrum for M and some serious teething pain for F.

Luckily, Nick and I have a non-negotiable bedtime policy, so the madness ended at 8:00 p.m. My mood at this point is sour, at best, and I am confident in assuming that my dreams tonight will be bloody flashbacks of the day.

Today was Day 2, maybe 2 1/2 of this particular bad patch. The other days were not quite as bad, but they were tainted with a bad mood that has settled over our house for a time.

I am more than ready for it to move along, so I can have a normal, mostly managable day. Really, it would just be nice to lose the desire to run out on my own the very second that my husband walks in the door from work. I like to go out for a break every now and then, but needing to leave the moment that someone comes to relieve me is never a good sign.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

I don't have to pull out my hair, it's coming out on its own

A bizarre side effect to pregnancy is that you don't lose any hair while you are carrying the baby. After giving birth, it is only a matter of time before you not only resume normal hair loss, but all of the hair that you didn't lose during pregnancy jumps ship as well. This can result in tumbleweeds of tresses blowing throughout your home.

Some women lose hair in clumps, which I can imagine is frightening. Mine didn't fall out in clumps, but I did lose a staggering amount after having F - way more than I lost with C and M. Further proof that every pregnancy is different.

Many pregnancy books discuss this topic, but they typically say something along the lines of "some increased hair loss is common in the few months after giving birth." That bit of information doesn't prepare you for pulling hair balls the size of a small woodland creature from your shower drain.

Sometimes you need the gory details to truly understand what is coming your way. So, there you go, information AND gross details.

Friday, October 1, 2010


Definition: the miniature vacation that occurs when you get to drive in your car without your children.

When there are kids in the car, the radio stays low, the music is usually child-oriented, there is a lot of buckling and usually some screaming. Even if they are all asleep, they are still there and you have to be aware of them.

A car trip without the kids can be like a little getaway. I put on very loud, very non-child-friendly music. I sing. I dance. I go crazy (while still being a responsible driver). If I am not in the mood for music, I can drive in silence. Complete silence. Like a spa, only without the masseuse and gurgling fountain.

I don't get to be by myself very much, so I take advantage of time on my own whenever I can.

Solo car trips are a treat for me. I don't think my husband understands this, but I know that all of you other child-haulers get what I am saying.

Never underestimate the recuperative potential of a car trip on your own.