Baby M is often a bit serious these days which makes the laughs we do get all the more fun. Here are the top 5 things that make Baby M laugh:
1. Blowing raspberries on his belly
2. Being carried around on Daddy's shoulders
3. Watching the dog roll around to scratch her back
4. Mommy's silly top-of-the-head ponytail
5. The phrase "Peanut, peanut butter--- jelly" when sung with a big dramatic pause before the "jelly"
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Baby bites dog
Baby M has been crawling for a couple of weeks now and he is getting faster and more confident by the day. Gone are the days when I could plop him down in the center of the rug with a toy and expect to find him there when I returned. In fact yesterday I lost him momentarily when I left him playing happily in his room and ran into the office to grab a pen. When I got back 30 seconds later he was gone. After a brief moment of panic I found him hiding behind the glider rocker. He thought hiding from Mommy was a riot and began laughing like a loon.
This new milestone means some changes for me, but I think our dog may be having the hardest time adjusting. Up until now all interaction between Baby M and our dog, a Lab-German Shepherd mix, has been closely monitored by me. Thankfully our dog is very mellow and has patiently allowed Baby M to "pet" her, which really means pull her tail, pinch her back, chew her feet and attempt to climb on top of her. I am always right there, scratching her ears and making sure Baby M doesn't get to rough. Now, however, Baby M decides when he wants some doggy-time, and it is pretty much all the time. He chases the dog all over the house hoping to get a handful of hair. Our poor puppy runs from room to room, hides behind furniture, until finally, Baby M's persistence wears her down and she whines to be let out. I know this has been a rough few months for our dog-- we used to go on long walks every day and now she is lucky to get walked once a week. We'll try to give her a little extra attention this week so she knows she is still loved.
This new milestone means some changes for me, but I think our dog may be having the hardest time adjusting. Up until now all interaction between Baby M and our dog, a Lab-German Shepherd mix, has been closely monitored by me. Thankfully our dog is very mellow and has patiently allowed Baby M to "pet" her, which really means pull her tail, pinch her back, chew her feet and attempt to climb on top of her. I am always right there, scratching her ears and making sure Baby M doesn't get to rough. Now, however, Baby M decides when he wants some doggy-time, and it is pretty much all the time. He chases the dog all over the house hoping to get a handful of hair. Our poor puppy runs from room to room, hides behind furniture, until finally, Baby M's persistence wears her down and she whines to be let out. I know this has been a rough few months for our dog-- we used to go on long walks every day and now she is lucky to get walked once a week. We'll try to give her a little extra attention this week so she knows she is still loved.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Mother's Day
So Sunday was my first official Mother's Day. Last year I was about 5 months pregnant on Mother's Day and just starting to show, so I did end up getting a few "Happy Mother's Day" wishes, but I really don't think they are merited until you can actually hold your child in your arms. Back then Baby M was not even known as Baby M yet. At the time I was still trying to convince my husband that North was the perfect name for our firstborn son. Does everyone go through that "unique" name phase? Thankfully I came to my senses and didn't end up as an entry on Baby's Named A Bad Bad Thing.
Last year I made brunch reservations for us and both sets of grandparents at Shanghai Red's in Marina Del Rey. It is normally a very nice restaurant, but the Mother's Day Brunch was a complete mad-house. I waited in line 20 minutes for a waffle, got elbowed over the last piece of salmon and was vomited on in the restroom. I was expecting this year to be substantially better, but I got a little worried on Saturday night when my husband said to me, "I think I'm in trouble. I forgot that you're a mom." I was shocked. Most days I feel like all I am is a mom, what with all the feeding and diapering and bathing, etc. It is actually sort of comforting to know that my husband sees me as more than just Baby M's mother. On the other hand, it would be nice to know that he recognizes how much work it takes to care for Baby M.
Well, my husband and Baby M stepped up and surprised me on Sunday morning with breakfast in bed. They had loaded up a tray with orange juice, flowers, 3 greasy breakfast sandwiches and hash-browns from Jack-in-the-Box. (Three because they didn't know which one I liked, not because I'm a glutton.) Fast food breakfast sandwiches are one of my guilty pleasures, along with Gossip Girl and old George Michael ballads, so I couldn't have been happier. My husband even signed the card "Baby M" proving that my blog has at least 1 reader. All in all it was a lovely Mother's Day.
Last year I made brunch reservations for us and both sets of grandparents at Shanghai Red's in Marina Del Rey. It is normally a very nice restaurant, but the Mother's Day Brunch was a complete mad-house. I waited in line 20 minutes for a waffle, got elbowed over the last piece of salmon and was vomited on in the restroom. I was expecting this year to be substantially better, but I got a little worried on Saturday night when my husband said to me, "I think I'm in trouble. I forgot that you're a mom." I was shocked. Most days I feel like all I am is a mom, what with all the feeding and diapering and bathing, etc. It is actually sort of comforting to know that my husband sees me as more than just Baby M's mother. On the other hand, it would be nice to know that he recognizes how much work it takes to care for Baby M.
Well, my husband and Baby M stepped up and surprised me on Sunday morning with breakfast in bed. They had loaded up a tray with orange juice, flowers, 3 greasy breakfast sandwiches and hash-browns from Jack-in-the-Box. (Three because they didn't know which one I liked, not because I'm a glutton.) Fast food breakfast sandwiches are one of my guilty pleasures, along with Gossip Girl and old George Michael ballads, so I couldn't have been happier. My husband even signed the card "Baby M" proving that my blog has at least 1 reader. All in all it was a lovely Mother's Day.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Mom or Man?
A few months ago a friend of mine with 2 small sons said to me, "Do you ever wish you lived with your mom instead of your husband?" At the time I looked at her a bit quizzically. I mean, I love my mom and all, but there is only so much re-hashing of Dancing With the Stars that I can take and besides, I'm married to a pretty cool guy. But after spending a week at my parent's house while my husband was on a business trip I totally get it.
It was great. My mom came and got Baby M when he was crying inconsolably at 5AM. She cleaned up after he spit peas all over the dining room. She held him so I could try on more than one pair of jeans at the mall. Plus she did all the normal mom stuff like cooking dinner and doing my laundry. Not once did she "dress" the baby and then claim not to notice the unsnapped onesie crotch flaps flopping around on top of Baby M's pants. I don't think I truly appreciated my mom until I became a parent myself. And after a week of having her mother me and Baby M the lumpy scarf I knit for her as a Mother's Day gift seems woefully inadequate.
Now that I'm back home I find being alone with Baby M for 11 hours a day a bit overwhelming. My back is sore since no one is around to help with the heavy lifting (Baby M is nearly 20 lbs and has yet to outgrow his penchant for being held all day). On the plus side, I haven't had to hear about any ballroom dancers, smart 5th graders or wannabee pop stars. And I guess it is nice to have my husband back too, even though he is watching Lost while I scrub sweet potatoes off of the piano.
It was great. My mom came and got Baby M when he was crying inconsolably at 5AM. She cleaned up after he spit peas all over the dining room. She held him so I could try on more than one pair of jeans at the mall. Plus she did all the normal mom stuff like cooking dinner and doing my laundry. Not once did she "dress" the baby and then claim not to notice the unsnapped onesie crotch flaps flopping around on top of Baby M's pants. I don't think I truly appreciated my mom until I became a parent myself. And after a week of having her mother me and Baby M the lumpy scarf I knit for her as a Mother's Day gift seems woefully inadequate.
Now that I'm back home I find being alone with Baby M for 11 hours a day a bit overwhelming. My back is sore since no one is around to help with the heavy lifting (Baby M is nearly 20 lbs and has yet to outgrow his penchant for being held all day). On the plus side, I haven't had to hear about any ballroom dancers, smart 5th graders or wannabee pop stars. And I guess it is nice to have my husband back too, even though he is watching Lost while I scrub sweet potatoes off of the piano.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Not the brightest bulb on the block
That would me, not Baby M, although he did spend the better part of the afternoon playing with a slotted spoon. However, I think that is just because he's a baby, not due to any dimness on his part. I'm the one who seems to have a short circuit these days.
I admit that I have had my share of forgetfulness and inattention brought on my months of sleep deprivation, but up until now I felt that my reasoning skills remained generally in tact. Well, no more. Today I had a serious case of Mommy Brain (and not the good kind that helps with empathy and multi-tasking).
Baby M loves to splash around in the sink, but he is getting too big to hold over the sink comfortably so today I had the inspired idea to let him splash around with a bowl of water on the kitchen floor. I sat him down with a big Tupperware bowl containing a few inches of water. I expected the floor to get a bit wet from his splashing, but I did not foresee what would have been obvious to my former self-- Baby M immediately picked up the bowl and dumped the contents all over himself and the floor. I felt like a complete moron, but on the up side, the floor got mopped this week.
I admit that I have had my share of forgetfulness and inattention brought on my months of sleep deprivation, but up until now I felt that my reasoning skills remained generally in tact. Well, no more. Today I had a serious case of Mommy Brain (and not the good kind that helps with empathy and multi-tasking).
Baby M loves to splash around in the sink, but he is getting too big to hold over the sink comfortably so today I had the inspired idea to let him splash around with a bowl of water on the kitchen floor. I sat him down with a big Tupperware bowl containing a few inches of water. I expected the floor to get a bit wet from his splashing, but I did not foresee what would have been obvious to my former self-- Baby M immediately picked up the bowl and dumped the contents all over himself and the floor. I felt like a complete moron, but on the up side, the floor got mopped this week.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Hunger Strike
Okay, so it's not exactly a hunger strike since Baby M still nurses like a champ, but he is refusing all solid food and has been ever since I first tried to tempt him with some rice cereal three and half weeks ago. I find this turn of events particularly surprising for two reasons. First off for the past few months Baby M has put anything and everything in his mouth. I have uttered "telephones are not for eating", "our friends are not for eating" and "the dog is not for eating" more times than I can count. Secondly both my husband and I eat just about everything. Really. We eat red meat and carbs, seafood and hot dogs, ice cream and cotton candy. You will never have a problem accommodating us at a dinner party. Naturally we thought Baby M would follow in our gastronomical footsteps. But, alas, he seems to be forging his own path.
So far we've tried rice cereal, avocados, bananas and pears. Every feeding session starts out the same, with Baby M screaming as we strap him into his high chair (this reaction is common to any contraption with straps-- car seats, strollers, etc.) After a few choruses of The Hokey Pokey and some fun games with Mommy's ponytail Baby M is in a good enough mood to try some food. Every spoonful is preceded by an elaborate spoon ballet with Battlestar Galactica inspired sound effects and met with a grimace and spitting out of the offending substance. Lately Baby M has taken to stuffing his bib into his mouth in a preemptive strike against eating. I sense he may be a stubborn child.
Our pediatrician says not to worry and to just keep on trying to feed him a couple of times a day. In the meantime I guess I'll just work on my Hokey Pokey.
So far we've tried rice cereal, avocados, bananas and pears. Every feeding session starts out the same, with Baby M screaming as we strap him into his high chair (this reaction is common to any contraption with straps-- car seats, strollers, etc.) After a few choruses of The Hokey Pokey and some fun games with Mommy's ponytail Baby M is in a good enough mood to try some food. Every spoonful is preceded by an elaborate spoon ballet with Battlestar Galactica inspired sound effects and met with a grimace and spitting out of the offending substance. Lately Baby M has taken to stuffing his bib into his mouth in a preemptive strike against eating. I sense he may be a stubborn child.
Our pediatrician says not to worry and to just keep on trying to feed him a couple of times a day. In the meantime I guess I'll just work on my Hokey Pokey.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Parasomnia and Nightmares
I am reading yet another sleep book (Sleeping Through the Night by Jodi Mindell). I know I keep saying that I need to quit reading these parenting books, but I just can't stop myself. This particular book is written by an associate director of a sleep disorders center and now I am convinced that Baby M has parasomnia.
Baby M has not been sleeping for more than 2 or 3 hours at a time during the night so I've gotten into the habit of napping with him in the afternoon. He nearly always wakes up from his nap crying inconsolably, even when I am lying right there next to him. He doesn't seem to notice me when I pat his back, say his name or even pick him up. According to the book, this could be a case of Confusional Arousal, which is a mild form of parasomnia and apparently very common. The author's advice is to just leave him alone.
Initially I wondered if Baby M could be having nightmares. I can still recall my childhood nightmares and remember crying out for my parents in a panic. My parents generally found my nightmares hilarious, although to their credit, they saved their laughter for the following morning and did their best to offer comfort and a sympathetic ear in the middle of the night. However, I will always remember the night my mother couldn't stop giggling when I described the "sponge-nose bandit" nightmare. I dreamed that my brother had a kitchen sponge on his face where his nose should have been. An evil sponge salesman cut off my brother's sponge-nose so that he could sell it which resulted in my brother's death. Looking back I can see how a 4 year old tearfully explaining how her brother's nose was a highly sought after sponge is funny, but at the time my mother's laughter was the exactly the opposite of what I needed. I don't have too many items on my "Things my parents did that I'll never do" list because they were pretty good parents, but laughing at my child's nightmares is one of them.
Baby M has not been sleeping for more than 2 or 3 hours at a time during the night so I've gotten into the habit of napping with him in the afternoon. He nearly always wakes up from his nap crying inconsolably, even when I am lying right there next to him. He doesn't seem to notice me when I pat his back, say his name or even pick him up. According to the book, this could be a case of Confusional Arousal, which is a mild form of parasomnia and apparently very common. The author's advice is to just leave him alone.
Initially I wondered if Baby M could be having nightmares. I can still recall my childhood nightmares and remember crying out for my parents in a panic. My parents generally found my nightmares hilarious, although to their credit, they saved their laughter for the following morning and did their best to offer comfort and a sympathetic ear in the middle of the night. However, I will always remember the night my mother couldn't stop giggling when I described the "sponge-nose bandit" nightmare. I dreamed that my brother had a kitchen sponge on his face where his nose should have been. An evil sponge salesman cut off my brother's sponge-nose so that he could sell it which resulted in my brother's death. Looking back I can see how a 4 year old tearfully explaining how her brother's nose was a highly sought after sponge is funny, but at the time my mother's laughter was the exactly the opposite of what I needed. I don't have too many items on my "Things my parents did that I'll never do" list because they were pretty good parents, but laughing at my child's nightmares is one of them.
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