She Says… Babies

Thank you all for the happy thoughts you sent my way after last week’s whiny post. A weekend of sunshine did me good and I’m feeling like myself again.

On top of that, Owen’s little fever turned out to be nothing and he seems to have emerged from whatever it was that was causing him to act like a little monster last week. I don’t know if it was a bug he was fighting or lack of sleep due to being excited about his bed or what, but I’m just thankful it is over now. And, in its wake, it seems to have left an exceptionally sweet child whose capacity for playing by himself has doubled and whose behavior could not be better. Phew. I guess those kinds of developmental jumps are worth the painful week? I guess? I’m still not sure why they seem to be so pronounced with Owen, and only in retrospect do I see what caused all of that ridiculous fussing and terrible behavior.

Owen is super excited to be a big brother. He’ll often bring up things like, “I’m going to teach my baby brother to eat” or “I want to touch my baby brother’s toes” or “I’m going to bring him toys to hold” out of the blue. Recently this excitement has manifested itself as an obsession with babies.

He LOVES babies.

At school a few weeks ago, when the kids were still in their snowsuits, there was a little girl standing, stuck, crying on the playground. Owen’s teachers tell me they turned around and he was over next to her, patting her on the back and saying, “It’s ok. It’s ok.”. Sob.

And he’s always had a thing for hugging our friends’ babies (whether they liked it or not!).

When I arrived at school to pick Owen up on Friday, the mom of one of his friends was there with her newborn. The baby was crying in his stroller and as soon as he heard that little cry, Owen dropped his toy and came running from across the playground. He climbed up onto the stroller and started patting his foot, crooning, “S’ok. Why are you crying?” in this little sing-songy voice. He patted the baby’s head SO GENTLY (like, for real gently… which both amazed me and terrified me, because one can never tell when that gentle touch is going to turn not-so-gentle…) and dug the baby’s pacifier out of his blankets. Owen stuffed the paci in his mouth (backwards, but it didn’t seem to matter) while asking, “You want this?” over and over again.

I nearly cried. It was just about the sweetest thing. Thankfully the mother didn’t mind Owen’s little hands all over her baby (I wouldn’t have blamed her if she did!) and she praised him for being so gentle. I could barely tear Owen away to go home. He was in love.

Then, over the weekend we hung out with our friends who have a little guy who is about 15 months old. He toddled towards the parking lot (nowhere near the cars, but in that general direction) and Owen ran up to him and shouted, “Don’t walk! Cars won’t see you!” in an effort to keep him safe. Owen walked next to his little friend and put his arm around his shoulders. Buddies. Oh so sweet, until that arm-around-the-shoulders move made them both fall down, and Owen tried to pick him up by his head/neck. Clearly it came from a place of love and trying to help the kid up, but we have some lessons to learn about how to handle other kids. Gulp.

I’m beginning to see what kind of big brother Owen may be. Head over heels in love. Overly affectionate. Super gentle until he’s super NOT gentle. Protective.

We’ll have to watch him like a hawk.

Still, it makes my heart swell to watch him love on babies. I’ll have to remember this the next time I have to sign an incident report for him beating up a friend at school.

She Says… Gifts, Gifts and More Gifts

It seems like everyone I know is having a baby, and everyone Owen knows is turning 3. The number of baby shower gifts and toddler birthday presents we have had to buy in the last few months (and the next few) is mind-boggling. Every time I get an invitation, I think, “Oh yay! A fun party! But WHAT do I get for a present…”.

BABY GIFTS
In general, baby gifts are easy because I usually go for a medium-sized gift from the parents-to-be’s registry (because, really, it’s annoying when everyone gets you a receiving blanket and you still don’t have things like sheets that you really NEED), and then supplement with something little that I loved when Owen was tiny. Or, if I can carve out the time, a homemade item (I’m teaching myself to sew… very much a beginner) like burp cloths made from cute fabric or a baby quilt. Ok, I’ll be honest… I only gave a baby quilt once, and it took me the entire 9 months that I knew one of my dear friends was pregnant to make it. So that was kind of an exception. But still, homemade things are a favorite when I can swing it. But lately? Not so much.

My top 3 little “somethings” to add to my registry gift:

This “Baby Banana” teether/toothbrush makes me giggle. And Owen ADORED his.

These black and white flashcards are mesmerizing for babies.

This CD is my favorite. Owen and I listened to it every single night for his bedtime routine since he was 12 weeks old. I never switched it up because it was too perfect. I know it’s getting a little passe to give a CD, but whatevs.

And, if the friend is someone who I know well and I think would appreciate a book to read, I will often lend/give one of my two all-time favorite new baby books: Happiest Baby on the Block and Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child. I found them both to be immensely helpful. But in general I think parenting books are something the parents-to-be should choose for themselves.

KID BIRTHDAY PRESENTS
For some reason, I find toddler birthday gifts to be much harder to pick out. It’s hard to know what the kid already has at home (easier if you can spy on their toys at a playdate), or what kinds of activities they enjoy. I should be good at this… I see my kid playing every day. But this one always kind of stumps me.

Recent favorites have been:

Automoblox. These little cars that you take apart like a puzzle. Owen loves making “mixed up cars” and “limousines” by putting them back together in funny ways.

I Spy books. Owen could play I Spy forever… either with the book or just looking out the window. He’s remarkably good at remembering where things are. Way better than I am. And it’s been a good tool to practice taking turns at home for us.

Any Melissa & Doug wooden puzzles, really. But this one is a particular favorite at our house. Owen can do all four of the puzzles all by himself (though he prefers to have someone sitting with him so he can talk about it the whole time).

So here’s where I ask for help. What are your favorite go-to new baby and kid birthday gifts? I need some fresh ideas.

She Says… Adventures with Baby and Elmo

Apparently this is a continuation of this post. In addition to potty training them, Owen decided he would like to do everything with “Baby” and Elmo today.

They watched cars together (one of Owen’s favorite things to do). He pressed their faces up to the window so they could see too.

They played guitar together. Baby rocked out! Who knew she knew so many chords.

They went for a ride in the sled together. Too bad we haven’t gotten enough snow to really use this bad boy too much this year. But we pull it around the house despite the weather.

They went for a drive.

I’m not sure what they did to upset him, but Owen had to pull over and eject them. Sorry, guys!

Owen cooked for them.

And fed them cookies.

And FORCE fed them cookies.

And then they all had a post-cookie drink under the high chair.

 

Cutie pies. I am loving this “pretend play”!

She Says… I’ve Got the Fever

Nope, not the kind of fever we usually have around this house. (Though, mercifully, we haven’t had much of that at all recently!)

BABY FEVER.

For so long, I felt very strongly that I wasn’t quite ready to rock the boat and have another baby. My time with just Owen has been so special and sweet and intimate. Owen is such a lovely little boy and I haven’t felt ready to share him, or myself, with another baby. I wasn’t ready to split my attention and cause unnecessary chaos and turn my perfect life upside down.

Everyone around me is pregnant. And I mean everyone. Almost all of my friends who have babies Owen’s age are pregnant again. Together. Their bellies are growing and they laugh about how crazy it will be to have kids so close in age and how they will be best friends.

And slowly, ever so slowly, those little thoughts have begun to pop into my mind too. Fleeting, at first. A pang to feel those floppy newborn legs. An image in my mind of how cute Owen would be hugging a little “brudder”. Thinking about how, even if we got pregnant thisverysecond, we’d have 9 months to prepare and Owen would be like a different kid. Nine months ago feels like a lifetime in terms of the developmental milestones Owen has gone through, and I imagine the next 9 months will be the same. He’ll be big enough to help. He’ll be such an awesome big brother.

But then, of course, I hear the other voice in my head shouting, “Wait! Wait!”. Two kids in daycare changes our financial situation quite a bit. Two kids makes traveling (especially solo) that much harder. Two kids means we need to find a babysitter who’s cool with taking care of both at the same time. Two kids means splitting my attention during bedtime routines and cuddling with Owen one-on-one and not having the sole focus or time to have a long conversation filling in the blanks that his sweet toddler brain leaves out. And on and on and on. There’s a lot to think about when considering another baby.

And then, once my mind has gone in a million circles about timing and months and age difference and seasons to be pregnant… it all comes back to one, humbling thought. What a luxury to be able to actually plan when you get pregnant.

Although we’re not “trying” yet, and I really don’t know how quickly we will get pregnant, we are in a completely different situation than when we thought about getting pregnant the first time. And I am thankful for it every day. With Owen, we had our perfect schedule laid out, and then we took a detour when my body had other plans. Now, thanks to pregnancy and birth and, well, most likely just time without birth control, my body seems to have reset. We have no reason to believe that we will have trouble getting pregnant the next time. I’ve been charting cycles and they are shockingly normal with an identifiable ovulation day. No predictor kits. No drugs. No nothin’. Bodies are amazing things, people!

We have a plan for Baby #2. And it involves waiting a bit longer before we start trying. I’m just getting my head in the game.

What do you think is the ideal age difference between siblings? What month would you most like to give birth, if you could choose?

She Says… First Words!

Despite the rash, we had a lot of silly time this weekend. And an important first! Owen’s first word.

He’s been saying “Dada” (generally comes out like “DIH-dah”) to mean Daddy and Dog (it’s easy to get them confused), but also to mean lots of other things. He plays around with “Mmmmmummmummmumm”, but hasn’t really gotten “Mama”. Generally it’s a lot of cute “babadubadubadub” and “numanumanumanum”, so we don’t really consider those first words, exactly. Recently he’s been parroting a lot of the sounds we make, and carefully studying our mouths to see how we say certain words. Then on Sunday he dropped a toy and, totally unprovoked, said, “UH OH”. Clear as day. Of course I erupted with praise and laughter (and grabbed the video camera), so he continued to say it over and over.

Then on Monday he kept putting his arms up over his head. I can’t quite figure out what this motion is trying to tell me (or if he’s just figured out he can touch his hair or something like that), but I started copying him and putting MY arms up in the air. He thought that was hilarious, but when I went in to give him a high five, he just about stopped breathing he was laughing so hard. This continued for FAR longer than the video shows. This morning I asked him for a high five and he could barely touch my hand he was already laughing so hard he was snorting. Who knew that was so funny?! Silly monkey.

Just TRY not to giggle along with him. I dare you.

What was your baby’s first word? When did he or she first say it? I know Owen is a little later than some babies in terms of language, but what can I say, he’s developing like a textbook BOY — motor first, language second!

She Says… 12 Months

My precious son,

You are a year old. One whole year. 12 months. 365 days. Although it seems like it has gone by an in instant, it also kind of feels like a lifetime has gone by since this time last year. On July 24th, 2010 I got to see your sweet face for the first time. Daddy and I had worked so hard to create you, and I thought about you every day when you were growing in my belly, but we didn’t really know you back then. We had a lot of learning to do. We loved you; yes, we loved you so fiercely that simply loving you consumed our lives in those early days. But we didn’t really know you. As a person. Our tiny person.

Now we know you. We know the twinkle in your eye when you are about to toss food off of your high chair. Which you do a lot. And you think it’s hilarious. Here’s a secret: though I try not to show it, I think it’s hilarious too. We know the slow blink you do when you wake up from a nap. The slow blink that turns into a smile that morphs into a grin that often erupts into a giggle as you stand up, toss your lovey over the rail of your crib and then feign sadness. We know the little dance/knee bounce you do when you hear the ABC song. We know the feel of your little fingers in our hands as you toddle faster and faster and farther and farther.

We know the way your hair spikes up, still wet from the bath, and how it is as soft as a little duckling’s feathers when it is dry. We know how mischievous you are and how you love to put dog toys in your mouth even when we tell you not to. We know how you are drawn to anything with buttons. We almost always know what you are pointing at when you gesture with your whole arm and cry, “Uh uh”. We know that you are happiest when you are climbing on something (recently the dog) and listening to music.

We know the sound of your cry and your voice and your breathing. We know the curves of your fingernails and your funny, flat big toenail that is still smooshed from when you were in the womb. We know your big, beautiful, piercing, dancing blue eyes. We know your adorable outie bellybutton with the criss-cross creases that slowly emerged once your umbilical cord closed up. We know every tooth as it pushes its way through your gums and makes you cranky with pain.

We know that you love drinking your bottles. You tip your head back and rest it on my shoulder as you gaze up at me, still playing gently with my curls like you did when you were a tiny baby. Now your motor skills are so fine that you can hold a single hair. You pat my cheeks and tickle my knee and sometimes kick your legs absentmindedly. We cuddle. You love to cuddle, but only when drinking your bottle. After that, you are off and running. We know your sweet, sensitive, quiet side. We know you.

But you know what the most amazing thing is? There’s still so much about you that we don’t know. We don’t know what your first word will be (beyond “Dada”, which you are beginning to use appropriately for Daddy, and “Duh” for dog). We don’t know what your favorite subject in school will be. We don’t know what style you will have. We don’t know what words you will write or music you will make or sports you will play. We don’t know when you’ll fall in love or who you’ll fall in love with. We don’t know what you’ll choose to do with your life or what you’ll remember about your childhood. We don’t know what type of a man you will be or what career you will choose. We don’t know what you’ll be passionate about.

I am so in awe of you already. I can’t imagine how that love will grow and multiply as I get to know the person you will become. You have an amazing personality bottled up in that tiny body of yours, and I am so excited to watch it unfold.

I hope your eyes always dance the way they do now. You light up with joy and approach life with an open-mouthed grin. I love that about you. You are confident and social and determined. You are independent and curious, but you always keep an eye on me to make sure I am by your side. I am. I always will be.

Even though you don’t have the words to tell me what you are thinking yet, we have such a strong bond that I always kind of know. I know that will change over the years, but I hope that you always know that I want to know. I want to know you forever. I know for sure that I will love you forever.

I love you, my little 1 year old. I don’t know how you got so big so fast. It is exhilarating to watch you grow beyond the reach of my arms. By far the most challenging and most rewarding thing I’ve ever done. You stretch me. You amaze me. You make me a better version of myself.

All my love (and then some),
Mama

Wanna see? Daddy put together a video of our birthday weekend celebration.

She Says… Waaaaaah

Remember this? This was me one year ago today. Buying our new car just days before Owen was going to pop out. And pop he did. Oh man was I gigantic! And swollen!

And then this happened. And all of a sudden our little family grew.

And Owen arrived. And my heart grew even bigger than I ever imagined was possible. And, thankfully, my stomach STOPPED growing. Because really, it was getting a little ridiculous.

And then something weird happened. Time started to distort.

During those first few days and weeks, time seemed to stop. I didn’t answer emails or phone calls. I was totally and completely wrapped up in my own little world. It took me 5 minutes to change a diaper, carefully wiping around that weird little umbilical cord stump. I agonized over how to wrap swaddle blankets and if Owen should have socks on and if he was getting enough to eat. Tears ran down my cheeks as I tried and tried and tried to breastfeed but there were just too many issues to contend with. I beamed with pride at the little miracle… the tiny person I had just brought into the world. I gasped and clapped and celebrated every movement he made, every stretch of his fingers and little milestone he reached.

A few months later as I got the hang of the whole mom thing and went back to work, time started flying. ZOOMING by. The milestones began coming a mile a minute. He can sit unpropped! He can roll over! He can roll over both ways! He’s eating solids! He can pull up to a stand! He can babble! He can drink from a sippy cup! He’s feeding himself! He took a step! He took five steps! He’s WALKING!

These days, if I close my eyes even for a second, he is off and toddling. He is climbing and twirling and eating and exploring. He babbles and parrots sounds I make and does some sign language. He understands concepts like “in” and “out”, “open” and “closed”. He can understand sentences like “Give the ball to the doggie” (that particlar one is usually combined with, “No! Don’t eat that! Yucky! That’s a DOGGIE BALL. DOG. BALL.”). Or “Can you put the toy IN the basket?”. It is astonishing to talk to him and feel like, all of a sudden, he knows what I’m saying. And it means something to him.

So today marks the beginning of the weekend-long celebration of Owen’s first year. Yes, we had to reschedule his party, because no one was around, but we still have an awesome weekend planned. And there will be cake. Oh yes, there will be cake. It’s got me thinking a lot about what was happening this time last year. I’ve never in my life felt so overwhelmed by how much changed in a year. Waaaaaaaah! Mama’s feeling sentimental!

Owen will have been outside of my body for 365 days on Sunday. That’s a lot of days. HE WILL BE 1 WHOLE YEAR OLD. In the shortest year of my life, he has transformed from a helpless, wriggly newborn into a rambunctious, hilarious toddler. Wow. That’s a lot to celebrate.

She Says… Couch Potato

Owen is obsessed with all things technology-related. Phones. Remotes. Power cords. Light switches. Night lights plugged into the wall. Heck, anything plugged into the wall. Outlets. Computers. iPods. He wants to touch them, explore them, eat them. Mainly just eat them.

And then there’s this.

Kind of the king of all things that light up and make noise, right? Well, not to Owen. He has almost never seen the thing on. And I like it that way.

But given the bouts that we’ve had with Owen’s scary asthmatic breathing in the past when he’s been sick, we’re trying to follow the doctor’s orders and give him this preventative breathing treatment once a day. It’s only about 8-10 minutes, but imagine trying to hold a hurricane in your arms for 2 minutes. Let alone 10. It’s… trying. On all of us. And the ONE THING that makes it bearable is the tv. Brightly colored cartoons and Sesame Street-style music hold his attention for at least 2 out of the 10 minutes. Especially since he doesn’t even see that amazing thing on at any other point during the day. And that’s 2 minutes that I don’t have to be singing/bouncing/holding the mask/holding down his hands.

For awhile we only gave him the “emergency” albuterol treatments when he was so sick that his wheezing was audible or when the doctor said we should. Now that we have been through those episodes a few times, we know exactly what they look like and sound like, and I know when to give him the albuterol without the doctor even having to see him. In addition to those treatments, the doctor suggested that we add the daily preventative treatment with a different medicine in it. To be honest we gave up on that pretty quickly. It’s one thing to give it to him when he’s sick; quite another to try to pin him down when he’s perfectly healthy. It’s hard to stop your rambunctious, happy toddler from playing and walking and exploring and try to stick a mask on his face and hold his hands down so he doesn’t pull it off. We reserve those fights for when he really, really needs it.

Now before you get all “what a bad mother, she’s not giving her son his medicine” on me, please note: since he’s so little and can’t do some of the diagnostic tests for asthma, no one is really convinced that he actually NEEDS this daily treatment. It’s possible the asthmatic breathing only happens when he’s sick (though you all know how much he’s been sick in the last 6 months!). So that makes it even harder to commit to giving it to him daily. I’m not entirely convinced he needs it. I mean really. He is the most active little toddler I’ve ever seen. He never stops moving. His breathing is fine.

But there is a part of me that doubts my own intuition on this one. What do I know about asthma? I don’t have it. I don’t know what it feels like. And I don’t even know what Owen is feeling, exactly, so I don’t want to be making a decision about his health without the proper medical information.

So since the last episode of asthmatic breathing that required albuterol treatments, we’ve been doing our best to give the daily treatments. For 8-10 minutes at some point after dinner and before bedtime, we, Owen, Benjamin and I, sit on the couch and try to make a nebulizer treatment fun.

This is a nebulizer. Ours has a tiny little mask with a fish face on it that is supposed to make it fun. Owen doesn’t care.

So we pour medicine mixed with saline into the the blue and white canister, attach it to the tube which connects to the nebulizer, and turn it on. The loud motor pushes air through the tube, which then turns the liquid medicine into mist, and it’s blown into Owen’s nose and mouth through the mask.

The main problem is the mask. Owen won’t tolerate it being held onto his face with the elastic band provided, so we took the band off and I just hold it against his face. Then he tries to chew the corners and rip it down and throw it on the floor, which sometimes results in me spilling the medicine and getting incredibly frustrated. So our recent plan of attack is to have Benjamin hold Owen on his lap, turn on something cartoony and musical on the tv, and bounce his legs and play with his hands while I play defense and try to keep the mask against his face.

I’ve realized two very important things:
1. MUSIC is very important. If there is a period of talking on tv, he gets totally bored and begins pulling at the mask again.
2. MOVEMENT is very important. We have to bounce his legs and dance his hands. The second we stop, the pulling and squirming ensues.

When we have the magic combo of music and movement, he’s mesmerized and forgets all about the mask. The TV is a huge help in getting to that glazed over look we’re going for. But since we’re trying to do this every night, we’re realizing quickly that there is NOT always (ever?) a good baby-friendly cartoon on tv.  I’m not up on my cartoons these days, so I don’t even know what to Tivo. I’m thinking investing in a dvd or two would be our best bet.

Do you let your child(ren) watch tv? What are their favorite shows? Do you know of any mostly musical cartoons that Owen might enjoy?

She Says… Lovey Wars

Remember this post about how much Owen loves his lovey? It’s funny, for so long I was putting lovey in his crib every night without really knowing if Owen cared about it at all, or if it was really offering any sort of comfort or soothing. Last weekend confirmed it: Owen totally loves his lovey.

When I was working long days and late nights last week, I missed putting Owen to bed for a few days in a row. Prior to this, I have “done bedtime” almost every night for his entire existence, save for the few random nights that I had a commitment (so Benjamin did it) or we got a babysitter (which I can STILL count on one hand – I know, I know, we need to get out more!). While I know it’s dangerous to set up a precendent that only one person does bedtime, I am the one who is home 99% of the time, and to be honest, I adore it. I snuggle my nose into his soft, clean hair, still damp from the bath. I rock gently and sing lullabies and murmur how much I love him into his ear. I massage his little feet and gaze at his tiny toes while he sleepily drinks his bottle. When he finishes his bottle I stand and rock him some more and sing while he pats my face and twirls my hair. Then I lay him down, hand him his lovey, give the sign language for “sleep”, and say goodnight.

9 times out of 10, I don’t hear a peep when I shut his door. Sometimes he babbles a bit as he puts himself to sleep (we always joke that he’s telling lovey all about his day), but I haven’t heard crying for ages. But last week, after I missed a few bedtimes, something new happened.

The Lovey Wars began.

It all started during a nap time on the first full day I was home after my long work week was over. We did our nap routine and I turned to walk out of the room. As I glanced back at him before shutting the door, I saw him standing in his crib, dangling lovey precariously over the top rail. Looking at me intently, as if to say, “Oh I’ll do it. Don’t leave, or I’ll do it. I’ll drop him.” With a mischievous little grin on his face. I shut the door as normal, to see what would happen. SECONDS later, I hear a loud, and I mean LOUD, wail. Huge crocodile tears too. I went back in immediately because my hand was still on the doorknob and I knew exactly what had happened. But instead of reaching for lovey as I expected, he was crying and reaching his little arms up for ME.

He tricked me.

Lovey was on the floor, but it seemed so intentional that I didn’t know how to react. I handed him his lovey, which seemed to satisfy him for a moment, and then I laid him back down in his crib and left the room again. Crying ensued.

A minute later, the same loud “lovey is on the floor” wail.

I went back in again, thinking maybe he was trying to tell me something that I wasn’t getting. Maybe he was uncomfortable or teething again or had a fever. Maybe he was too hot or too cold or his clothing was too tight. I picked him up and held his head against mine to see what I could deduce. And then I realized it. He had tricked me again. And it worked.

I decided that I needed to have a consistent response to the lovey throwing in order to get through this stage (because everything is a stage, right? RIGHT?!) without regressing into bad sleep habits. So I left the room one more time and tried really hard not to listen to the crying that ensued. Finally Benjamin went up there, handed lovey back to him, and left the room. Silence. I think he wore himself out.

We made a plan: no more retrieving lovey. It’s not that I thought he was manipulating us… I think he was doing exactly what a baby his age should be doing. Testing a theory. If I throw lovey, and then cry, mom will come in and bring it back. Score! And it worked, the first few times. But I was hellbent on this NOT becoming a new fun game. So our lovely and relaxing weekend was peppered by total lovey extinction. Also known as “learn to live with the consequences of your actions”, the toddler version. If he threw lovey (and throw lovey he did), we were not going to come in and give him back. He’d have to fall asleep without lovey.

Sniff, sniff. It just about killed me thinking of him alone in his crib without lovey!

But you know what? It took him 10 minutes to cry himself to sleep for the first nap. Then 7 minutes. Then less and less. And the lovey throwing stopped after less than 2 days. And now we’re back to happy (and long!) sleeping. Hallelujah.

Thank goodness that was a short phase.

What phases have you gone through around this age? What did you do to fight against them, or embrace them?

She Says… Done and Done

We did just what I said I wanted to do this past weekend.

Strolled through the farmer’s market that is practically right outside the door of our new house…

(Owen’s new favorite thing is getting out of his stroller and pushing it)

 

made a yummy dinner with our farmer’s market haul…

went to the pool…

and generally soaked up time with each other.

Glorious.

How was your weekend?