She swang on a swing. She swunged. She rode a swing that was moving. Whatever. Quit being so smug and look at the pictures.
She also got to sit in grass for the first time.
Eventually she got really tired of me taking her picture.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Weekend Adventures
This weekend, Nora and I went to a birthday party for our friend Quinn, who turned 2. Since it was at a park, Nora got to try a couple of things she'd never done before.
She also got to sit in grass for the first time.
Eventually she got really tired of me taking her picture.
She also got to sit in grass for the first time.
Eventually she got really tired of me taking her picture.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Bedtime Musings.
Remember being a little kid and getting scared or lonely in the middle of the night, and how good-- almost miraculous-- it felt when your mom came in to sit with you or help you get over a bad dream? How strange and wonderful it is to now be the mom in that equation.
Nora is normally reliable about sleeping through the night without a peep, but tonight when I put her down in her crib she suddenly became brightly alert and just wanted to roll and scoot around, looking at all her toys. When she became enthralled by her Ugli doll, I took the opportunity to sneak downstairs to my pizza dinner. About five minutes later, Nora started to cry, so-- after trying to act tough and ignoring her for about 30 seconds-- I went upstairs and picked her up.
I sang a couple of songs to her (our usual set is "Blackbird" and "I Will" by the Beatles, and "Stay Awake" and "Somewhere Out There," both Disney songs), and then I set her back in her crib and gave her her pacifier. She was still awake, but after a little extra Mommy time she slipped easily into sleep.
It's times like these that I realize I really do feel like a mom now. I can't pinpoint the moment when having my own daughter went from surreal to normal, but these instances where I know I can comfort her, maybe in a way that nobody else could-- well, it's just pretty incredible, that's all.
Nora is normally reliable about sleeping through the night without a peep, but tonight when I put her down in her crib she suddenly became brightly alert and just wanted to roll and scoot around, looking at all her toys. When she became enthralled by her Ugli doll, I took the opportunity to sneak downstairs to my pizza dinner. About five minutes later, Nora started to cry, so-- after trying to act tough and ignoring her for about 30 seconds-- I went upstairs and picked her up.
I sang a couple of songs to her (our usual set is "Blackbird" and "I Will" by the Beatles, and "Stay Awake" and "Somewhere Out There," both Disney songs), and then I set her back in her crib and gave her her pacifier. She was still awake, but after a little extra Mommy time she slipped easily into sleep.
It's times like these that I realize I really do feel like a mom now. I can't pinpoint the moment when having my own daughter went from surreal to normal, but these instances where I know I can comfort her, maybe in a way that nobody else could-- well, it's just pretty incredible, that's all.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Going Mobile!
This headline is a slight exaggeration, but today my little girl figured out that if she topples over from a seated position and then kind of levers her hips, she ends up on her belly. And from there, if she's industrious, she can scoot backwards in seemingly aimless circles. But if she keeps at it, she ends up where she wants to go.
Unless she gets stuck under her crib, which she briefly was today, reminding me of a hamster or some other reclusive family pet.
She can also get her whole torso up off the ground. I won't go so far as to say she's on her hands and knees, but she's almost there. I think she was just so happy about pooping after three days of constipation that she felt much lighter. (Lesson learned: when you introduce bananas, don't just give your baby banana after banana for days on end, no matter how much she loves them.)
I guess we need to start thinking about childproofing. Hoo boy.
Unless she gets stuck under her crib, which she briefly was today, reminding me of a hamster or some other reclusive family pet.
She can also get her whole torso up off the ground. I won't go so far as to say she's on her hands and knees, but she's almost there. I think she was just so happy about pooping after three days of constipation that she felt much lighter. (Lesson learned: when you introduce bananas, don't just give your baby banana after banana for days on end, no matter how much she loves them.)
I guess we need to start thinking about childproofing. Hoo boy.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Note to My Pregnant Self
Here are some things I wish I had known when I was pregnant and newly not-pregnant. I've learned so much in the last five months that I can't resist unloading advice and information on pregnant friends and relatives, which I suspect is a little tiring. So I'm thinking if I write it here, maybe I won't be so tempted to follow pregnant women around lecturing them.
1) Nap like it's your job.
Ok, I didn't need anyone to tell me this when I was pregnant. I napped on my lunch breaks; I napped after work and then went straight to bed; I napped on weekends while the sun was shining in the window and more able-bodied people were frolicking outside. And I'm glad I did, because the first weeks after Nora was born were demoralizingly exhausting, and it was nice to have the memory of lazy, luxurious, sun-dappled naps to sustain me.
2) Organize whatever you can before the baby comes.
I'm sure there are wonderful toys and adorable outfits we never even used because they weren't someplace I could easily access with a baby in my arms.
3) Read up on baby care before the baby comes.
I educated myself like crazy about pregnancy, but I forgot to read anything about caring for an actual infant. And then when Nora was born, I didn't have time to read anything, so I pretty much winged it.
4) Everything gets better. And I mean much better.
The first month or so of new babyhood is hard on everybody. You're not sleeping (see above), you're not sure what you're doing, your body doesn't feel very good, and you're pumped full of crazy hormones. You spend all day focusing on the baby, who doesn't seem to notice you. You're frantically trying to figure out breastfeeding (see below), and your house is falling to pieces around you because you can' t seem to do any cleaning at all. You're up all hours of the day and night. Well-meaning visitors show up unannounced to your dirty house and your crying baby and interrupt whatever schedule you're trying to establish. This is actually a hazing ritual for new moms. Give it 6 weeks and it'll be a whole 'nother universe. Your baby will start smiling at you, your body and hormones will be slightly more normal, you will have learned how to eke out enough sleep to stay alive. Your house, however, will still be filthy, and it always will be.
5) Breastfeeding is hard!
Anyone who says it doesn't hurt is doing it wrong, in my opinion. It's a bizarre interaction that's natural, sure, but that doesn't mean it comes easily to you or the baby. The message I wish I had gotten five months ago is that it's normal for it to be difficult, and that it can take many weeks and help from a variety of friends and professionals before it all clicks. (If it literally clicks, you're doing it wrong.) It's worth sticking it out, as it were.
5b) Also, not all lactation consultants are very helpful.
The ones at the hospital strongly encouraged me to put Nora on formula almost right away, which I did; looking back on it with a little more education, I wish I had resisted that advice and tried longer before supplementing with formula. The hospital LCs have to balance the greater good and liability for the hospital with your individual need, so they want to make sure your baby gets fed right away, one way or the other. We did eventually get back to breastfeeding, but introducing the bottle so early did make it more difficult. If anybody in Cincinnati is looking for a great and very patient lactation consultant who doesn't get weirded out if you cry in front of her, see Dr. Ridder at Children's Hospital's breastfeeding clinic. She's like a breastfeeding detective. Which generates an odd mental image.
6) Sometimes, babies just cry.
Sometimes, you do everything you can humanly think of to stop your baby from crying, and it just keeps wailing. It's a good lesson in not being able to control everything. Sometimes, the best you can do is to hold her and let her know you'll always be there when she's unhappy. In most cases, that's not a cause-and-effect thing.
7) You're probably doing just fine.
I believe my pediatrician told me this, and it gives me great comfort: There are lots of right ways to take care of a baby, as long as you love it and feed it, and very few ways to really get it wrong. So try to relax and trust yourself.
I'd love to hear from other moms what lessons they have to hold back from inflicting on pregnant women. What do you wish you had known way back when?
1) Nap like it's your job.
Ok, I didn't need anyone to tell me this when I was pregnant. I napped on my lunch breaks; I napped after work and then went straight to bed; I napped on weekends while the sun was shining in the window and more able-bodied people were frolicking outside. And I'm glad I did, because the first weeks after Nora was born were demoralizingly exhausting, and it was nice to have the memory of lazy, luxurious, sun-dappled naps to sustain me.
2) Organize whatever you can before the baby comes.
I'm sure there are wonderful toys and adorable outfits we never even used because they weren't someplace I could easily access with a baby in my arms.
3) Read up on baby care before the baby comes.
I educated myself like crazy about pregnancy, but I forgot to read anything about caring for an actual infant. And then when Nora was born, I didn't have time to read anything, so I pretty much winged it.
4) Everything gets better. And I mean much better.
The first month or so of new babyhood is hard on everybody. You're not sleeping (see above), you're not sure what you're doing, your body doesn't feel very good, and you're pumped full of crazy hormones. You spend all day focusing on the baby, who doesn't seem to notice you. You're frantically trying to figure out breastfeeding (see below), and your house is falling to pieces around you because you can' t seem to do any cleaning at all. You're up all hours of the day and night. Well-meaning visitors show up unannounced to your dirty house and your crying baby and interrupt whatever schedule you're trying to establish. This is actually a hazing ritual for new moms. Give it 6 weeks and it'll be a whole 'nother universe. Your baby will start smiling at you, your body and hormones will be slightly more normal, you will have learned how to eke out enough sleep to stay alive. Your house, however, will still be filthy, and it always will be.
5) Breastfeeding is hard!
Anyone who says it doesn't hurt is doing it wrong, in my opinion. It's a bizarre interaction that's natural, sure, but that doesn't mean it comes easily to you or the baby. The message I wish I had gotten five months ago is that it's normal for it to be difficult, and that it can take many weeks and help from a variety of friends and professionals before it all clicks. (If it literally clicks, you're doing it wrong.) It's worth sticking it out, as it were.
5b) Also, not all lactation consultants are very helpful.
The ones at the hospital strongly encouraged me to put Nora on formula almost right away, which I did; looking back on it with a little more education, I wish I had resisted that advice and tried longer before supplementing with formula. The hospital LCs have to balance the greater good and liability for the hospital with your individual need, so they want to make sure your baby gets fed right away, one way or the other. We did eventually get back to breastfeeding, but introducing the bottle so early did make it more difficult. If anybody in Cincinnati is looking for a great and very patient lactation consultant who doesn't get weirded out if you cry in front of her, see Dr. Ridder at Children's Hospital's breastfeeding clinic. She's like a breastfeeding detective. Which generates an odd mental image.
6) Sometimes, babies just cry.
Sometimes, you do everything you can humanly think of to stop your baby from crying, and it just keeps wailing. It's a good lesson in not being able to control everything. Sometimes, the best you can do is to hold her and let her know you'll always be there when she's unhappy. In most cases, that's not a cause-and-effect thing.
7) You're probably doing just fine.
I believe my pediatrician told me this, and it gives me great comfort: There are lots of right ways to take care of a baby, as long as you love it and feed it, and very few ways to really get it wrong. So try to relax and trust yourself.
I'd love to hear from other moms what lessons they have to hold back from inflicting on pregnant women. What do you wish you had known way back when?
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Nora Puts the "Nip" in "Nipple"
Who knew one tooth could do so much damage? Nora has one little puppy-sharp tooth protruding from her lower gums, and she's working on getting the one next to it to pop through the skin. It must feel good to clamp down on something, so she has been experimenting with biting me while nursing. Or maybe, in keeping with the season, she just thinks I'm a Peep.
Everything I know about parenting, I learned at the animal shelter. So I've been reacting to Nora's bites the way you're supposed to respond to mouthy puppies: Every time I feel her teeth start to make contact, I let out a quick, loud shriek. It's supposed to alarm the puppy/baby and make them stop what they're doing. And it works, to a point. Nora stops, looks up at me with big, worried eyes, and then a delighted smile steals across her face-- like she's just gotten the punchline to a very clever joke. Uh-oh. I didn't mean to make a game of it.
We've had a few shriek-free days now. Wish me luck that they continue. I do think this is the very essence of motherhood: Someone bites you-- on the nipple, for god's sake-- and you immediately put that poor old nip right back into their mouth.
Everything I know about parenting, I learned at the animal shelter. So I've been reacting to Nora's bites the way you're supposed to respond to mouthy puppies: Every time I feel her teeth start to make contact, I let out a quick, loud shriek. It's supposed to alarm the puppy/baby and make them stop what they're doing. And it works, to a point. Nora stops, looks up at me with big, worried eyes, and then a delighted smile steals across her face-- like she's just gotten the punchline to a very clever joke. Uh-oh. I didn't mean to make a game of it.
We've had a few shriek-free days now. Wish me luck that they continue. I do think this is the very essence of motherhood: Someone bites you-- on the nipple, for god's sake-- and you immediately put that poor old nip right back into their mouth.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
