Get Up, Stand Up
I think I spend about 10 hours of the 12.5 hours of Tucker’s waking day donating my pointer fingers to Tucker so that he can hold himself up in the standing position. The only times during the day he is not up on his feet is when he is eating (and strapped into a high chair, otherwise I’m sure he would happily mow down in the upright position) and napping, although even this is up for debate. I went into his room during naptime to check on him the other day and he was standing up in his crib, smiling, of course. First thought, wow…didn’t even know you had figured out how to do that yet. Thought two, how long have you been standing there? did you sleep at all? It’s exhausting I tell you, all this finger giving and I’m not even the one standing…I’m often sitting the whole time. I tell you, when he goes down for his nap, I guess I should say, when he is put in his crib to supposedly nap, I feel like joining him.
My husband wants to make a little stand in order to give our fingers a break. I think it’s a great idea, and as he gets older we can put wheels on it so he can mozy around on his own. At this rate, I’m going to have Popeye Pointers on each hand. I’ll just be able to point at things to make them move, that’s how strong they will be. And, then my ego gets knocked back into place when my finger accidentally finds itself in Tucker’s mouth on the receiving end of Tucker’s two bottom teeth. Holy crap, those things are sharp…no more super-powered fingers, just back to regular old mommy-hands whose only use is keeping my son on his two feet.
It’s all worth it to see the look on his face as he rises up. He just beams, starts laughing and blowing spit bubbles. Fingers are just the most convenient thing for him to hold on to, but he is definitely not picky. He will hold onto chairs, bureau drawers, toys, the bathtub (which makes for a fun game all of its own, especially when he is in it), legs, pants, beds and basically whatever he can get his hands on. And he pulls himself right up. Once he has a strong hold he works his way up, not just to standing, but off the ground. He climbs. I have this feeling that I will one day walk into our family room and he will be hanging from the top shelf of the bookcase unable to go up any further, yet not quite certain how to get down either.
Now that he has been finger-surfing for a couple of weeks, he is becoming very brave, letting go with one hand, spinning around and grabbing a chair or a toy, squatting down to pick things up, or trying to climb on top of whatever object is holding him up. On the flip side of this, he is getting a little cocky and going rollercoaster style, both hands in the air. Inevitably, he topples, knocking down toys and falling to the ground. He doesn’t quite have that whole balance thing down yet. Even after crashing down, he looks up, puts out his hands and once again reaches for the two fingers that await his grasp. Up we go!
Healthy. Happy. Loved.
PS The other day I was getting ready for work and I put my shoes on. On top of my left shoe was a splat of dry baby puke, which is not surprising as I oftentimes find these spots in various places all over me throughout the day. However, when I got home and took my shoes off, I noticed that the baby puke was still there. I never wiped it off! What is happening? I used to watch those make-over shows on TV where the moms are nominated by their husbands to get a new wardrobe and hairdo…”My wife used to dress so cute, but since we’ve had the baby all she ever wears is sweat pants and my old t-shirts.” Well, I could never understand these women. Why would you walk around in your husband’s clothes, it looks terrible. Oh, yeah Suzanne, but baby puke is all the rage.
Get Up, Stand Up!
New Shades- Head is too big for the other ones.
Bulldozer
One of the most satisfying parts of being a parent is the opportunity to witness firsthand your child figuring things out on his own. It is such an intriguing process to watch. Sometimes it takes seconds or minutes for the light bulb to turn on over his head while other times it takes days, weeks or even months for things to finally click. But when they do it is such a proud moment. This learning process has never been more obvious to me than in recent weeks as Tucker is attempting with all his might to become mobile on his own. I say mobile because what he is doing is not quite yet crawling and to be honest if he were to have his way he would skip right over the whole event of crawling and even walking, and go straight to running if he could. But, thank God he can’t, so back to the process.
What has been so cool in watching him over the past few weeks is the trial and error he has been going through to get him to the stage he is at today. The first step, which happened weeks ago, was the ability to get himself over onto his stomach. Accomplished, although it did take some time for him to learn how to build up the momentum to push his way over that right shoulder and then get his arm out from underneath his body to avoid the many face plants he experienced along the way. Like I said trial and error.
Once his rolling became proficient, then came the building of arm strength so he could hold his head and body weight up with his arms. He used to get onto his belly and just drop his head onto the ground (face-down mind you) in utter defeat. He would moan and groan into the floor just long enough to scare the crap out of me and make me think he couldn’t get his head up and would suffocate. So that I would run over to grab him and just as I would go to upright him, he would lift his head up, look at me and smile. Only 5 months old at this point and already getting me to do his bidding.
It was right around this point that he started doing his seal wiggle. With belly down and both arms and legs in the air (he must have picked up that pose from me doing yoga during the whole pregnancy, it’s the only explanation) he would fling his arms to one side and legs to the other and squirm like a seal around the ground, not getting very far and becoming extremely discouraged. I would try and bend his knees under his belly at this point to show him the correct positioning, but he would only land on his face and wail, so I decided to stop doing that.
My next brilliant thought was to model crawling for him myself. So, whenever I was playing with him on the floor I would be sure to crawl around on my hands and knees to ensure that he was at least exposed to the proper technique. All I got in return was more seal.
Brilliant idea number three popped into my head when dog walked through the room. Aha! Tucker, watch the dog. He’s on all fours, see if you can copy him. As Tucker is enamored with the pup I thought this would be the perfect solution. And it worked, possibly coincidence, but I truly give Madden all the credit for sauntering about the house for Tucker to see. After days of dog modeling ,Tucker too began walking on all fours. Alright, maybe not a crawl and maybe walking is a bit of a stretch. But, he would get himself up on his hands and feet, butt straight up in the air. Then when he wanted to move, he would place his head on the ground, arms at his side and push with the soles of his feet full steam ahead. He looked like a bulldozer. Again trial and error. He realized quickly the error in this method as he only did it for about two days.
Over the past couple of days I’ve been watching the wheels turning as things suddenly start to make sense to him. First one knee comes up with the hands on the floor. The next day both knees come up but the head drops down. Then he gets both knees up with both hands down in perfect crawl formation, although with no clue as to where to go from here. Today, for the first time we got hands and knees and rocking back and forth. When this kid starts to move, it is going to blow his mind!
I think it’s going to blow my mind too. We haven’t even begun to childproof the house…we are going to be totally screwed.
Healthy. Happy. Loved.
Bad Backcountry Mama…
Tucker and I went on our first official hike together last weekend with a good friend and her almost one-year-old son. The day couldn’t have been more beautiful, 70s or maybe even 80s out, blue skies and no snow! It was the perfect day to get out and cruise around. I was really excited to get going because this was the first time that I would be wearing Tucker on my back rather than on the front in his carrier. Let me tell you what an amazing milestone this flip is. It so much more comfortable and feels like wearing a backpack rather than being 8 months pregnant again. I no longer have to hold his head every time I bend over, my back automatically takes care of that for me. It is better all around. The tricky part is getting him into the carrier on my back by myself. My friend has become quite the expert at this technique and gave me some wonderful pointers and helped me with Tucker the first time. I tried to do it myself later in the day because a little practice never hurt anyone. All I have to say is it’s a good thing that I was practicing over the bed!
Anyway, once the little guys were secured we began our two-hour hike. Everything was going really. Tucker was enjoying himself and talking up a storm. Then, about halfway through, his talk turned into a literal storm and he started to get a little cranky. As this is pretty unusual for him especially when being held and moving, I knew that he must be uncomfortable. So we decided to stop and let the boys stretch out a bit and play around on the ground for a while. As I pulled Tucker out of the carrier, I noticed the all too familiar scent of recycled milk and pears. And sure enough, the visual evidence was there, all over his back, to validate my nose. Mind you we are an hour in to our two hour hike at this point.
I looked at my friend and said, “Oh my God, I don’t have a diaper.” “I do,” she said. “I don’t have wipes.” “I do,” she said. “I don’t have a change of clothes.” That she couldn’t help me with. Please note that I did have all of the above in the car, I just didn’t think to bring any of it with me. It never even crossed my mind. What did I feel was important enough to bring? My cell phone and a camera (so yes, we have a visual record)…hey city girl. Oh, I and also brought along a sun hat for Tucker because I didn’t want him to get burned. It came in very handy along the shady tree-covered trails of the forest.
If I thought changing a diaper at home was becoming more challenging, I realize that I have had nothing to actually complain about. Changing a diaper on the forest floor, now that is challenging. I pulled off my carrier to use as a changing pad to absolutely no avail because Tucker was way too enthralled with the pine needles, rocks, dirt, branches, twigs, pinecones and whatever else he could get his hands on to stay still enough to stay on the carrier. Granted this was his first experience on the ground in the woods. So, here he is half-naked rolling over and over covered in dirt while I’m doing my best to re-diaper him while at the same time trying to keep the forest floor out of his mouth. My friend eventually had to come over and hold his arms down so that I could get the diaper on him. At least he was happy. Once re-diapered, I had to put him back in the same onesie he had been wearing. I know, I know, but it wasn’t that bad, there was really only one spot low on his back that was a little questionable and it was low enough so the diaper sat between it and his skin until we got back to the car and I was able to change his clothes like a good mother.
Since the little guys were already out and moving around, we thought this an obvious time to have a little snack to tide us over for the rest of the hike. My friend pulls out a banana and bread, and unclips a sippy-cup filled with water from her child carrier and starts feeding her son. I just looked on in utter disbelief of myself…”I didn’t bring any food.” Alas, it too was still in the car. Maybe next time I should consider going for an afternoon drive instead. Once again, friend to the rescue…”You can give Tucker some of this banana.” With no spoon, I was back to “Feeding Tucker 101″ smushing the banana in between my fingers first and finger-feeding him. What a treat for both of us.
One poopy back and three sticky fingers later we were once again on our way. The rest of the hike proved relatively uneventful and both boys crashed out. Before Tucker fell asleep, I tried to point out as much as I could to him showing him the trees and water and I told him to listen to the birds. I’m sure he had no clue what I was talking about, but getting him outside for the afternoon with his friend was really fun. And, at least I now know what to bring along for next time. Everything I do these days is a learning experience.
When we got back to the car there were a bunch of mountain bikers who had just returned from their rides hanging out at their car drinking beers. All I kept thinking was “Oh my God, I have to get Tucker out of his carrier and into clean clothes before anyone sees what he is wearing so they don’t think I am such a bad mom.” Mission accomplished (I think..no one said anything anyways).
Healthy. Happy. Loved.
PS Tucker has become quite adept at rolling over at this point. He can go from front to back and back to front. He has just started doing this at nighttime while he is sleeping. He always starts on his back but somehow manages, and I have to believe it is in his sleep, to roll over onto his belly(he has always been a big side sleeper). No big deal, except for the fact that I don’t think he realizes that he can sleep on his stomach, nor does he realize that he can just roll himself right back over again. Needless to say, he’s been waking us up once or twice a night for the past couple of nights because he is stuck on his stomach. He screams out, we go in and he’s up on his arms (which I am sure are exhausted from holding him up by the time we get in there, because yes, we sometimes wait to see if he will go back to sleep on his own). So, we roll him back over and he goes right back to sleep. Baby steps.
Buds
See? The hat came in handy on this hike!
Standin' all by myself : )
Next up pears…
At this point in time it appears that Tucker has taken most of his personality traits from his father. He’s very mellow, very happy and seems to just go with the flow. Anyone who values sleep, quiet car rides, smiles and belly laughs would understand the importance of this genetic transfer from my husband’s side, for if he were to have followed in my DNA’s footsteps no one in this house would be sleeping for more than 15 minutes at a time, the car would be used as a sleep aid rather than a transportation device, and smiles and belly laughs although still abundant, would be given only during oodles of attention. This is not to say that Tucker does not take after me in some respects, one in particular that has begun to rear its ugly head as of late. That would be the curse of a “grumpy-when-hungry-picky-eater.”
Over the past six months we have come to learn that when Tucker is hungry, he will let you know. He can be playing happily along enjoying the day, loving the company when all of a sudden it strikes. Hunger. The bottom lip pops out (he has the most brutal pout. One that I am sure will win him many arguments and get him many unneeded snacks and toys, “But I really want it,”…bottom lip, pout, pout. Since he has been doing this since the day he was born, I can tell you it is not put on, not until he learns the true power of it anyway). Anyway, his lip pops out and the howling ensues. God forbid you put him down at this point or you will surely wake the neighbors. Best to hold him until the grub is served.
Remember I said picky too? Well, when the grub is served, best to pay close attention to how you serve it. That’s right, if the temperature isn’t just so, he won’t eat it. We had an unexpected snowstorm last night that dropped close to two feet on our doorstep and in the process knocked out the power for hours. Not a big deal except for the fact that our bottle warmer only works when it is plugged in to a working outlet. Tucker’s morning bottle was therefore a bit cooler than usual and he was not having it. He had a total meltdown, raising his cries to levels that I had not yet heard before. The only way to calm him, heat his bottle, but how? Aha! Our Jetboil, a propane run camp stove…boy does this kid have us wrapped. So there we were, at 6:30 in the morning digging around the basement for our stove with the lovely morning music of ravenous child filling our ears. It worked, warm bottle, happy baby, good morning.
In addition to his bottles, we have started giving him solid foods as well. I don’t really know how much I should be feeding him, how often I should be feeding him or how much he should be eating, so I’m basically just winging it on this end. What I do know is what I should be feeding him so at least I’ve got a foot in the door there. When we first started him on solids, he refused to eat anything that came near his mouth on a spoon. So, we finger fed him for the first couple of weeks. Let me tell you, smushing bananas between your fingers is really not ideal. But, we have been working on this and he is becoming more comfortable with the whole spoon thing. The challenge now is that he wants to put the spoon in his mouth himself, which is pretty pointless since by the time he actually gets it to his mouth the food usually finds itself everywhere but still on the spoon, not to mention the fact that half the time he just wants to chew on the spoon and ends up gagging himself with it. Madden, our dog, is psyched though, it’s like Christmas with all the food that lands on the floor. I should say he is psyched as long as Tucker isn’t eating vegetables that is…he won’t eat those. I once gave Madden a bit of leftover black bean burrito as a treat. He took it, ate the wrap it was in, ate the cheese and all the fixings, and systematically licked each black bean clean of any salsa or guacamole then spit each one back out unharmed onto the floor. When I returned to the kitchen I was welcomed by 18 shiny black beans in the middle of the linoleum. Needless to say, finicky eating runs in the family.
So far, I can’t really tell which foods Tucker likes and which he doesn’t because I’m not even sure if he is swallowing it. He mushes it around on his tongue for a bit, smiles a lot and ends up sending chunks back down his chin. I’ve had to do laundry specifically for bibs…and we have a lot of bibs!
Overall, feeding him solid foods is hysterical. It’s so fun to watch him try new things and see his expressions when a new flavor hits his tongue. My husband and I have both agreed to not feed him anything new unless the other is around to witness it. We are having that much fun with it. So far we have tried rice cereal, bananas and avocados. Next up pears…big week for us all.
Healthy (eating his veggies). Happy (as long as no one is hungry). Loved (okay, I’ll take more time and heat this up for you again while you scream at the top of your lungs).
PS What does it mean when you buy a bottle of wine at the grocery store and pay for it using self check-out. Yet when the message on the machine pops up that you need authorization for this purchase the woman manning the section just approves you from afar and doesn’t feel the need to check ID. Oh…old….I should have bought two bottles.
First time on grass
Happy Baby
April 27-Almost two feet over night
Purple Socks
Tucker’s great-grandmother, my maternal grandmother, passed away last Monday. As she lived in Colorado, Tucker never had the chance to meet her. While I am saddened by that fact, I am very grateful that I have many wonderful memories of her that I can share with him as he gets older.
To begin, my grandmother always, without fail wore a skirt. I never in my life saw the woman wear pants or even shorts. It was always a skirt and it was always accompanied by a white button-down shirt and a sweater vest. She would dress up the outfit with a long necklace or a pin, and top it off with a pair of white socks and Birkenstocks. Her hair was never gray, but rather a reddish brown that she kept very short, and tamed each night by taping, yes taping, down any possible fly-aways or stray cowlicks so she would be ready to go when she woke up in the morning. For 53 years she lived at the same address in Colorado and to this day, whenever I picture that house, a thousand memories flood my mind from all the times I visited.
My brother and I always had a wonderful time with our grandparents be it us visiting Colorado or them coming to Massachusetts. However, there are a couple of memories of my grandmother that stand out far above the rest.
As I lived more than 3,000 miles away from her for most of my life, we have had some interesting ways of staying in touch over the years. I think I was about six years old when the purple socks started arriving. They first came as a Christmas present, and, being a six-year-old little girl, I LOVED them. I loved them so much that I wanted to share the happiness and as part of my thank-you note I sent her a pair of purple socks that she too could wear. This back and forth giving of purple socks lasted for years. It didn’t matter if there was a holiday to celebrate or not, we would just buy each other a pair whenever we happened to come across them in the store and send them off.
Whenever I would go to Colorado to visit, my grandma could always be counted on for having a stockpile of M and Ms that she would keep up in a glass jar in one of the kitchen cabinets. I used to wait until everyone was outside or in another room and then I would climb up onto the counter and sneak myself a handful. My cousin Kelly was always in on the deal too. We thought we were getting away with murder, no way did anyone know this was happening, especially my grandmother. I mean, the empty jar of M and Ms after we left never gave us away. Looking back on it now, I am sure that we were being set up, but back then those were the best tasting secret M and Ms ever.
I found out days before her death that her dream in life was to become a journalist. I never knew that and wish I had much earlier on. It is something that we, although unbeknownst to me, have had in common my whole life. Because of this, I thought it appropriate to write out the memories I have of her, rather than just pass them along to my son by word-of-mouth. So, may you rest in peace my purple sock buying, white sock and Birkenstock wearing, M and M loving, Denver living grandmother. You will be missed.
Healthy, Happy and Loved once again.
PS On a lighter note, I went shopping last week for a baby shower gift and before I even stepped foot into a baby store, I found myself standing in a dressing room trying on clothes for me…hmmm. With the young one in tow this was probably not the best move, and karma for my selfish behavior quickly confirmed that. When I got into the dressing room (this was a small store and the dressing rooms were single rooms separated from the rest of the store by only a 3/4 length door) I sat Tucker down on the floor and began trying on clothes. I had just enough time to de-robe before Tucker tipped over and smacked his head on the floor. He didn’t hit it that hard and he was fine, but it scared the bejesus out of him and he went into full-on howl mode. So, here’s me, in nothing but underwear, holding a screaming baby and knowing that everyone on the other side of the door was groaning and giving me the evil eye. So, once I got everything under control and got myself fit for public viewing, I bought the dress to make me feel better.
PPS Tucker had his first two teeth pop out overnight last week, yes, both on the same night! And, he started scooting around a bit on his own this past weekend. It’s been quite a trip around here the past few days.
My favorite picture to date...
6 Months!
First spin in a swing
A World of Poop
I was aware that I would have to deal with poopy diapers well before Tucker was born. I was also aware that at times these poopy diapers may take on a life of their own and become a bit messy. But, oh my Lord, what my husband and I have been experiencing over the past couple of weeks can only be referred to as explosions. Let me see if I can explain this more clearly to you…EXPLOSIONS! We are talking full-body coverage, no holds barred up the back, around the neck, down the arms poop. Just today, the poop once again weasled its way out of the diaper, down the leg and onto the floor, leaving a clear path of destruction all over the inside pant leg, not to mention completely coating the actual leg itself and drowning the foot with its yellowy goo!
Now, why, you may ask, are you having this issue? The answer is I truly do not know, for if I did, I would do something to fix it. I originally thought that the diapers we were using were just becoming too small. So we switched to the next size up…no dice, poop still eluding the diaper. Then I thought, it usually happens in the morning, maybe he is just pooping a lot overnight and needs to be changed even if he is not waking up…nope, every time we change him in the middle of the night all we find is a wet diaper (often so wet that it weighs more than the baby, but just wet). By the morning…poop explosion. We even switched to overnight diapers to no avail.
So, what’s left but operator error? Are we putting the diapers on wrong? too tight? too loose? not pulled up high enough in the back? Probably, probably, maybe and probably. It really doesn’t help the matter when in the middle of carefully extracting the dirty diaper from beneath the small child, said child sticks feet in the poopy diaper and then tries to put them in his mouth. After quickly putting the kabosh on that stunt, comes the situating of a new diaper where once again said child proves challenging as he rolls over, grabs his feet some more, grabs and pulls the diaper, and basically makes it impossible to get anything centered, in place or on correctly. It’s like trying to catch an oiled pig. So, yes, mommy and daddy failure is a definite possibility here.
We started noticing this extra poop when we began supplementing with a little formula here and there, rather than giving him only breastmilk. So not only is there more poop now, there is more smell to accompany it. Maybe it’s just coincidence with the formula, but I don’t think so. It makes me look so forward to poop after we start him on solids (which by the way we have tried a couple of times with no real success. I guess the only other solid he has had in his mouth is a poopy foot, who can blame him?).
I guess I just need to stand back and accept that my son is a true pooping machine. I just need to do more laundry and move on. On the flip side of that is my amazed husband…what is it with guys and poop? If Tucker were older he could easily be the kid that calls everyone in to look at his poop that wraps all the way around the toilet. He would win any pooping contest hands-down. What a proud moment for mom.
Healthy (especially his digestive track). Happy (who isn’t after taking a big poop?). Loved (absolutely, poopy or not).
PS I got a voicemail last week from my husband who was on daddy daycare for the day. In it he referred to himself as my Domesticated Male Servant. When I got home from work he had vacuumed the house, gotten Tucker ready for bed and had made us dinner. I so love having a male servant!
PICS OF THE WEEK:
Sitting up by myself!
Taking a break...
Food for the first time
Not sure I like this
Some thoughts on being a mom…
I pretty much stopped blogging when Tucker was first born. I was exhausted, there wasn’t time, whatever excuse I could come up with that would make me feel better about not writing is what I used. However, I did journal. I had forgotten that I had done this for the first few weeks of Tucker’s life until I went to write in my journal for the first time in months last night and saw my previous entries. They made me laugh out loud and I cannot tell you how happy I am that I have been keeping track of my feelings (good or bad), be it by blogging or journaling. I had already forgotten half of the insanity my life was in the weeks after bringing a new baby home for the first time. So, I thought I would share with you some of the thoughts that I wrote about and promptly forgot:
~Today was the first time that one of the nurses came and took Tucker out of the room and away from me. I hated her. And then I freaked out…what if she didn’t come back? what if she brought back the wrong baby?
~I can’t believe they just give you the baby and let you go home with him. I don’t even know how to hold him.
~Is it wrong to be jealous of your sound asleep one-month-old child cuddled up in a warm, soft blanket? I really want that to be me.
~I am now wearing the same clothes that I wore when I was very first pregnant with Tucker, except then I was trying to show off my growing belly and hoping that people would notice the weight gain, and no one ever did. Now, I am trying my best to hide this big post-baby belly and no matter what I do it sticks out like a sore thumb.
~I saw tears in Tucker’s eyes for the first time today. He was crying so hard he had tears. It made me cry.
~Whoever says breastfeeding doesn’t hurt is a liar. Oh my lord, at least my labor was over in four hours, but breastfeeding, oh no, breastfeeding happened every two hours for what seemed like the rest of my life. Every time Tucker cried for that first two weeks I cringed, “Oh my God, he’s hungry. No, no, no.” And I would pop him on, or more realistically try many agonizing times to get his head just right, make his lips look like a fish, get his mouth open wide enough, and then wait for the toe-curling pain to ensue. Add to this the fact that regardless of the pain and how much effort I put into this life sustaining enterprise, my son was not getting enough food and thus began losing weight. No stress there. The fix: pump after every time you feed him and feed him whatever it is you pump. Ah, just the thing for sore nipples. After a week of me feeding and pumping and feeding and pumping and every once in a while mooing, we did it. He gained two pounds in a week.
~I got peed on today…twice. It’s like a little unavoidable fountain.
~This is the first night that Tucker has gone to bed before me. I am so nervous. I basically have the baby monitor plastered to my ear in the hopes of hearing a little murmur or heavy sigh to reassure me that he is breathing. It’s amazing how two flights of stairs can feel like miles.
~Shaving my legs has become a luxury.
~Oooops…we forgot to feed the dog…again.
~One of the biggest lessons I am learning is that you can’t not do what is best for your child because you are afraid for yourself.
Healthy. Happy. Loved.
PS. Right now Tucker is loving his daddy. Every time my husband walks into the room Tucker starts smiling and giggling. When he sees me he wails, wants to eat and then spits up on me. My husband says Tucker smiles at him because he likes him better. I say it is just because he is funnier looking.
Tired of jumping
In profile...
Survival Kit
A friend of mine once told me that you can always tell the difference between someone that has children versus someone that does not by the gift they bring when visiting a new mom and baby for the first time. People with children always bring food. They know how hard it is to cook and prepare meals with a brand-new little one in the picture so a big lasagna or pot of soup is seen as invaluable. People without children tend to bring outfits. And while we had a mix of both after Tucker was born, I definitely agree that your perspective on gift-giving does change a bit after experiencing the whole baby thing for yourself. So when I was invited to an upcoming baby shower, my mind jumped to things that I don’t even think I knew existed before five months ago, much less before I was pregnant. So here we go, the items that I deem to be the best, most necessary, life saving gifts that every new mom should attain before giving birth (if you are reading this and going to the upcoming shower mentioned above, come up with your own ideas!):
1. Sleep Sack- This was and still is a godsend for my bundle of nerves. Picture an empty sack of potatoes, now picture it made out of fleece with a zipper up the front from the bottom to the neck hole, and two arm holes on either side. This brilliant piece of fabric serves doubletime as a cute little jacket of sorts as well as the baby’s blanket. A blanket mind you that has no chance of covering the baby’s face or getting all tangled around and about the body during sleep, hence the calming of my outrageous anxieties over the horrors of blankets and breathing and cribs (I’ve never said I don’t get carried away). It makes changing diapers in the middle of the night a cinch. I can’t tell you how much I dreaded having to re-swaddle Tucker after changing him in the wee hours of the morning. I’d have to turn on the lights (not expert enough at the swaddle at this point to do it blind), put him on the floor (which usually meant waking him up after nursing), and pick up his arms and body to tuck the blanket in (which if putting him on the floor didn’t wake him up this surely did the trick). Not to mention the fact that Tucker hated being swaddled in the first place and we only did it for the first two weeks of his life. We would wake up in the middle of the night to him grunting and kicking and squirming back and forth trying to break free of his little baby straight jacket. And always, as if to brag of his victory and show us he could not be beat, we would awaken in the morning to a little fist swinging freely about yet held high and strong in the air…Power to the People.
Downside: They don’t make these sacks with long sleeves. I would notice that whenever I fed or changed Tucker in the middle of the night his hands were like ice cubes. I was concerned for a little but realized that they didn’t bother him, they weren’t turning blue and to this day his fingers still work, so…
2. Dry Bag for Wet Stuff: Another Godsend. Not only is it fashionable (mine is brown with white and green flowers all over it), this small plastic-lined fabric bag has saved me more times than I like to count. Perfect for that untimely public explosion, you know the one, when your kiddo won’t stop crying and you lean over to pick them up out of the car seat or stroller and your hand is met with a soaking wet (sometimes and more often than not something more) back and you just pray you have a diaper in the diaper bag moment. That’s where the simple brilliance begins…you can just pop the putrefied clothes in with no fear of them touching anything else in the diaper bag, zip it up and smell not.
Downside: You must remember that you put these contaminants into the bag lest you go back on a different occasion under similar circumstances to find a yourself a lovely present that has been festering there for weeks.
3. Earth Mamma Nipple Cream: If you are breastfeeding this is without a doubt vital. This is what will help all the drying and cracking and crying and bleeding and blisterning and crying. Need I say more? I tried a few different creams and this is by far the best.
Downside: It’s not a miracle worker- they still hurt, just not nearly as much.
So there’s my recipe for one doozie of a shower gift (feel free to add your two cents in the comments although I can’t fathom that there is anything better than what I have already mentioned…heh heh). And, I guess now I have completely ruined any surprises for anyone reading this who is planning on having a baby and inviting me to their shower. Oh well, deal. And as for the visit after the baby is born, regardless of the fact that I have a child, you will still be receiving that oh-so-cute outfit from me…mom or not, I still don’t cook.
Healthy. Happy. Loved.
PS Tucker’s ever-growing vocal repertoire now includes a spot-on Darth Vader with a touch of Gollum.
Tucker Reading
Tucker still reading
Get Your Freak On
The big challenge looming over our heads right now is transferring Tucker from his co-sleeper/bassinet thing into his crib in his own room. I think he will probably be just fine with the move and probably sleep better for it. There will be no noise when mom and dad come to bed later in the night and no puppy shaking out and moving around to disturb his slumber. I think he’ll sleep like a baby (where does that saying come from anyway? aren’t babies known for their lack of sleeping?). Anyway, Tucker will be fine, it’s me I’m worried about.
It’s so silly, but I don’t want to let go (already). I like having him sleeping in the room with us and putting him in his own room means he is growing up (but for goodness sake, he is almost the same size as the inside of his crib and unless I want him growing up with accordian-like arms and legs then it’s time to get a move on). I know I have to get over it, but it is weirdly hard.
Although, now that I look back over the past four months there have been a lot of other things that have been weirdly hard or scary to start, but just seem like old hat to me now. For instance, changing diapers. For the first few days after Tucker was born I made my husband change his diapers. I told myself that this was just a great way to get him involved and to let him help out. In all honesty, I was terrified of changing a diaper. I know that sounds ridiculous, but it’s the truth. Something new, something I didn’t really know how to do, and I ran from it. Now I only run from diapers with my nose plugged because of their stink.
When Tucker would sleep for an extended period of time without moving or making a sound I found that fear quietly creeping into the back of my mind again. Even though I would spend my days (and still do) praying for long periods in dreamland, I would find myself terrified when it actually happened. Oh my God, he’s been sleeping for six hours, is he alright? is he still breathing? why isn’t he awake yet? Inevitably I would wake him up while trying to discreetly reassure myself that his chest was indeed moving up and down and his heart still beating. I suppose if someone kept leaning over me in the middle of the night with their face inches from mine and placing their hand on my chest I would awaken with a start too. Actually, now that I am writing this, I realize that this is the stuff of nightmares. Goodness, I’ll have to stop doing that (maybe just shake the bed a little instead). While I haven’t yet overcome this challenge one hundred percent, I have gotten better and no longer fear naptime or the long stretches of nighttime slumber.
Putting Tucker to bed before we went to bed was another big one. A ridiculously daunting task for me at the time, bedtime at 7pm has become a thing of bliss. To be able to hang out with my husband alone, or read a full chapter of a book without interruption, drink a cup of tea while it is still hot or catch up on a little TV has made the fear dissipate rather quickly. I don’t know what I was afraid of in putting him to bed, I think it was that letting go again, leaving him in a room by himself (would he be alright?). He was fine and again sleeps better for it and likewise has a much happier mom.
It’s really funny how you just get used to things. I remember watching the nurses in the hospital in awe and wonder as they would swaddle him. They’d pick him up in one arm, tuck him under another arm, roll him over in midair all with the nonchalance of a baseball player tossing a ball up and down in the air. When it came time for me to hold him I found there was a lot of “Oooh watch his head,” and “Be careful that he doesn’t roll out” and “Don’t drop him.” God forbid it came time to switch him out to another pair of waiting arms, “Do you have him? Are you sure? Here let me untangle my arm from your arm and get it out from behind his head…ooooh sorry.” These days I like to consider myself on par with the acrobatic baby nurses, picking Tucker up and setting him down and switching him from side to side with great ease. A little practice will get you everywhere.
It boggles the mind at just how many things I have worried about, I mean truly freaked out about, that I wouldn’t think about twice these days. I can’t tell you how many times I pulled the car over to make sure he was still breathing in his car seat. Is he sleeping enough? Is he sleeping to much? He hasn’t eaten in four hours, he’s going to dehydrate! Piling him high with blankets to ensure his warmth on a cold winter’s day only to be met with a sweat-soaked baby upon pulling him out of the car seat or baby carrier. Why hasn’t he smiled yet? Is he pooping enough? Is he pooping too much? Is it the right color poop?
I could go on and on. The only thing I have to comfort myself is the knowledge that with time each of these fears starts to subside. So every time a new one begins lurking around in my head, I tell myself that this too shall pass. For the past two weeks I have been gearing up to use the crib at night and each night so far I have given into the fear and kept the little one close at hand in our room instead. I know in a couple of months when I look back at this time, I will laugh and wonder why I was ever so afraid in the first place. But I’m not quite there yet. Maybe tonight will be the night….or maybe we’ll start tomorrow.
Healthy. Happy. Loved.
