Dear Elle,
We had a good day. I didn't have to work (I'm still on shorter weeks), and while we have plans tomorrow and Sunday, today was wide open. It was nice not to have to be anywhere but with you today.
You were up early (you have been ever since daylight savings time changed back), and all smiles. You were smiley all day, in fact, despite your truly horrifying lack of naps-- a four month old infant should not be able to stay up from 6 a.m. to 7 p.m. with only one 35 minute morning nap, 10 minutes sleeping in the car, and 20 minutes sleeping in the stroller. That's IT. Seriously. Crazy.
Despite that, though, you were a happy girl. You loved going out and doing errands; even the grocery store is fun for you. You were happy to get not one, but two walks, courtesy of the unseasonably warm day. Walks are so good for both of us. (I confess I am a little worried about winter days where we truly can't get out of the house, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.) You liked hanging out while I did stuff in my room, and you enjoyed just being on your blanket surrounded by toys.
You worked very hard at getting the various toys into your mouth. Right now it is ALL about the mouth-- everything must. go. in. the. mouth. NOW. Sometimes you aren't quite sure how to get the toy to your mouth, and it ends up around your ear, but you figure it out eventually.
You spent much of the day just watching me with those big, gorgeous eyes. What do you see when you stare at me? A woman at the store said "Oh, look at her. She's just looking at you like she's thinking 'that's my mom.' " I don't know if that's what you're thinking with that little intent face. I guess I won't ever know.
When it was time for bed, you went down without a peep; you just snuggled your head into my neck as I sang to you, then went into your crib, kicked off any attempt at a blanket cover, and found your thumb. Now you're hopefully upstairs making up for all the napping you didn't do today.
Sweet dreams, my beautiful happy girl.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Sunday, November 7, 2010
It doesn't take much
Apparently, if I fake a coughing fit in an over-the-top melodramatic fashion, Elle thinks it is absolutely hilarious.
Who knew?
Who knew?
Friday, November 5, 2010
Four months
Elle is four months old. That seems completely impossible, but it's true.
A while ago, someone said something to me about motherhood that rings very true now. She said the individual minutes seem to take years-- but the time goes by so fast it's unbelievable. Yes. This.
She's alert and chatty. She likes being around people. She has an excellent appetite and thus the most adorable fat thighs you've ever seen-- rolls upon rolls on those thighs, each one pink and soft and hilarious. She does not like changing clothes. She still likes the ceiling fan. She-- unfortunately-- also likes TV. Fortunately, she's starting to look at books when I read to her, and often seems to enjoy them. She doesn't mind tummy time so much; it's like it's a whole new perspective, and that's big fun. She's grabbing at things reliably now, though she doesn't quite know what to do with them once she has them. She has excellent head control. She can't roll over on her own yet, but let her wrap her hand around your finger and give a pretty mild tug and she'll whip over like a pro (and once she gets there, still doesn't quite know what to do with the arms that are now underneath her). She sleeps at least 10 or 10 1/2 hours per night most nights, straight through, but still doesn't nap reliably for me during the day. She likes her babysitter, and adores her babysitter's teenaged son. She does not like wearing hats. She's not in love with being in the car, but she'll put up with it if she has to. She likes looking at the sparkle of jewelry. She likes being sung to. She laughs and laughs when you stretch her toes up to her face, or when you make noise and kiss her in her neck folds, or when you "fly" her around over your head. She is very serious after about 4:00 in the afternoon. She is not at all serious in the mornings; when I get her out of her crib she greets me with a smile and, often, a little chirpy laugh that I can't describe.
Four months? It seems like four years, and four minutes, all at once.
A while ago, someone said something to me about motherhood that rings very true now. She said the individual minutes seem to take years-- but the time goes by so fast it's unbelievable. Yes. This.
She's alert and chatty. She likes being around people. She has an excellent appetite and thus the most adorable fat thighs you've ever seen-- rolls upon rolls on those thighs, each one pink and soft and hilarious. She does not like changing clothes. She still likes the ceiling fan. She-- unfortunately-- also likes TV. Fortunately, she's starting to look at books when I read to her, and often seems to enjoy them. She doesn't mind tummy time so much; it's like it's a whole new perspective, and that's big fun. She's grabbing at things reliably now, though she doesn't quite know what to do with them once she has them. She has excellent head control. She can't roll over on her own yet, but let her wrap her hand around your finger and give a pretty mild tug and she'll whip over like a pro (and once she gets there, still doesn't quite know what to do with the arms that are now underneath her). She sleeps at least 10 or 10 1/2 hours per night most nights, straight through, but still doesn't nap reliably for me during the day. She likes her babysitter, and adores her babysitter's teenaged son. She does not like wearing hats. She's not in love with being in the car, but she'll put up with it if she has to. She likes looking at the sparkle of jewelry. She likes being sung to. She laughs and laughs when you stretch her toes up to her face, or when you make noise and kiss her in her neck folds, or when you "fly" her around over your head. She is very serious after about 4:00 in the afternoon. She is not at all serious in the mornings; when I get her out of her crib she greets me with a smile and, often, a little chirpy laugh that I can't describe.
Four months? It seems like four years, and four minutes, all at once.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Advice and consent
People who know me have, more than once, told me that I am ridiculously independent. I have trouble asking for help, for one thing. This is something I have gotten better at out of sheer necessity since I became pregnant, and even more so now that I'm a parent (and a single parent, at that-— help is essential), but I'm still not great at it. I probably never will be.
I'm better at listening to, and taking, advice. While I will stand in the middle of a melting chunk of ice and insist that I AM FINE AND DO NOT NEED HELP, I am the first to admit that I don't know everything, and I like hearing other people's opinions and ideas on things. (So offer me advice how I should get off the ice. Don't offer, God forbid, to help!)
Except, apparently, from my mother.
Some of it is in the delivery, and other people who've heard my mother give advice to me have agreed with me that her delivery is... not necessarily helpful, or easy to accept. (Validation! I love me some validation.) Her incessantly negative opinions of, and advice relative to, bre.astfeeding in the first few weeks following Elle's birth was exhausting and frustrating. I'm still angry about it, to be honest, and rightly or wrongly I attribute some of my difficulties with bfeeding to the stress it caused.
However, that said, I'm sure she has plenty of good information to offer. She did a pretty good job raising me, after all. But for whatever reason, the hair on the back of my neck just goes right up and I can feel myself digging in whenever she starts offering her thoughts on anything to do with Elle.
(Sample: She called smack in the middle of one time when Elle screamed for 2.5 hours for no apparent reason. Mom: “What's wrong?” Me, exhausted: “I don't know. She's just screaming her head off.” Mom: “Is she wet?” Why, thank GOD you asked, mother! My baby daughter has been inconsolable for over an hour and I never even thought to check her diaper! Thank goodness you called with your wise counsel! Seriously, I just looked at the phone and didn't know how to respond.)
It's a shame, because if I was more open to her counsel, I'm sure I'd benefit from it. I'm just not.
My babysitter L, on the other hand, can say pretty much the same thing—- but I listen to her. She's got a son in college and has been watching kids for 15+ years, so she has a good base of experience to draw from. Her advice has been very practical and down-to-earth. I'm also reassured that she notices things about Elle and mentions them to me, so she's clearly paying attention and engaged, which I like a lot.
So I don’t have trouble with accepting advice from motherly figures. Just my mother.
Good to know.
I'm better at listening to, and taking, advice. While I will stand in the middle of a melting chunk of ice and insist that I AM FINE AND DO NOT NEED HELP, I am the first to admit that I don't know everything, and I like hearing other people's opinions and ideas on things. (So offer me advice how I should get off the ice. Don't offer, God forbid, to help!)
Except, apparently, from my mother.
Some of it is in the delivery, and other people who've heard my mother give advice to me have agreed with me that her delivery is... not necessarily helpful, or easy to accept. (Validation! I love me some validation.) Her incessantly negative opinions of, and advice relative to, bre.astfeeding in the first few weeks following Elle's birth was exhausting and frustrating. I'm still angry about it, to be honest, and rightly or wrongly I attribute some of my difficulties with bfeeding to the stress it caused.
However, that said, I'm sure she has plenty of good information to offer. She did a pretty good job raising me, after all. But for whatever reason, the hair on the back of my neck just goes right up and I can feel myself digging in whenever she starts offering her thoughts on anything to do with Elle.
(Sample: She called smack in the middle of one time when Elle screamed for 2.5 hours for no apparent reason. Mom: “What's wrong?” Me, exhausted: “I don't know. She's just screaming her head off.” Mom: “Is she wet?” Why, thank GOD you asked, mother! My baby daughter has been inconsolable for over an hour and I never even thought to check her diaper! Thank goodness you called with your wise counsel! Seriously, I just looked at the phone and didn't know how to respond.)
It's a shame, because if I was more open to her counsel, I'm sure I'd benefit from it. I'm just not.
My babysitter L, on the other hand, can say pretty much the same thing—- but I listen to her. She's got a son in college and has been watching kids for 15+ years, so she has a good base of experience to draw from. Her advice has been very practical and down-to-earth. I'm also reassured that she notices things about Elle and mentions them to me, so she's clearly paying attention and engaged, which I like a lot.
So I don’t have trouble with accepting advice from motherly figures. Just my mother.
Good to know.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Sunday mornings are made for updates
I think there's a trend-- Elle is going down for her nap just when I should be leaving for pre-church choir rehearsal. And she really needs to go down for her nap; there's no cheering her up or hoping she'll fall asleep once we get to church.
Next Sunday is her christening. I think I'll have to get her up earlier (yuck) in order for her to nap a bit before we have to get her out of the house... It should be interesting. At least there will be other people there to babywrangle, what with my parents in town, and the various godparents and friends present.
So today, I've already finished ironing clothes for the week, written a thank-you note, washed the only dirty bottle, and decided not to dust. Thus, I'm messing around on the intarwebs, and hoping Elle wakes up in time to make at least part of the church service. We also have a baptism informational meeting afterwards, which (if nothing else) we should be able to make.
I've worked out how to make choir rehearsals on a semi-regular basis. But getting to actually sing... that's going to be a challenge.
Elle made her first trip to Ikea yesterday. She was angelic, which I am taking to mean that she's a fan of Swedish design. Also of Swedish food, because she was perfectly behaved while a friend and I grabbed a cheap lunch in their cafeteria.
They've redesigned the traffic flow/interior of my favorite Ikea, and made it much less open and much more difficult to maneuver. Bleah. You used to be able to wander around in fairly open aisles, and now you feel herded like a sheep. I understand that they want you to have less freedom to roam because theoretically then you'll buy more-- but for me, I'll buy less when I feel claustrophobic. And I'll be grumpy.
Of course, I still managed to buy. I got a small bookcase for Elle's room, as well as some more fabric collapsible storage boxes that are perfect for toys. They have a cute toy box, but the little fabric boxes are more portable and flexible.
Did I get anything for me, you might ask? Yes. A soap dish. We all know who rates in the Plus One household.
One note-- I needed the bookcase for a good reason. A friend who works at a library in the area got me a stack of children's books from when her library was reorganizing its children's collection. Literally, we're talking about a stack of books at least a foot high-- probably higher than that! They are fabulous-- I'm going to wipe off the covers, just because, but it's a wonderful stash of books that hopefully Elle will love.
You can never, ever have too many books.
Next Sunday is her christening. I think I'll have to get her up earlier (yuck) in order for her to nap a bit before we have to get her out of the house... It should be interesting. At least there will be other people there to babywrangle, what with my parents in town, and the various godparents and friends present.
So today, I've already finished ironing clothes for the week, written a thank-you note, washed the only dirty bottle, and decided not to dust. Thus, I'm messing around on the intarwebs, and hoping Elle wakes up in time to make at least part of the church service. We also have a baptism informational meeting afterwards, which (if nothing else) we should be able to make.
I've worked out how to make choir rehearsals on a semi-regular basis. But getting to actually sing... that's going to be a challenge.
Elle made her first trip to Ikea yesterday. She was angelic, which I am taking to mean that she's a fan of Swedish design. Also of Swedish food, because she was perfectly behaved while a friend and I grabbed a cheap lunch in their cafeteria.
They've redesigned the traffic flow/interior of my favorite Ikea, and made it much less open and much more difficult to maneuver. Bleah. You used to be able to wander around in fairly open aisles, and now you feel herded like a sheep. I understand that they want you to have less freedom to roam because theoretically then you'll buy more-- but for me, I'll buy less when I feel claustrophobic. And I'll be grumpy.
Of course, I still managed to buy. I got a small bookcase for Elle's room, as well as some more fabric collapsible storage boxes that are perfect for toys. They have a cute toy box, but the little fabric boxes are more portable and flexible.
Did I get anything for me, you might ask? Yes. A soap dish. We all know who rates in the Plus One household.
One note-- I needed the bookcase for a good reason. A friend who works at a library in the area got me a stack of children's books from when her library was reorganizing its children's collection. Literally, we're talking about a stack of books at least a foot high-- probably higher than that! They are fabulous-- I'm going to wipe off the covers, just because, but it's a wonderful stash of books that hopefully Elle will love.
You can never, ever have too many books.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Hairy issues
Postpartum hair loss: OY. I have always had TONS and TONS of hair, but now... I swear, where I part my hair, it looks like I’m going bald.
Doesn’t help that I need my hair colored, too, so you see the grey roots at the part. But SERIOUSLY. I know it'll stop and that I’m not likely to go bald or anything, but I'm not used to this thin hair crap. And I’m not happy about it.
No wonder my hair looked so good immediately post-baby; it was probably about twice as thick as it is now. Oh, well. I’d rather have thin hair (and my daughter) than still be pregnant.
Also, note to self: Self, you can’t continue eating like you’re brea.stfeeding. You’re not any more.
***
I was at a get-together of single moms this past weekend, and someone was asking me how it was going back to work. I admitted, honestly, that it hadn’t been as hard as I thought it would be. One of the other moms there nodded. "Yeah. Because work is way easier than taking care of a baby."
You know, she's right. I can't even tell you how much respect I have for stay at home moms now. For IT IS HARD. That doesn’t mean it’s not fun or rewarding, of course. But it’s hard, and I don’t think I could do it. I’m really glad to get home and see her, but when I get to work in the morning, I’m also happy to be there.
It helps that I like my work. I don't love my job, but it's the right job for me, right now, what with the new-single-momhood and all. I'm extremely lucky, because I've been at my job for a number of years and there's no question I have more flexibility because of the goodwill I've built up there.
Some women are wired to be home with their kids. I think I had Elle late enough in my life that I got wired differently.
But I sure do love coming home to her, and I'm glad I'm on a four-day week right now.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Sunday sniffles
We may not make it to church today... little Miss Elle woke up, had her bottle, and was down for a nap only a little more than an hour later, which is not her norm. I think she might be starting on her first cold. No temp, fortunately, but she sounds stuffy to me, and-- TMI alert-- she had a pretty loose BM this morning, which is another sign of a cold (apparently).
This is why I have six people reading this blog: FASCINATING DETAILS OF POO.
It's hard to watch a little one not feel 100%. Just like when she was feeling poorly after her first shots, I just feel helpless. I'm glad she's sleeping now, since (just like with us grown-ups) sleeping helps her little body. I'm also going to dig out my little humidifier and set it up in her room, and I have the suction bulb ready to go. Hot times in the old town tonight!
I do need to get some saline drops. Let's see if we can get out to the store today or not, but I'm not waking her up to take her to church. If she needs to sleep, she needs to sleep. And we may make it to church itself; I just may not sing.
There's a single mom's group meeting this afternoon. If she's still not herself when she gets up, though, we may need to stay close to home.
Friends came over last night to meet Elle, and the husband cooked dinner for us as well. "Us" as in his wife and me, of course; as much as Elle might like to try enchiladas with a poblano spinach cream sauce, I think that would be a recipe for disaster, don't you? They were deeeeelicious. He's an amazing cook.
Before he started cooking (in my tiny kitchen, which is not made for his level of cookery!), we hung out and caught up, and Elle was perfectly content to hang out on the husband's lap. Basically, she adored him, and he's really comfortable with babies. They don't have children-- never wanted them-- but are terrific to their niece and nephew, and like kids; that comes through. Elle was happy as a clam. She's such a social little peanut.
She was then so wired, of course, that it took her a while to get to sleep. :) Which may also be part of her tiredness today, I wonder?
Anyway, I'm reminded again how lucky I am to have such good friends. Whatever I did in my previous lives, it clearly wasn't all bad; whatever it was that led me to having such wonderful people in my life, I'm happy it did.
I know some friends will fall away now that I'm a parent, too, and even the ones who stick around will interact differently with me/us than in the past. I've seen some of that already. But I've also seen such amazing generosity and affection. It's humbling, and amazing, and I am so grateful.
This is why I have six people reading this blog: FASCINATING DETAILS OF POO.
It's hard to watch a little one not feel 100%. Just like when she was feeling poorly after her first shots, I just feel helpless. I'm glad she's sleeping now, since (just like with us grown-ups) sleeping helps her little body. I'm also going to dig out my little humidifier and set it up in her room, and I have the suction bulb ready to go. Hot times in the old town tonight!
I do need to get some saline drops. Let's see if we can get out to the store today or not, but I'm not waking her up to take her to church. If she needs to sleep, she needs to sleep. And we may make it to church itself; I just may not sing.
There's a single mom's group meeting this afternoon. If she's still not herself when she gets up, though, we may need to stay close to home.
Friends came over last night to meet Elle, and the husband cooked dinner for us as well. "Us" as in his wife and me, of course; as much as Elle might like to try enchiladas with a poblano spinach cream sauce, I think that would be a recipe for disaster, don't you? They were deeeeelicious. He's an amazing cook.
Before he started cooking (in my tiny kitchen, which is not made for his level of cookery!), we hung out and caught up, and Elle was perfectly content to hang out on the husband's lap. Basically, she adored him, and he's really comfortable with babies. They don't have children-- never wanted them-- but are terrific to their niece and nephew, and like kids; that comes through. Elle was happy as a clam. She's such a social little peanut.
She was then so wired, of course, that it took her a while to get to sleep. :) Which may also be part of her tiredness today, I wonder?
Anyway, I'm reminded again how lucky I am to have such good friends. Whatever I did in my previous lives, it clearly wasn't all bad; whatever it was that led me to having such wonderful people in my life, I'm happy it did.
I know some friends will fall away now that I'm a parent, too, and even the ones who stick around will interact differently with me/us than in the past. I've seen some of that already. But I've also seen such amazing generosity and affection. It's humbling, and amazing, and I am so grateful.
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