(First: I'm really, really, REALLY far behind on thank-yous and holiday cards. I swear I've got stuff to send and I hope to have some time to work on that this weekend, baby willing. I'm not trying to be rude I'm just overwhelmed!)
'Twas her first and 'twas lovely. We spent it down in E-ville with my family, per our holiday rotation, slightly amended due to last year's blizzard. I'm sure the folks down there ended up thankful for us not being able to come down last year since all they would have gotten was a sleepy, nauseated, newly pregnant me. Gaz is way more fun than that.
The teething had abated somewhat (still lots of chewing, but less fussing than usual) so Gaz was in generally good spirits apart from when we first got into town around 1:30 am. Then she just needed a full tummy and time to adjust to Grandma Cel and Grandpa Charley's house and she was right as rain again.
Gaz received some really great clothes from Aunt Hillary and Uncle Sean, as well as some from the Great-Grandparents Rizen. There were also some new books (a fuzzy puppy book, a Five Little Monkeys book + finger puppets, and the Complete Tales of Peter Rabbit) and toys (a FP stacking ring thing that plays classical music). While we were down there Mom and I went shopping for Gaz-sized turtleneck onesies (no, no explanation for my obsession with those things) and we ended up finding a doorway jumper for cheap. Score!
The night driving was fairly successful but the day driving really bit. We had to stop more often and had to play her special Gaz-soothing CDs much more often. Looks like we'll have to organize road trips so that all the driving is done after bedtime.
All these holiday trips make me wish that we lived closer to family. It's so great to see everyone and we miss everyone horribly when we go. So you all have to move to Chicago, okay? ;)
Yesterday on my way into the office I saw a fellow with his five-week-old son. He was carrying him in a carseat just like the one we just left in E-vill (thanks to the best Christmas present ever--a carseat big enough to safely contain our big girl) and I commented that I liked the car seat and oh I remember those early days. I got a good look at the little guy and he was pretty big, probably as big as Gaz was at five weeks. I got all nostalgic and told the guy to enjoy these days before they get too chaotic. Nostalgic already! Beware of introspective me in August.
The only drawback of having to upgrade the carseat is that our Snap 'N Go no longer works. For a stroller we've got just a little umbrella stroller (which we wouldn't even have if my Aunt Alice hadn't surprised us with an off-registry item) right now. I've found my dream stroller, complete with shopping basket and rain hood and pockets and things, but jeez are those things expensive. We thought we'd have plenty of time to run down bigger-baby items well into the future, but big baby accelerated our bigger-baby needs timeline. What we've got now works just fine for baby transport, but since I tend to overpack and carry too much stuff, I do miss that handy basket under the seat of the Snap 'N Go. It's a high class problem but I complain still.
Anyway, we're looking forward to a New Year full of fun new developmental milestones. Solid food soon, and crawling too looks like it's not far off. For now I just need to survive this work week.
Happy holidays to all!
Thursday, December 29, 2005
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
It's all about the earplugs
At various times in my life, I have been a caregiver for other peoples' children. I've learned a lot and had a lot of fun, but the most important thing I've learned is how to be mean.
Let's face it, children cry. They cry about lots of things - bumped knees, teasing on the playground, brushing their teeth. As adults, it's our job to figure out why they are crying and what needs to be done about it. That's the easy part.
The hard part is when they cry because they don't want to do something we know they really need to do, or because we won't let them do something that we know is a bad thing. For those moments, you need earplugs, and the guts to be mean. (There is nothing so terrible to one's ego than being called mean by a child. I'm serious - I've had terrible relationship breakups that were less painful.)
You cannot make a child stop crying. You can distract them, cuddle them, soothe them, make it stop hurting, make it stop being scary - but ultimately, you cannot make them stop crying. So stick in those earplugs and move along with whatever it is they have to do.
I'm lucky with Gaz. She doesn't have that particular pitch of jet plane howl that would force me to break out the earplugs. I can just set the TV to closed captioning and ignore it, or strap her into the bouncy chair and leave the room for a few minutes if I really need a break. She's a happy baby and really doesn't cry that often or for that long.
But right now she DOES NOT WANT THE BOTTLE. In any form - bottle, sippy cup, or other milk-giving mechanism. Nope, nuh-uh, not gonna have it. So she cries, because she's a baby and that's really the only way she can express her annoyance.
I sympathise, really I do. Her little gums hurt, and anything not as soft as Mom's breast hurts them more. Her little teeth hurt my fingers, so I'm trying to convince her that we don't really need to break out the supplemental feeder and attach it to my finger. But I'm the adult, and I know that she needs to eat even when Mom's not around to nurse.
So yesterday we spent most of the day crying and rocking. Me, rocking and holding a bottle or sippy cup in her mouth, and her crying and resisting it. There were many breaks for cuddling and soothing and naps and playing, but still. It was rough. I hate to cause her so much distress.
We did discover that the gum pain is not so bad as to wake her if she sucks in her sleep, so the most successful feeding was accomplished while she slept. This is very good, if hard on my arms. Holding a bottle in perfect feeding position for an hour and a half may well qualify as torture under the Geneva Conventions. I think I'll work on making a bottle suspender system to take the weight off.
Grandma and Grampa, thank you so much for helping out while I went on vacation! We had a perfectly wonderful time visiting with my family and friends, and I'm so glad we got to take one last vacation before Stormy heads for the wilds of Seattle. Gaz sends you cuddles and smiles!
Let's face it, children cry. They cry about lots of things - bumped knees, teasing on the playground, brushing their teeth. As adults, it's our job to figure out why they are crying and what needs to be done about it. That's the easy part.
The hard part is when they cry because they don't want to do something we know they really need to do, or because we won't let them do something that we know is a bad thing. For those moments, you need earplugs, and the guts to be mean. (There is nothing so terrible to one's ego than being called mean by a child. I'm serious - I've had terrible relationship breakups that were less painful.)
You cannot make a child stop crying. You can distract them, cuddle them, soothe them, make it stop hurting, make it stop being scary - but ultimately, you cannot make them stop crying. So stick in those earplugs and move along with whatever it is they have to do.
I'm lucky with Gaz. She doesn't have that particular pitch of jet plane howl that would force me to break out the earplugs. I can just set the TV to closed captioning and ignore it, or strap her into the bouncy chair and leave the room for a few minutes if I really need a break. She's a happy baby and really doesn't cry that often or for that long.
But right now she DOES NOT WANT THE BOTTLE. In any form - bottle, sippy cup, or other milk-giving mechanism. Nope, nuh-uh, not gonna have it. So she cries, because she's a baby and that's really the only way she can express her annoyance.
I sympathise, really I do. Her little gums hurt, and anything not as soft as Mom's breast hurts them more. Her little teeth hurt my fingers, so I'm trying to convince her that we don't really need to break out the supplemental feeder and attach it to my finger. But I'm the adult, and I know that she needs to eat even when Mom's not around to nurse.
So yesterday we spent most of the day crying and rocking. Me, rocking and holding a bottle or sippy cup in her mouth, and her crying and resisting it. There were many breaks for cuddling and soothing and naps and playing, but still. It was rough. I hate to cause her so much distress.
We did discover that the gum pain is not so bad as to wake her if she sucks in her sleep, so the most successful feeding was accomplished while she slept. This is very good, if hard on my arms. Holding a bottle in perfect feeding position for an hour and a half may well qualify as torture under the Geneva Conventions. I think I'll work on making a bottle suspender system to take the weight off.
Grandma and Grampa, thank you so much for helping out while I went on vacation! We had a perfectly wonderful time visiting with my family and friends, and I'm so glad we got to take one last vacation before Stormy heads for the wilds of Seattle. Gaz sends you cuddles and smiles!
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Finally
It's been a crazy week or so. We've weathered our first nursing strike, which we think was brought on by a combination of teething pain and achey, innoculated legs. There was some fun new night waking/hysterical crying too. It really wasn't fun, but it puts things in perspective. I'm sure one day I'll look back on these as the easy days. In the meantime we're still waiting for new teeth to poke out.
Let's see. . . At the four-month appointment height was 27" and weight was 18 pounds, 11 ounces. Less than I expected, but with the teething and holidays making feeding schedules wacky at best, I wouldn't be surprised if she lost a little bit. There's absolutely nothing to worry about, though, because she's still above the 97th percentile for both height and weight, and she's perfectly proportioned. She's a big baby, but she's in no way overweight. Her development is right on target for her age, too. All good. This was the first appointment where she didn't cry the whole time. Until the needles that is, and even then she was all smiles until she got stuck the first time. She quieted pretty quickly, too, and remained relatively calm on the drive home. She's getting to be so big.
She's much better at sitting now by herself. I stay close by whenever I've got her sitting (especially on the couch) but she keels over much less often and when she flops forward she either chews her toes a bit and rolls to her side or pushes herself back up. She's getting really, really close to assuming the position for crawling. Just waiting for those core muscles to firm up and then look out, folks.
The other new thing is grabbing. Grabbing at anything and everything: the colander, any thing on or comprising my face (especially my lower lip), food (she's totally uninterested once she's got a handful of rice & beans, but I guess that's not the point just yet), anything with words on it, cups I'm drinking out of, everything on the coffee table, and . . . well, anything within view. She reaches and complains if she can't get to it and/or if I interfere. We're learning the fine art of distracting her from what she wants to grab and substituting something that's okay for her to get her hands and mouth on.
In among all these things, we had a great visit from Grandma Judy and Grandpa Will, who did us an enormous and most appreciated favor in taking over day care duties while Babysitter Lisa was vacationing. Gaz is very lucky to have such great grandparents, and we're lucky to have so much support from both our families.
Let's see. . . At the four-month appointment height was 27" and weight was 18 pounds, 11 ounces. Less than I expected, but with the teething and holidays making feeding schedules wacky at best, I wouldn't be surprised if she lost a little bit. There's absolutely nothing to worry about, though, because she's still above the 97th percentile for both height and weight, and she's perfectly proportioned. She's a big baby, but she's in no way overweight. Her development is right on target for her age, too. All good. This was the first appointment where she didn't cry the whole time. Until the needles that is, and even then she was all smiles until she got stuck the first time. She quieted pretty quickly, too, and remained relatively calm on the drive home. She's getting to be so big.
She's much better at sitting now by herself. I stay close by whenever I've got her sitting (especially on the couch) but she keels over much less often and when she flops forward she either chews her toes a bit and rolls to her side or pushes herself back up. She's getting really, really close to assuming the position for crawling. Just waiting for those core muscles to firm up and then look out, folks.
The other new thing is grabbing. Grabbing at anything and everything: the colander, any thing on or comprising my face (especially my lower lip), food (she's totally uninterested once she's got a handful of rice & beans, but I guess that's not the point just yet), anything with words on it, cups I'm drinking out of, everything on the coffee table, and . . . well, anything within view. She reaches and complains if she can't get to it and/or if I interfere. We're learning the fine art of distracting her from what she wants to grab and substituting something that's okay for her to get her hands and mouth on.
In among all these things, we had a great visit from Grandma Judy and Grandpa Will, who did us an enormous and most appreciated favor in taking over day care duties while Babysitter Lisa was vacationing. Gaz is very lucky to have such great grandparents, and we're lucky to have so much support from both our families.
Thursday, December 1, 2005
oh, so many things
1. We have two teeth out now, both on the bottom. These teeth have started biting me in uncomfortable places.
2. Gaz is now even more than ever enchanted and distracted by The World (TM), which directly contributes to the biting and also her general distractedness with things like nursing.
3. She's trying really hard to sit up by herself. She succeeds sometimes when she's on a lap, but when she's on her own she mostly ends up eating toes. Not that she minds that at all. I think she might just fold forward just so she can suck on her toes while looking at things more interesting than the ceiling. Then there's also those times when she manages the sitting without going completely head-to-toes, but ends up going to one side. It's pretty amusing and someone is always close at hand to prevent any head bumps.
4. She's got rolling down pat. I've gotten over the fact that she shows off fun new tricks first for Mark and not me. I like to think that when I'm around she'd rather look at me and when Mark is around she's plotting an escape attempt. :)
5. It looks like the legs are ready for crawling, but now we've got to wait for the arms to catch up. She still doesn't hold herself up straight-armed, but I expect that's not far off.
6. This morning before I left for work she was standing on my lap (with me holding her steady, of course) and she discovered jumping. It was all fun and games until Mama got tired of being bonked on the chin with a smiling baby head. Gaz was completely unfazed in her excitement over having found this fun new thing to do with her legs. Weeee!
More as I remember, memory being a luxury some weeks (like this one).
2. Gaz is now even more than ever enchanted and distracted by The World (TM), which directly contributes to the biting and also her general distractedness with things like nursing.
3. She's trying really hard to sit up by herself. She succeeds sometimes when she's on a lap, but when she's on her own she mostly ends up eating toes. Not that she minds that at all. I think she might just fold forward just so she can suck on her toes while looking at things more interesting than the ceiling. Then there's also those times when she manages the sitting without going completely head-to-toes, but ends up going to one side. It's pretty amusing and someone is always close at hand to prevent any head bumps.
4. She's got rolling down pat. I've gotten over the fact that she shows off fun new tricks first for Mark and not me. I like to think that when I'm around she'd rather look at me and when Mark is around she's plotting an escape attempt. :)
5. It looks like the legs are ready for crawling, but now we've got to wait for the arms to catch up. She still doesn't hold herself up straight-armed, but I expect that's not far off.
6. This morning before I left for work she was standing on my lap (with me holding her steady, of course) and she discovered jumping. It was all fun and games until Mama got tired of being bonked on the chin with a smiling baby head. Gaz was completely unfazed in her excitement over having found this fun new thing to do with her legs. Weeee!
More as I remember, memory being a luxury some weeks (like this one).
Monday, November 21, 2005
momma update
Things going on with ye olde Gaz Momma:
My deQuervain's tendinitis seems to be responding to the splint and cortisone injection. I've trained myself to pick up Gaz in a way that doesn't aggravate any swollen tendons and life is generally better in the wrist department. I may even be able to knit again soon!
Sleep deprivation hasn't been a huge problem for me (thank you, daughter dearest!) but when it happens the first thing to go is my ability to carry on a sensible, adult phone conversation. Sorry Angeli. ;)
Pumpin' ain't easy. But it's worth it to keep my milk up for Gaz to enjoy for as long as her little heart desires. Truly a labor of love. Speaking of, it's time to go do that now.
My deQuervain's tendinitis seems to be responding to the splint and cortisone injection. I've trained myself to pick up Gaz in a way that doesn't aggravate any swollen tendons and life is generally better in the wrist department. I may even be able to knit again soon!
Sleep deprivation hasn't been a huge problem for me (thank you, daughter dearest!) but when it happens the first thing to go is my ability to carry on a sensible, adult phone conversation. Sorry Angeli. ;)
Pumpin' ain't easy. But it's worth it to keep my milk up for Gaz to enjoy for as long as her little heart desires. Truly a labor of love. Speaking of, it's time to go do that now.
big fat weekend of big milestoney things
Oh oh oh, where to begin?
First, you can really see that little tooth sticking out now. Well, you can see it when Gaz stops rubbing her gums with her tongue for a few seconds, which doesn't happen all that often. You've got to spend a lot of time staring at her mouth to catch it and after a while she gets bored and a little suspicious.
She's figured out that she's not completely helpless against the icky faux grape taste of Tylenol. Now she clamps her mouth shut and cries before someone doses her.
Rolling over has been mastered! Of course Dad was the first one to witness the rolling from back to tummy and back to the back, but I've seen it now and I imagine Lisa will see it this week, too. Very exciting! The pictures are not so much of the process, but of the end result and so will probably not be uploaded yet. I imagine there will be many cute Thanksgiving pictures that will be more of a priority. Getting to see Grandma Judy and Grandpa Will, Emily and Kyle and the goils, and everyone else will be wonderful fun, I'm sure. I can't wait to see how Gaz takes it all. She loooooves babies but I don't think she's seen many kids up close and personal.
Diapering is more interesting now, since she's figured out velcro (the disposables we use have those nice reclosable fasteners) and she's also figured out that her hand reaches down to crotch level. Not only do I have to keep her feet from getting into the dirty diapers, I have to keep hands out too. I need more hands myself.
Most importantly, Gaz can now stick her left big toe in her mouth and suck on it. She's been working on this ever since she found her toes. Usually she does this while laying on her back, but I hear tell that she sometimes tries to get toes to mouth while sitting up in her Boppy. She keeps a gal on her toes, that's for sure. I did manage to get one good shot of her sucking on toes, so that should go up just as soon as holiday preparations and sleep deprivation stop trying killing me.
First, you can really see that little tooth sticking out now. Well, you can see it when Gaz stops rubbing her gums with her tongue for a few seconds, which doesn't happen all that often. You've got to spend a lot of time staring at her mouth to catch it and after a while she gets bored and a little suspicious.
She's figured out that she's not completely helpless against the icky faux grape taste of Tylenol. Now she clamps her mouth shut and cries before someone doses her.
Rolling over has been mastered! Of course Dad was the first one to witness the rolling from back to tummy and back to the back, but I've seen it now and I imagine Lisa will see it this week, too. Very exciting! The pictures are not so much of the process, but of the end result and so will probably not be uploaded yet. I imagine there will be many cute Thanksgiving pictures that will be more of a priority. Getting to see Grandma Judy and Grandpa Will, Emily and Kyle and the goils, and everyone else will be wonderful fun, I'm sure. I can't wait to see how Gaz takes it all. She loooooves babies but I don't think she's seen many kids up close and personal.
Diapering is more interesting now, since she's figured out velcro (the disposables we use have those nice reclosable fasteners) and she's also figured out that her hand reaches down to crotch level. Not only do I have to keep her feet from getting into the dirty diapers, I have to keep hands out too. I need more hands myself.
Most importantly, Gaz can now stick her left big toe in her mouth and suck on it. She's been working on this ever since she found her toes. Usually she does this while laying on her back, but I hear tell that she sometimes tries to get toes to mouth while sitting up in her Boppy. She keeps a gal on her toes, that's for sure. I did manage to get one good shot of her sucking on toes, so that should go up just as soon as holiday preparations and sleep deprivation stop trying killing me.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
The Tooth
The top edge of Gaz's very first tooth has emerged!! Actually, it cut through last Friday, unfortunately, while Gaz gnawed away at Auntie Angeli's finger. It's the lower right incisor, and it just so happens that that tooth's neighbor is the next one to start working its way to the surface.
One down, 27 to go!
Now if I can get her to quit tongue-ing her gums, I'll get a picture.
One down, 27 to go!
Now if I can get her to quit tongue-ing her gums, I'll get a picture.
Wednesday, November 9, 2005
The teething continues
Oh, woe. For those brave enough to stick a finger in her mouth, there is clearly one tiny tooth--the lower right incisor--that is about to make its grand entrance. While this is plenty exciting from a milestone standpoint, it's excruciating to endure from a baby or parent standpoint.
Lately it's become difficult for her to even nurse through the pain. Sometimes the Tylenol has worn off enough that right in the middle of nursing she pulls away and shrieks. It seems that switching to the pacifier for a few minutes (safe for chewing on, unlike Mom) while keeping her in whatever position we're in usually results in her calming down and working her gums enough that she's able to go back to nursing without too much additional fuss. At least I hope that's how it's working. We just did that this morning and I was finally able to get enough milk in her to get her to her morning nap.
Sometimes it also helps to put pressure on the spot where the tooth is about to pop out. Of course, sometimes that makes it all worse. What I wouldn't give for a neon sign floating above her head that indicates what tactic will make her feel better at any given time.
I hope we figure out how to deal with the teething thing more efficiently so that we can make her more comfortable for the rest of the teethies.
BTW, we keep updating the online photo albums, so check them out. Much cuteness abounds.
Lately it's become difficult for her to even nurse through the pain. Sometimes the Tylenol has worn off enough that right in the middle of nursing she pulls away and shrieks. It seems that switching to the pacifier for a few minutes (safe for chewing on, unlike Mom) while keeping her in whatever position we're in usually results in her calming down and working her gums enough that she's able to go back to nursing without too much additional fuss. At least I hope that's how it's working. We just did that this morning and I was finally able to get enough milk in her to get her to her morning nap.
Sometimes it also helps to put pressure on the spot where the tooth is about to pop out. Of course, sometimes that makes it all worse. What I wouldn't give for a neon sign floating above her head that indicates what tactic will make her feel better at any given time.
I hope we figure out how to deal with the teething thing more efficiently so that we can make her more comfortable for the rest of the teethies.
BTW, we keep updating the online photo albums, so check them out. Much cuteness abounds.
Tuesday, November 1, 2005
It had to happen sometime...
Not ten minutes after I thought, "Gee, Gaz hasn't pooped much at all today. Maybe she's saving it all for Mom and Dad tonight," it happened. I'd just fed her, so I waited through the first one. Yup, there's more. Ok, I'll wait till the next commercial and change her then.
Suddenly, all heck broke loose. She overflowed the diaper, and then my lap too. All over herself, me, and the couch. Even the size 3 diapers could not contain the wrath of Gaz. ::sigh::
To make matters worse, I had shorts in my stash of emergency clothes, but not pants. Fortunately Roger was giving me a ride home today, and was kind enough to bring me pants.
The moral of this story? Put a cloth diaper under her butt for feeding, as well as under her chin. Baby goo can come from both ends. You have been warned.
Suddenly, all heck broke loose. She overflowed the diaper, and then my lap too. All over herself, me, and the couch. Even the size 3 diapers could not contain the wrath of Gaz. ::sigh::
To make matters worse, I had shorts in my stash of emergency clothes, but not pants. Fortunately Roger was giving me a ride home today, and was kind enough to bring me pants.
The moral of this story? Put a cloth diaper under her butt for feeding, as well as under her chin. Baby goo can come from both ends. You have been warned.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Umm. . .
Nineteen pounds, ladies and gents. Ninteen!
Hopefully the Ultimate Baby Wrap will work its magic so that Lisa doesn't end up with damaged arms or anything of the sort from holding beefy Gazes all day long.
Side note: when I was showing Gaz "the baby in the mirror" while I demonstrated how comfy and secure the aforementioned UBW is, I saw the beginnings of understanding dawning on my daughter: the momma in the mirror is the same one who talks behind her, and the "other" baby is . . . well, one step at a time. It was hilarious and amazing to watch her go from staring at me in the mirror to trying to twist her head around to see me, like she wondering how I could be in two places at once.
Very cool. It's the science experiment that keeps on giving.
Hopefully the Ultimate Baby Wrap will work its magic so that Lisa doesn't end up with damaged arms or anything of the sort from holding beefy Gazes all day long.
Side note: when I was showing Gaz "the baby in the mirror" while I demonstrated how comfy and secure the aforementioned UBW is, I saw the beginnings of understanding dawning on my daughter: the momma in the mirror is the same one who talks behind her, and the "other" baby is . . . well, one step at a time. It was hilarious and amazing to watch her go from staring at me in the mirror to trying to twist her head around to see me, like she wondering how I could be in two places at once.
Very cool. It's the science experiment that keeps on giving.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
'twasn't long at all
Last night Gaz decided to roll from her tummy to her back! It was very cool. She looked a bit confused; it was hard to tell if she was more bewildered by the rolling or my carrying on about the rolling.
Anyway, pictures were taken and can be viewed here.
We haven't been able to capture the teething angst yet, but never fear. We have a 1GB card in the digital camera.
Anyway, pictures were taken and can be viewed here.
We haven't been able to capture the teething angst yet, but never fear. We have a 1GB card in the digital camera.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Turn, turn, turn
As if the month wasn't full of enough growing madness already, I believe it won't be long before Miss Gaz is rolling from back to tummy. Now that she's found her toes, she's often found in a rolly-polly sort of ball, toes in hand and listing this way and that every time she turns her head. I watched her roll from her back to her right side while she napped this morning. I'm sure the rest of the rolling will happen soon.
Monday, October 17, 2005
giant baby attack
Did I say that she's wearing 6 month clothes? Make that 6 - 9 month clothes. The 9 mo. stuff is a little baggy, but just a little. Next month that stuff should fit fine. I'm also just realizing that we don't have enough fall/winter clothes, including things like pants. Thanks to a recent visit from Grandma Cel and Grandpa Charley, we now have trousers! We had to go to the boys' section to find pants without tons of embroidery, but we've got green cargo pants and khaki cords and jeans and, of course, camoflage! Also cardigans and hoodies and other things in unisex colors. We're hoping our next one is a boy, and we're not the only ones in the family hoping for a boy so I figure I'm shopping for the future just as much as I'm shopping today. Don't fret. She's wicked cute whatever she's wearing.
I just can't believe how big she is. Especially since she's now beginning to teethe. You read that right. She's developing so fast it's about enough to make a gal dizzy.
I just can't believe how big she is. Especially since she's now beginning to teethe. You read that right. She's developing so fast it's about enough to make a gal dizzy.
Sunday, October 16, 2005
Gaz at the Zoo!
Sunday we took a little trip down to the Lincoln Park Zoo. It was a lovely autumn day. Gaz loved the black and white tamarins and leopards but pretty much ignored the rest of the animals. She fell asleep just in time for us to find the children's zoo area (a recent addition) then we all had popcorn and went home.
One interesting thing--it was breastfeeding day at the zoo. Gaz needed to refuel twice, we saw another lady near the seals, and in the new ape house there was a breastfeeding couple among the chimpanzees. It's almost as if the universe was saying "I condone public breastfeeding!" At least that's what I like to think. I'm getting more comfortable nursing her away from the comfortable pillows at home. I've got to start feeding her sans support cushions at home every now and again so I don't have so much of that initial awkwardness as I try to remember how I did it last time.
If you ever need a good laugh and have a baby handy, try to get your hands on some baby sunglasses. I swear my daughter looks like Bono. It's hilarious.
One interesting thing--it was breastfeeding day at the zoo. Gaz needed to refuel twice, we saw another lady near the seals, and in the new ape house there was a breastfeeding couple among the chimpanzees. It's almost as if the universe was saying "I condone public breastfeeding!" At least that's what I like to think. I'm getting more comfortable nursing her away from the comfortable pillows at home. I've got to start feeding her sans support cushions at home every now and again so I don't have so much of that initial awkwardness as I try to remember how I did it last time.
If you ever need a good laugh and have a baby handy, try to get your hands on some baby sunglasses. I swear my daughter looks like Bono. It's hilarious.
Wednesday, October 5, 2005
Mr. Stumpy is Dead! Long Live Mr. Stumpy!
Today Mr. Stumpy, Gaz's beloved umbilical cord stump, was painted with silver nitrate. He just wouldn't leave on his own due to Gaz's belly button having sunk in faster than we expected so that it was impossible to keep the bottom of Mr. Stumpy completely dry. Dr. C. said that Gaz just wanted to keep her ticket so she could get back in. Well, about seven hours after the silver nitrate, Mr. Stumpy popped right off! Our baby has a genine bona fide unmarred belly button now for all to apreciate as one of the cutest tiny belly buttons in the world.
Monday, October 3, 2005
blog interrupted
Imagine that--tending to an infant taking up all a person's spare time! Such is life these days. Gaz continues to eat up hours and hours, and all she has to do is be cute in order to get me to drop everything else for her. That or cry, but we try to keep that to a minimum.
She's two months old as of yesterday and she's quite the large child. She just weighed in at 14 pounds 14 ounces today and she's 25" long now. She's currently wearing mostly 6 month size clothes and stage two diapers if anyone is considering buying anything for her. I've already started a box for the clothes she's grown out of and then had to upgrade to a larger box. I know we didn't get her in everything we were given, but I had no idea that she would (a) be so big at birth or (b) grow this fast. Hopefully there are some more girls waiting to be born into the family somewhere that can use some of this stuff.
So basically Gaz is wonderful, all hugeness aside. She smiles and giggles and coos, especially first thing in the morning when I'm changing her diaper. The gal loves her brief naked time. Her waking up so happy makes those few days when she's generally inconsolable easier to take. I can't remember or imagine life without her now; she's taken over my higher brain functions and I don't care one whit. I'm beginning to wonder if the reason I never had any particularly monumental career ambitions is because some part of me knew that this was going to be the really important work for me. I still love being a secretary and I really, really love copyediting, but if given the option I would choose Gaz over everything. If only that job paid.
I went back to my part-time office job last week and it was pretty rough on me. Gaz fared better, although for a while she was dead set on not taking the bottle from Babysitter Lisa. Now that she seems to have figured out that she can get milk out of a bottle when Mama's not around, hopefully she'll develop a more normal apetite. I pump on the days I'm away from home enough to keep my milk supply up and since Gaz hasn't been taking bottles well I've been filling the freezer with bags of expressed milk.
Right now she's sleeping off the angst of having four shots this morning and I'm trying to maybe catch up on email and blogging. I'm going to go back and fill in some of the blanks now, like with labor and delivery and such. Soon I'll be sleeping off the angst of trying to figure out where to get a flu shot. Tis the season.
She's two months old as of yesterday and she's quite the large child. She just weighed in at 14 pounds 14 ounces today and she's 25" long now. She's currently wearing mostly 6 month size clothes and stage two diapers if anyone is considering buying anything for her. I've already started a box for the clothes she's grown out of and then had to upgrade to a larger box. I know we didn't get her in everything we were given, but I had no idea that she would (a) be so big at birth or (b) grow this fast. Hopefully there are some more girls waiting to be born into the family somewhere that can use some of this stuff.
So basically Gaz is wonderful, all hugeness aside. She smiles and giggles and coos, especially first thing in the morning when I'm changing her diaper. The gal loves her brief naked time. Her waking up so happy makes those few days when she's generally inconsolable easier to take. I can't remember or imagine life without her now; she's taken over my higher brain functions and I don't care one whit. I'm beginning to wonder if the reason I never had any particularly monumental career ambitions is because some part of me knew that this was going to be the really important work for me. I still love being a secretary and I really, really love copyediting, but if given the option I would choose Gaz over everything. If only that job paid.
I went back to my part-time office job last week and it was pretty rough on me. Gaz fared better, although for a while she was dead set on not taking the bottle from Babysitter Lisa. Now that she seems to have figured out that she can get milk out of a bottle when Mama's not around, hopefully she'll develop a more normal apetite. I pump on the days I'm away from home enough to keep my milk supply up and since Gaz hasn't been taking bottles well I've been filling the freezer with bags of expressed milk.
Right now she's sleeping off the angst of having four shots this morning and I'm trying to maybe catch up on email and blogging. I'm going to go back and fill in some of the blanks now, like with labor and delivery and such. Soon I'll be sleeping off the angst of trying to figure out where to get a flu shot. Tis the season.
Tuesday, August 2, 2005
a Gaz is born
It all began with contractions, a very sleepless night, and some vomiting.
I had gotten used to always being warm because, well, I was hugely pregnant. On July 31st, a Sunday, I was especially miserable. I felt weird, I was throwing up, and I couldn't pee to save my life. Turns out I likely had a urinary tract infection, but I didn't know it at the time. I spent most of the night lying on the couch (the better to race to the bathroom)and groaning.
Monday morning my contractions were getting more regular, so after consulting with one of the doctors in my OB's office I went to the hospital. The checked me out, found that I had a fever, was dehydrated, and Gaz's heartbeat was elevated. I was scheduled to check in to the hospital the next evening for induction (1 week past due + my high blood pressure = a nice, unnatural induced labor, apparently), so they admitted me early. I was given plenty of IV fluids and, when that alone did not relieve my fever, antibiotics. Then came the pitocin and breaking my bag-of-waters, the latter of which revealed meconium stained fluid--Gaz had crapped fetal crap, which usually happens when the baby is distressed. I was told that they would try to keep her from crying at first and I wouldn't be able to see her immediately after birth, as she would need to be examined by some special doctors who would suction her lungs to make sure she didnt' breathe any crap in. I was upset, but you can't really argue with wanting to make sure the baby is healthy.
Hours passed and the pitocin contractions on top of back labor were killing me, despite trying all the tricks we knew (back massage, changing positions, birth ball). How much had I progressed? A grand total of half a centimeter beyond where I was dialated when I first got to the triage floor. Enter the epidural. Yes Mr. Anesthesiologist, the epidural I said I didn't want four hours earlier. I can't describe the pain, but every woman who has ever been unmedicated while getting pitocin knows what I mean. Now we're into Monday afternoon and now I can finally doze a little off and on. I'm a complete mess, covered in sticky green amniotic fluid underneath my thin hospital blanket. I'm cold and I'm hot and I sometimes get IV bags changed or more antibiotics or someone checks my progress.
At 11:00 or so Monday night I was at 7 cm. When I hadn't gone beyond that point around 4 or 5 Tuesday morning, my doctor suggested that it might be time for a Cesarian. We could continue with the pitocin, but there was no guarantee that it would make anything happen and there was no guarantee that Gaz's vitals would continue to stay as good as they were. By this point I had had my epidural refueled twice, and the last dose had all but made my legs comepletely useless. If my labor did manage to progress, I would have had a seriously hard time pushing. Considering how messed up things had been up to this point with my blood pressure, the infection, the dehydration, and Gaz passing meconium, I opted for the quickest route to getting Gaz out of my uterine bastille. Mark was upset--I might have been upset if I hadn't been so exhausted--but we talked through why this was the lesser of who knows how many evils.
I was wheeled out of my room to get prepped and Mark and my mom got all our stuff organized. He was going to be with me in the OR and Mom settled into the waiting room with our luggage and accoutrements. I did get to see him don his fancy biohazard suit thing, and I had him stuff his pockets with our camera and my spectacles.
I was transferred to a very tiny table in the very cold OR. I couldn't help everyone move me, my legs being like unto giant pieces of cooked spaghetti, but I giggled along with my nurse when my legs kept falling off the table. They were finally wrapped in blankets and strapped down, then my IVs were sorted out and both my arms were strapped down. I asked if I was being restrained so I didn't slap Mark, and was told that it was to make sure I didn't try to "help." I still wonder how many women try to "help."
Mark finally was brought in to sit by my head. I don't remember what we talked about now, but we might have made references to the final episode of Coupling. I could feel things happening, but couldn't feel any pain.
At 6:11 AM on the morning of Tuesday, August 2nd, Gaz came out and didn't care what the doctors wanted--she announced to us all that she was out and breathing. She also peed all the way out, apparently. She was moved nearby to be suctioned and cleaned up. I had told Mark that as soon as he was able to, he had to go greet her for the both of us and so he did, taking pictures and helping give her her first bath.
I, meanwhile, was getting very sleepy and losing a lot of blood. There were a nurse and an anesthesiologist by my head who were trying to start another line on my right arm. I guess someone finally decided that I might need some blood and they better be ready. They blew a vein in my right hand and bruised the hell out of my inner arm before getting a catheter set in the bend of my elbow. It turns out that I didn't need any blood, of course.
Mark brought Gaz over to see me when she was at last all clean and swaddled. He even held her over by my hand so she could hold one of my fingers. It was then, as I was laying there looking lovingly at my precious daughter that I felt I had to throw up. I turned my head the other way, toward the nurse, and barfed up this foul-tasting stuff I had been given earlier that was supposed to neutralize my stomach acid and keep me from throwing up. It tasted no better for it's having been in my stomach for an hour or so.
I finally got to hold Gaz in the recovery room. I was so exhausted I kept almost falling asleep with her in my arms. But I was finally able to give her a good look and give her her first shot at nursing (after she first had to be given a certain amount of formula to combat low blood sugar, as apparently is often the case with large babies).
It took us forever to be allowed up onto the postnatal floor since the anesthesiologists had to debate what painkiller I was going to be allowed to have in light of my blood loss (I ended up with Fentanyl), but we eventually got to go rest, all of us together.
I had gotten used to always being warm because, well, I was hugely pregnant. On July 31st, a Sunday, I was especially miserable. I felt weird, I was throwing up, and I couldn't pee to save my life. Turns out I likely had a urinary tract infection, but I didn't know it at the time. I spent most of the night lying on the couch (the better to race to the bathroom)and groaning.
Monday morning my contractions were getting more regular, so after consulting with one of the doctors in my OB's office I went to the hospital. The checked me out, found that I had a fever, was dehydrated, and Gaz's heartbeat was elevated. I was scheduled to check in to the hospital the next evening for induction (1 week past due + my high blood pressure = a nice, unnatural induced labor, apparently), so they admitted me early. I was given plenty of IV fluids and, when that alone did not relieve my fever, antibiotics. Then came the pitocin and breaking my bag-of-waters, the latter of which revealed meconium stained fluid--Gaz had crapped fetal crap, which usually happens when the baby is distressed. I was told that they would try to keep her from crying at first and I wouldn't be able to see her immediately after birth, as she would need to be examined by some special doctors who would suction her lungs to make sure she didnt' breathe any crap in. I was upset, but you can't really argue with wanting to make sure the baby is healthy.
Hours passed and the pitocin contractions on top of back labor were killing me, despite trying all the tricks we knew (back massage, changing positions, birth ball). How much had I progressed? A grand total of half a centimeter beyond where I was dialated when I first got to the triage floor. Enter the epidural. Yes Mr. Anesthesiologist, the epidural I said I didn't want four hours earlier. I can't describe the pain, but every woman who has ever been unmedicated while getting pitocin knows what I mean. Now we're into Monday afternoon and now I can finally doze a little off and on. I'm a complete mess, covered in sticky green amniotic fluid underneath my thin hospital blanket. I'm cold and I'm hot and I sometimes get IV bags changed or more antibiotics or someone checks my progress.
At 11:00 or so Monday night I was at 7 cm. When I hadn't gone beyond that point around 4 or 5 Tuesday morning, my doctor suggested that it might be time for a Cesarian. We could continue with the pitocin, but there was no guarantee that it would make anything happen and there was no guarantee that Gaz's vitals would continue to stay as good as they were. By this point I had had my epidural refueled twice, and the last dose had all but made my legs comepletely useless. If my labor did manage to progress, I would have had a seriously hard time pushing. Considering how messed up things had been up to this point with my blood pressure, the infection, the dehydration, and Gaz passing meconium, I opted for the quickest route to getting Gaz out of my uterine bastille. Mark was upset--I might have been upset if I hadn't been so exhausted--but we talked through why this was the lesser of who knows how many evils.
I was wheeled out of my room to get prepped and Mark and my mom got all our stuff organized. He was going to be with me in the OR and Mom settled into the waiting room with our luggage and accoutrements. I did get to see him don his fancy biohazard suit thing, and I had him stuff his pockets with our camera and my spectacles.
I was transferred to a very tiny table in the very cold OR. I couldn't help everyone move me, my legs being like unto giant pieces of cooked spaghetti, but I giggled along with my nurse when my legs kept falling off the table. They were finally wrapped in blankets and strapped down, then my IVs were sorted out and both my arms were strapped down. I asked if I was being restrained so I didn't slap Mark, and was told that it was to make sure I didn't try to "help." I still wonder how many women try to "help."
Mark finally was brought in to sit by my head. I don't remember what we talked about now, but we might have made references to the final episode of Coupling. I could feel things happening, but couldn't feel any pain.
At 6:11 AM on the morning of Tuesday, August 2nd, Gaz came out and didn't care what the doctors wanted--she announced to us all that she was out and breathing. She also peed all the way out, apparently. She was moved nearby to be suctioned and cleaned up. I had told Mark that as soon as he was able to, he had to go greet her for the both of us and so he did, taking pictures and helping give her her first bath.
I, meanwhile, was getting very sleepy and losing a lot of blood. There were a nurse and an anesthesiologist by my head who were trying to start another line on my right arm. I guess someone finally decided that I might need some blood and they better be ready. They blew a vein in my right hand and bruised the hell out of my inner arm before getting a catheter set in the bend of my elbow. It turns out that I didn't need any blood, of course.
Mark brought Gaz over to see me when she was at last all clean and swaddled. He even held her over by my hand so she could hold one of my fingers. It was then, as I was laying there looking lovingly at my precious daughter that I felt I had to throw up. I turned my head the other way, toward the nurse, and barfed up this foul-tasting stuff I had been given earlier that was supposed to neutralize my stomach acid and keep me from throwing up. It tasted no better for it's having been in my stomach for an hour or so.
I finally got to hold Gaz in the recovery room. I was so exhausted I kept almost falling asleep with her in my arms. But I was finally able to give her a good look and give her her first shot at nursing (after she first had to be given a certain amount of formula to combat low blood sugar, as apparently is often the case with large babies).
It took us forever to be allowed up onto the postnatal floor since the anesthesiologists had to debate what painkiller I was going to be allowed to have in light of my blood loss (I ended up with Fentanyl), but we eventually got to go rest, all of us together.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Three days late
Well, the child is slow in coming out. We keep telling her the coast is clear, but I may have said "cheese it, it's the cops!" one too many times within the past nine months. Last night, while watching Queer Eye with Mom, Gaz was doing a little jitterbug and seemed to be protesting the cramped state of her present accommodations. I keep telling her that there's much more space on the other side of the womb. Keep your fingers crossed that she heard me and that an escape plan (preferably a speedy one that doesn't involve drugs or scalpels) is amenable to her.
For the past few days I've been gingerly going about a toned-down version of my daily life, saying all the time ". . . provided Gaz doesn't show up today. . ." Well, that approach just makes me irritated that she's not out yet, so now I'm back to making evening plans (not much outside the house, but I'm starting things I know I can't finish in one night now, like knitting a Mobius scarf) and generally looking at the world like Gaz is going to be in utero until her induction date of August 3rd.
One of these days there will actually be a little someone to comment on here. 'Til then, stay tuned.
For the past few days I've been gingerly going about a toned-down version of my daily life, saying all the time ". . . provided Gaz doesn't show up today. . ." Well, that approach just makes me irritated that she's not out yet, so now I'm back to making evening plans (not much outside the house, but I'm starting things I know I can't finish in one night now, like knitting a Mobius scarf) and generally looking at the world like Gaz is going to be in utero until her induction date of August 3rd.
One of these days there will actually be a little someone to comment on here. 'Til then, stay tuned.
Monday, July 11, 2005
drive-by
Just cruising by since it's been so long. The fetus continues to gestate, although she could make her grand entrance (or exit, depending on perspective) any day now. We continue to be textbooky in our progression.
I've decided that this will be the kid journal so that friends and relatives can peek in on our silly little postnatal lives. I'm sure it will be a hoot for all (except me, as I'm sure I'll be exposing my embarassing mamma goofs here more often than not). For blogging purposes, our daughter's name shall be Gaz (actually, that's one of the nicknames she's acquired so far). There will probably be pictures, too. We're having a keen time with our new digital camera, but we have yet to attempt to move pictures from the camera to the computer, so please don't hold your breath. We're notoriously slow about anything involving the computer these days.
The past few months I've given up Aztec dance, at first because I found myself with a lot of freelance work to do (We'd still go to dance, but I'd sit on the sidelines and copyedit while Mark danced for the lot of us), and eventually because my legs don't bend so well when they're swollen to roughly twice their normal size. We've just touched base with our compadres this weekend, though, and judging by how hard it was not to dance along with them even in my bloated and lumpy shape, I'll be back to that as soon as Gaz is out and the doctor gives me the all clear for hopping about again. For those who lack similar perspective, I can honestly say that dancing in the full heat of summer for an hour or two at a pop is much more taxing than simply being pregnant in the summer. So don't cry for me, Argentina; I continue to hold up reasonably well.
The novel has also been back-burnered in favor of knitting and an endless search for the quintessential banana bread recipe. I finished a shawl I started last year (for myself) and I've nearly done with the second chenille hat for Gaz. The first one is much too large for a newborn and I found some other chenille in one of my many yarn bags, so I started another. After this I may just go back to being a lazy bum, though, as I've managed to strain one particular muscle in my arm with the knitting. Don't ask how, I'm really not sure. I can tell you that it definitely doesn't feel all that great. And I'm not sure what my deal is with banana bread all of a sudden. Even the brick that was my first attempt at the stuff didn't taste bad, so long as there was a lot of coffee on hand to help wash down the unbearable dryness of it. Always check to make sure you've got enough all-purpose flour, because whole wheat is just mean in banana bread. At least the way I made it.
I've decided that this will be the kid journal so that friends and relatives can peek in on our silly little postnatal lives. I'm sure it will be a hoot for all (except me, as I'm sure I'll be exposing my embarassing mamma goofs here more often than not). For blogging purposes, our daughter's name shall be Gaz (actually, that's one of the nicknames she's acquired so far). There will probably be pictures, too. We're having a keen time with our new digital camera, but we have yet to attempt to move pictures from the camera to the computer, so please don't hold your breath. We're notoriously slow about anything involving the computer these days.
The past few months I've given up Aztec dance, at first because I found myself with a lot of freelance work to do (We'd still go to dance, but I'd sit on the sidelines and copyedit while Mark danced for the lot of us), and eventually because my legs don't bend so well when they're swollen to roughly twice their normal size. We've just touched base with our compadres this weekend, though, and judging by how hard it was not to dance along with them even in my bloated and lumpy shape, I'll be back to that as soon as Gaz is out and the doctor gives me the all clear for hopping about again. For those who lack similar perspective, I can honestly say that dancing in the full heat of summer for an hour or two at a pop is much more taxing than simply being pregnant in the summer. So don't cry for me, Argentina; I continue to hold up reasonably well.
The novel has also been back-burnered in favor of knitting and an endless search for the quintessential banana bread recipe. I finished a shawl I started last year (for myself) and I've nearly done with the second chenille hat for Gaz. The first one is much too large for a newborn and I found some other chenille in one of my many yarn bags, so I started another. After this I may just go back to being a lazy bum, though, as I've managed to strain one particular muscle in my arm with the knitting. Don't ask how, I'm really not sure. I can tell you that it definitely doesn't feel all that great. And I'm not sure what my deal is with banana bread all of a sudden. Even the brick that was my first attempt at the stuff didn't taste bad, so long as there was a lot of coffee on hand to help wash down the unbearable dryness of it. Always check to make sure you've got enough all-purpose flour, because whole wheat is just mean in banana bread. At least the way I made it.
Monday, February 21, 2005
No, I'm really quite absent
It's true that I am hardly ever here. I'll figure out a use for this thing one day.
I'm working on a novel. It started out as a NaNoWriMo effort, but that was a short-lived affair due to my finding out about half-way through November that I was pregnant. Now that the fetus is not sucking quite as much energy from me as it used to, I'm back to work on the writing. The novel does have an actual honest-to-Mike working title, but I prefer to refer to it by it's nickname: Celine Dion's Gratitude Journal, an homage to a post on my current favorite blog, Chez Miscarriage.
Otherwise, I'm probably working at that beloved day job, knitting, trying to convince the cat that he doesn't really want to break our USB hub, acquiring new furniture/rugs/appliances for the apartment, or lounging around watching Dark Shadows DVDs and doing crossword puzzles.
In other words, I'm just about as busy as I need to be.
I'm working on a novel. It started out as a NaNoWriMo effort, but that was a short-lived affair due to my finding out about half-way through November that I was pregnant. Now that the fetus is not sucking quite as much energy from me as it used to, I'm back to work on the writing. The novel does have an actual honest-to-Mike working title, but I prefer to refer to it by it's nickname: Celine Dion's Gratitude Journal, an homage to a post on my current favorite blog, Chez Miscarriage.
Otherwise, I'm probably working at that beloved day job, knitting, trying to convince the cat that he doesn't really want to break our USB hub, acquiring new furniture/rugs/appliances for the apartment, or lounging around watching Dark Shadows DVDs and doing crossword puzzles.
In other words, I'm just about as busy as I need to be.
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