Whoever designed my laptop obviously does not have kids

WHY would one make the power button on an otherwise dull, black laptop key pad BIG, ROUND, SILVER, and SHINY?

At least once a day Bean is drawn to its sparkly siren song and MUST press it. Sometimes I think I've stopped her in time, but my screen betrays me with its "PREPARING TO HIBERNATE" message...and whatever I had been working on is gone.

Thanks, Sony.

Transcript 5

8 AM Monday morning...

Hubby: How are you?

Me: Ugh. Bean was up four times last night, and I've been up since 5. I feel like a zombie.

Hubby: Well, you look pretty good for a zombie. You can eat my brain any time.

And then, under his breath, as he walked away: Though you probably wouldn't get much of a meal...

New words, continued...

More words to add to Bean's Lexicon:


Blah: "Bless you," uttered nonchalantly after someone sneezes
Bah: bath or belly or back
Bahbaaaah: bye bye
Bah bun: belly button
Bub-bub: bubbles
Clicking sound: cookie/cracker
Dan-da: Santa
Daw: dog
Deuce: juice
Doo: door
Doost: toast
Duh: done
Huh: hat
Mahgramma: my grandma
Me: mine
Pee...PEE! (no translation needed)
Tee: teeth
Twos: toes
Wawa (making "w" on her chin with her fingers): Water
Wawa: waffle
Waaaah: walk

Bean, Bean the Drama Queen

Lately Bean has been crying off and on when I put her down. For instance, when she wakes up in the morning, she wants to be held and held and held....but sometimes a momma has things to do! So the other day, I set her down, and she cried. I knew that once she distracted herself with a toy or a book she'd be fine. So I got to work on my laptop, watching her out of the corner of my eye. She stopped crying, got up, and walked past me and into the bathroom. She loves to open the drawers and play with the brushes and combs, so I didn't think much of it.

Seconds later, she emerged holding three squares of toilet paper, drying her tears.

It was the cutest thing I've ever seen - my little 15-month-old Bean, playing it up like Sarah Bernhardt.

Beanoween

Isn't it funny how we force our toddlers into holidays like Halloween that they just don't get? Bean looked adorable in her kangaroo costume, of course, but she didn't get it. She wasn't into trick-or-treating, she doesn't eat candy (yet...), and the costume parade at her daycare just confused her and the other kids and created a lot of aggravation for the teachers.

But we parents had a blast! I guess Halloween is just for us for the first couple years...we live vicariously through our beans while we can.

And by "live vicariously" I mean "eat all her candy." Sigh.

"Bah" is for Bean

Bean has been talking up a storm lately. Her first word, of course, was "Dada," followed soon after by "Mum-mum." Then she came out with "up." She stuck with those three words for quite a while. Not too long ago we realized that, though she may not say much yet, she actually understands most of what we say to her.

It's funny - you talk to your baby constantly: "Hi little Bean.....let's go get dressed...time to change your diaper....here's your breakfast....say hi to Daddy!" And most of the time it's a one way conversation. But then there comes a day when you say, "OK, lay down so Mommy can put on your jammies!" and she lays down. Or you say, "Do you want to go play outside?" and she gets very excited and high-tails it to the back door. It's also funny that she has selective hearing: she hears "Want to have a snack?" loud and clear, but somehow "Don't climb the stairs!" doesn't resonate.

Anyway, lately she's also been adding a lot of words to her vocabulary; this week I think she added a new word every day. Here's her current lexicon:

Bah-bah: bottle / sippy cup
Bah: ball / bowl / bath / bye / belly, depending on the context
Bah-na: banana
Bab: bib
Beh-beeee: baby

Cuh: car
Coo: school

Dah: duck
DuhDuh, daaaah: Daddy
Duh.....pah: diaper

Grrrrrr: truck (I guess that's the sound a truck makes? LOL)

Hi!

Ma: MooMoo (the dog) / more
Mum-mum: Mommy

Nack: snack
Nuh-nuh: Dinner

Puh: pig

Yeah, yeah!

Oh, and she LOVES to talk on the phone (unless of course there's actually someone on the other end, in which case she's struck mute).

Breastfeeding can save a mom's life

I came upon Angela White's excellent blog recently: http://www.breastfeeding123.com/.

Of the many interesting posts, one really surprised me. It contained the quote below, which was sourced from a Cornell University fact sheet.

“Although there are a few studies that report a decrease in the risk of breast cancer after only three or more months of breast-feeding, the evidence for risk reduction becomes more consistent the longer women breast-feed. The most consistent evidence of a relationship between breast-feeding and the risk of breast cancer has been reported in studies of Chinese women who breast-fed for long periods of time. In these studies, women who breast-fed for a total of six years or more (all children combined) over the course of their lives had as much as a 63% decrease in breast cancer incidence compared to women who never breast-fed.”

I've blogged about the benefits of breastfeeding for both mother and child before, but I was alarmed by this particular statistic. 63% is a HUGE decrease.

Being that October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, I hope this information gets more (or even some?) play in the media. I hope it will drive more women to breastfeed and to breastfeed longer - because, on top of the myriad other benefits of breastfeeding to mom and baby, it could save a woman's life.

We have lift off.

Figures! The very day I posted "Is she walking yet?" my little Bean took her first steps.

I realized afterwards that I always figured she'd first walk into my or her father's arms, urged on by our enthusiastic prompting, "C'mon, Bean! You can do it!" But not this girl! She had to do it all on her own.

She was hanging on to the couch with one hand and just took off toward her toy box. She didn't know I was watching her, and I don't think she realized what she was doing until she sat down about six steps later and I started clapping.

I was crying too, of course. Every time she reaches a milestone I pull out her baby album to reminisce for a while. Cripes, she's only 15 months old. What am I going to be like when she goes to kindergarten?

Anyway, she's been practicing her moves on and off since then, but she doesn't seem all that interested yet. I can hear the chorus of parents with older kids warning me: "Oh, just you wait!"

Sunday morning surprise

When I brought Bean downstairs Sunday morning (she was up and running at 6....what happened to 7, Beanie???), there was a weird smell in the air. It was quite putrid...that "the dog really needs a bath" smell. I figured I'd have Hubs wash the dog when he got up.

I put some coffee on while Bean played on the kitchen floor.

"Man, that smell is awful. C'mere Bean, let's go wake daddy up so he can give your silly dog a bath."

And then I saw it. Dog pee, ALL OVER the kitchen floor. It was partially dry so I didn't see it until I was at the right angle. Yes, that's right, the same floor Bean had just been crawling around and playing on.

Thank god my husband always takes care of these dog emergencies. He washed the floor and bathed the dog (who did have a case of swamp ass on top of the accident) while I gave Bean a bath.

What a nice way to start a Sunday.

Is she walking yet?

That's the question on everybody's lips now that Bean is 15 months old. The answer has remained the same since she turned a year old: Almost. She's been cruising around on the furniture for months now, and she'll even push a chair around the kitchen so she can get from end to the other while remaining upright.

Other than that, though, she's been quite content to crawl. This week, however, she's made some - ahem - new strides.

No longer resistant to the assisted walk, she'll now toddle around the house holding on to one of my or her daddy's fingers. And last night, she stood up from a sitting position without holding on to anything. She just stood there for a few seconds, then sat down again, pleased as punch with her accomplishment. Then, this morning, while standing up with the coffee table behind her, just in case, she made three steps into my arms.

Everyone always says, "Don't worry; she'll walk soon." I know she's on the late end of reaching this milestone, but I'm really not worried. She gets around quite efficiently now, and I know walking will just make her harder to catch. Plus I have these huge biceps from carrying her around everywhere... ;-)

Stay tuned: more updates to the walking chronicles to come...

Mom's Overture

This is priceless!

Beanie bites

I got the dreaded call from daycare this morning.

Daycare teacher: "Hi. Um... I just wanted to call to let you know that your Bean has bitten two kids this morning. If she bites again, she'll have to go home for the day."

Me: "Oh my!" I feigned feeling horrified, was a little embarrassed, but mostly wanted to laugh at the thought of that cute little bug bearing her fangs. "That's horrible. What can we do about it?"

DC: "Well, we told her 'no biting!' and then distracted her with a toy. It's a normal thing with toddlers, but we're required to call and let you know when this type of thing happens."

Me: "Are you sure she wasn't kissing her friends?" Because that's how she kisses: with her mouth wide open, engulfing your whole lip, eye ball, or nose in her drooly cuteness.

DC: "No, we checked; there were bite marks."

Damn!

This is the first time she's bitten....let's hope it's the last.

Honey, do

A few weeks ago I attended a mead making class with a good friend. Since mead is wine made with honey and yeast, the instructor also provided a lot of background information about honey before we got started. I was surprised to learn that it is a good source of B vitamins and has antibacterial qualities: it has low water molecule transport properties and is highly acidic, preventing the growth of microorganisms. You can use honey on cuts or an an antiseptic gargle, and some posit that eating locally harvested honey helps prevent seasonal allergies.

Bean has been sick this week: poor little bug has two ear infections, conjunctivitis, and a dry cough. Her doctor prescribed an antibiotic for the infections, but does not recommend using over-the-counter cold medicines to ease symptoms such as runny nose and cough until she's much older. And, indeed, there has been a lot of information in the news lately about the dangers associated with giving these readily available cold meds to babies and young children.

So I decided to put honey to the test to help Bean's cough. I dissolved a teaspoon of the golden sticky goodness in lukewarm water, and she stopped coughing after a couple sips. And of course she liked the taste. My hubby had a sore throat, so I made him a gargle with honey, lemon juice, and water, and that gave him some relief, too.

It's good to have this natural, inexpensive, safe remedy in my mommy arsenal. (Please note: honey is NOT safe for children under one year of age.)

Personally, I became addicted to honey while reading Sue Monk Kidd's The Secret Life of Bees, eating it by the spoonful straight from the jar. Do all those good qualities counteract the calories??? Judging by the size of my...hive...I'd guess not. ;-)

Quote of the day

From my hubby:

"Bean, that's not the kind of 'whine' that mommy likes."

Puttin' away the pump

I made it to a year. I'm still nursing my Bean two to three times a day, but the dreaded PUMP has been shelved until number two (if there is a number two) comes along. Actually, I shouldn't say "dreaded" pump - that wonderful device allowed me to feed my baby breastmilk even when we were apart.

When Bean was consuming the most - around the six month mark - it was quite satisfying to pump and get six to eight ounces, plus a couple more for the freezer. But once she was eleven months or so, I'd massage my breasts and vary the pump speed and drink mug after mug of lactation tea and try all sorts of tricks to increase the flow, only to eek out an ounce or two....hardly worth the time spent drawing the blinds, assembling the pieces, pumping for fifteen minutes, and then cleaning everything afterwards. It was taking me several pumping sessions just to make one bottle.

I don't think I realized that the last time I pumped would be THE last time. I don't miss it (the way I'm sure I'll miss nursing after Bean is weaned). And I REALLY don't miss pumping at work. Luckily, working from home 4+ days a week meant that the in-office pumping sessions weren't that frequent. Another bonus is that I have an office at work with a door and blinds, which makes it very easy to get the required privacy. My "Mommy things in progress; please come back in 10 minutes" sign and the hum and whir of my pump behind the closed door raised some eyebrows (oh well). My boss is a dad, and I know he supports my breastfeeding efforts; but I also know that the thought of or the sight of my pump makes him uncomfortable (to which I shrug my shoulders and keep on pumpin' - it's my daughter's health and well being at stake here, after all).

Anyway, it's a relief to not have to lug the pump into the office, find 20 minutes three times a day, stash the little bottles in the community fridge, and then make the 1.25 hour drive home with them on ice.

So, while I'm glad to be done with my pump, I also am immensely grateful to the thing. It allowed me to meet my breastfeeding goals and keep my Bean healthy while working full time and even having a (very) occasional night out. And for that, it's worth its weight in (white) gold.

One year.

My Bean is a year old. That a year has passed since she came into our lives is incomprehensible.

In this one year Bean has...

- Nursed herself from just under 8 to 20 pounds
- Learned to hold her head up
- Learned to roll over, first back to front, then front to back
- Learned to sit up
- Been extremely healthy
- Made a best friend in her silly dog Moomoo
- Learned to sleep through the night
- Brought joy to everyone who knows her
- Smiled and laughed more than she's cried
- Eaten and thoroughly enjoyed a wide variety of foods
- Spit up 8,374 times
- Learned to roll from one end of the room to another
- Learned that crawling is a more efficient mode of transport
- Had her picture taken by mom/dad at least a million times
- Cut three and a half teeth
- Learned to say "Dad-dee" and "Mum-mum" and "up" and "yeah"
- Developed an obsession with the dog's food dish and several other off-limits items
- Discovered a whole new world in her view as she pulls up on the furniture
- Taken a few hundred walks in her stroller
- Outgrown three huge bins of little pink clothes
- Cultivated a belly laugh that sounds exactly like her dad's
- Finger painted (her paper, high chair, shirt, face, hair)
- Learned to say "Aaaaah" (and then crack up) after drinking from her sippy cup
- Decided that mom's car keys, cell phone, and lap top are her very favorite toys

I too have learned a few things in this short year...and have experienced more joy (and less sleep?) than in all my other years combined. I still haven't lost the baby weight (not even close), some days I don't find time to shower, my house is in a state of perpetual disarray and dog-hair-infestation, and I bitch at my hubby (and the poor dog) way too much. But all in all I'm proud of what I've accomplished in this one year. Parenthood is challenging, exhausting, selfless, dirty, frustrating, and downright wonderful. And the Bean amazes me and melts my heart on a daily basis. On to year two!

Family vacation

We're on our first official family vacation with Bean: a week at the lake. I love being a mom. I love my family. Life is good.

Ode to my....Swiffer WetJet

Need I say more? I never realized how DISGUSTING my hard wood and linoleum floors were until my Bean started crawling. Granted, we have a very hairy dog, and keeping up with her shedding is a never-ending struggle. But I thought vacuuming twice a week would do the trick. Nope. It seems like no matter how hard we try to keep the floors vacced and scrubbed, the baby's knees are dirty and she's covered in those DAMN fine black hairs.


So I've attacked the problem with my Swiffer WetJet. I feel guilty using it because it's such a waste - the bottles of liquid and batteries that need frequent replacing, the disposable pads that only last for on use, and on and on. But it's just so easy. Grab it, squirt squirt, clean clean. I've become a bit obsessed with the thing, using it whenever I have a spare moment. And you know what? That pad is always dirty when I'm done. Where does it COME from?

We're moving soon to a house with (incidentally) more carpet and less hardwood. Though I prefer the look of wood, I'm hoping the carpet is easier to keep clean. Or maybe the hairs and dust will cling to the rug instead of my Bean.

Ew.

Joy and zest

Bean is 11 months old now: crawling, babbling, screeching, and generally loving life. Everything she does is with utter joy and zest - whether it's exploring a new toy with her hands, feet, and mouth, making it to the other side of the room, splashing in the tub, or trying a new vegetable. I love to just sit and watch her. There is never a dull moment, and every second holds something new to be learned. What must it be like when EVERYTHING is new? My Bean is re-opening my eyes to things I see everyday but take for granted. I wish my memory was strong enough to remember every second.....every moment of her every day.

Mother's Day

I got an unexpected surprise when I picked the Bean off at daycare today: a Mother's Day gift in a pretty blue bag! The tag said, "Happy Momma's Day, Love Bean."

Mother's Day is 3 days away, but I couldn't resist taking a peek. Inside the bag was a flower pot with soil and seeds in a baggie. It was painted pink and covered in Bean's handprints in yellow paint. Along the top were the words "Watch Me Grow."

I cried when I saw it... I think it's the best gift I've ever received!

How time flies, and other cliches of parenting

Oh MAN have I been neglecting my blog! Sorry, dear readers (readers? are you out there?). Time seems to have gotten the better of me.

As for Bean updates, baby girl is 9 1/2 months old now, and more incredible every day. She's ALMOST crawling: creeping and rolling, getting on all fours....just hasn't quite put it all together yet. I'm in no hurry for her to turn over this milestone, I assure you - my house is anything but baby proofed. Even now I have all I can do to keep her from rolling face first into the dog's bum or getting covered in dust when she sneaks a leg under the entertainment center.

She is an old pro at eating solids, and nary a morsel has passed her lips that she hasn't devoured with unbridled curiosity and relish. What it must be like to taste beets for the first time, and peas, and peaches. (If only I could get my husband to eat his veggies the way his daughter does...)

Anyway, it seems like an eternity has passed since my last post, even though it's been less than a month. When you have a baby, other parents always tell you, "It goes fast." More accurate would be, "The days pass like minutes - and then she's one."

But nine months is a perfect age! She's happy most of the time, and when she's not, it's fairly easy to discover what's making her cranky and remedy it. She's not really mobile. She sleeps. She SLEEPS! I just want to freeze her where she is now and relish it, drink it in for a couple years, and then let her move on to 10, 11, and 12 months.

I suppose this is one reason why parents decide to have another baby - to relive those precious moments that fly so quickly past - if only for another brief moment.

...and five months ago I couldn't imagine EVER wanting to have another one...

Transcripts 3 and 4

Transcript 3:

4 AM.

Me: Ah, shit. She's awake.
Hubby: Give it a minute; she'll go back to sleep.
Me: It's been 5 minutes....she's wide awake.
Hubby, still half asleep: Febreeze.
Me, wide awake now: WHAT?
Hubby: Febreeze. Febreeze her.
Me: WHAT are you talking about?
Hubby: You know what I mean - do the Febreeze Method.
Me: Do you mean the FERBER method?
Hubby: Yeah, yeah. Whatever.

Transcript 4:

Bean pulls a new diaper from her diaper bag and starts gnawing on it.

Hubby: No, honey. Don't chew on that. You'll get dry mouth.

Previous transcripts

Spit stop

Oh, the spit up! I have blogged about it before in a light hearted way. I am no longer laughing. The volume and sheer force of the spit up have increased. It's every where. It's projectile. It's all over me/Bean/hubby/floor/car/Exersaucer/dog/my hair. It's constant. I can't take it any more!

OK, venting complete. *sigh*

I love my spitty Bean.

Bean's latest trick

Bean has always used a pacifier to fall asleep. Her preferred model is the green Soothie. We were all hoping she would eventually find her thumb as a method of self-soothing that didn't have to be replaced...at 12, 2, and 4 AM. That never happened. These days, though, she's adept at finding her Soothie when she needs it (and at falling back to sleep without it).

Interestingly enough, her latest trick combines the pacifier with thumb sucking: she puts her thumb inside the Soothie and sucks away. When she takes her thumb out, the pacifier stays stuck on there, for convenient access. It's too darn cute.

So as I was looking up the Soothie to include a link with this post, I discovered the Wannanub. How cute are those? I wish I knew about them before! I might have to order one now anyway... (What did moms do before the Internet?)

The ol' mare ain't what she used to be

So have you seen the new Suave commercial that claims, "89% of moms say they've let themselves go"?

It's a cute ad, and they're smart to target the harried mom demographic, but you know what, honey? It takes a lot more than a little Suave. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of myself reflected in the grocery store window and gasp, forced to look away in horror.

I was in Walmart the other day, chastising myself for being unable to silence the voice in my head from saying things like, "Oh, sweetheart, that is really not your color," or "Are you sure you need the double-size value pack of Snickers?" Now, I know I'm the last person who should throw stones, but my inner monologue remains evil.

Anyway, feeling quite superior having identified all that's wrong with the Sunday-afternoon Walmart crowd, I get home and look in the mirror. Hair: unwashed and nesty. Face: pasty white and in dire need of eyeliner, mascara, and maybe a little lip gloss. Sweatshirt: emblazoned with a HUGE, crusty, dried up patch of spit up. NICE.

Cruel irony aside, is it really that we moms have let ourselves go? Or are we just focusing on what's important?

I haven't quite decided. (But I need to re-read this post before I head off to Walmart again...or at least remember to check the mirror first.)

I heart DST

So, I was a bit concerned (i.e., obsessed) about how the Bean would react to her first Daylight Savings Time (DST). Since it was "spring" ahead, I figured she'd go to bed a little later and therefore sleep a little later at first, but I wasn't sure how it would all play out in the long run. As any parent of an infant knows, anything that messes with baby's sleep is, quite literally, a nightmare.

These days, Bean usually sleeps 7 PM - 6:30/7 AM. So, on the first night of DST I kept her up until close to 8, and she slept until about 8 the next morning. I gradually got her bedtime back to 7, but for the past two days she's still slept until 8! And she's had a two-hour nap instead of her usual one-hour nap each morning. (I'm knocking on wood with each keystroke...praying that the very act of putting this phenomenon in writing doesn't jinx me.)

I'm not sure if it's DST or a growth spurt or a passing fluke or...maybe, just maybe, she'll be a 7 PM - 8 AM baby. I know, I know, flying pigs and hell freezing over are not in the forecast for today. But this momma got two hours of work done before the Bean got up yesterday and stayed in bed until 8 today - and I'm holding on to the dream.

Good ol' H20

I realized something the other day as I indulged in a 15 minute, make-your-skin-red-it's-so-hot shower - such a luxury now - I never appreciated water until I got pregnant. I've always loved to swim, and of course I drink the stuff. But I developed a new appreciation for water once there was a Bean in my belly. Oh, the many ways water comforts:

1. Early pregnancy baths. I had 20 weeks of 24-hour-a-day nausea at the beginning of my pregnancy. The only time I felt well was when I was asleep....or taking a bath. Somehow the warm water relaxed me and took my mind off the swirling maelstrom in my stomach. In early pregnancy 'they' advise against bathing in water hotter than 100 degrees, and, being that it was winter, and I'm a tall woman with a small bath tub, these early baths were usually pretty chilly and therefore pretty short. But, nonetheless, they were worth it.

2. Second and third trimester hot tubs. I got big fast, and as a result had a lot of round ligament pain, which my midwife aptly described as feeling like "you're a Barbie doll that someone is ripping the rubbery legs off of" every time you walk or roll over in bed. After the first trimester, I was allowed to take a hot tub (still around 100 degrees, but at least now I could be immersed up to my neck). In the tub I was weightless and carefree. I felt wonderful. I could have stayed in there forever. My friends are tired of hearing me say, "Whatever you do - when you buy a house, make sure it has a hot tub or a whirlpool tub that you can submerge your pregnant belly in." Regardless of whether you have discomfort during pregnancy, being weightless - even for a short time - is heaven.

3. Water birth. Even though I wasn't able to have the water birth I planned for the Bean, I am still a firm believer in the soothing, relaxing, healing power of water during labor and delivery. I did spend my early labor in our hot tub, relaxed and pain-free. If we have another baby, s/he will be a water baby.

4. That first shower after delivery. I won't go into detail here, but it's an experience.

5. The it's-my-only-escape shower. There's no getting around it - even with a newborn, you have to find a way to take a shower everyday. And, as guilty as I felt lathering my hair knowing that Hubby or Grandma or Auntie was trying to calm the screaming Bean, the running water drowned out all sounds. Sometimes those 5 minutes are the only peace you get in a day.

6. The breastfeeding thirst. Never have I been so thirsty! And, if I don't drink tons one day, my milk supply is down the next.

7. Bath, glass of wine, candles. No, I'm not getting romantic on you. Some days, after the Bean is asleep, there's nothing more relaxing than a hot bath. (Once or twice I've fallen asleep in there and woken up shivering.)

8. I have time to shave my legs! Older Bean, longer showers. True luxury!

9. A bath with my Bean! This on falls in the fun, rather than relaxing, category. The water can't be blazing hot like I like it, and I can't slink down to stay warm because I need to make room for the Bean to splish and splash. But what FUN! She squeals with delight and her gummy smile never fades.

101 Reasons to Breastfeed

This is a fantastic article: 101 Reasons to Breastfeed

Each reason is either backed by common sense (e.g., breastfeeding saves you a ton of money) or scientific research, which is properly cited.

There's no question: breastfeeding is great for baby, mommy, daddy, the environment, and society as a whole. Also, it's what nature intended. (How people can think breastfeeding is "gross" or "obscene" is beyond me...but I think that's better addressed in a separate post.)

I realize, of course, that breastfeeding is not possible in all circumstances, and it's not always possible to continue after 3 or 6 months. And, especially in the beginning, it is not easy. Bean wanted to nurse constantly, and often it seemed that the breast was the only thing that would comfort her. For a new mother, this is quite intense, exhausting, and overwhelming. But it got better, and quickly. Those 40-minute nursing sessions every 2 hours eventually got shorter, and now the Bean has a quick 10 minute meal every 3 hours during the day and (cue the angels singing in the background) sleeps 11-12 hours at night.

I am grateful every day that I've been able to nurse the Bean thus far, and I hope I can continue until she's at least a year old. Sure, it's difficult to be away from her for any length of time, and pumping is a chore, and my freezer stock is dangerously low. But I know I'm giving her the best possible nourishment, and, beyond that, that when she is nursing, she is comforted, safe, and happy. The feeling of joy and contentment that I get when I look down at that little face, snuggled up and nursing drowsily before bed, is something I'd never experienced before motherhood.

Though it will represent a bit of freedom for me, I know I'll be sad when the Bean weans.

Tea n' biscuits

So now that the Bean has been eating solid foods for a month or so, I've been on the lookout for some nice hard biscuits or cookies for her to chomp on while she's teething. All the usual suspects, upon close inspection, had some ingredients that I wasn't comfortable with. So, I set out in search of an organic teething biscuit that didn't contain a lot of added sugar, trans fat, or potential allergens. Even the health food section of my usual grocery store, where I've been able to locate lots of great organic babyfood, didn't have anything.

I did find a recipe for hard toast made from non-wheat bread dried in the oven, but that was rather boring for her and she lost interest quickly. I also tried frozen mini-bagels: no dice.

I finally came across Healthy Times Organic Teething Biscuits yesterday in the health food section of Hannaford. They're a hit with the Bean, and they contain:

Organic Wheat Flour, Organic Unsulphured Molasses, Organic Cold Pressed Sunflower and/or Safflower Oil, Calcium Carbonate, Natural Flavor, Vitamin E . (Dairy free, soy free.)

It's great that many mainstream grocery stores are now carrying this type of food. I try to feed the Bean organic food with no fillers, etc., whenever possible - I can only hope she'll continue to eat healthfully when the choice is hers to make.

I picked up some Cadbury Creme Eggs for myself on the way out too. Do as I say, not as I do, Baby.

Daycare charges more for breastfed babies

I was shocked, horrified, and saddened when I read this post on the Lactivist Breastfeeding Blog: http://thelactivist.blogspot.com/2007/02/city-kids-daycare-chain-charges-mom.html

The City Kids Daycare chain in Ohio charges $50 extra per week for breastfed infants because, according to them, breast milk is a biohazard and requires extra preparation. They store expressed breast milk in a separate fridge with a BIOHAZARD sticker. The blog posting above covers how ludicrous both these claims are, and how they're completely opposite from actual reality, so I won't get into it here.

I also won't get into a long-winded discussion about the innumerable benefits of breastfeeding for babies, mothers - and daycare centers(!) - because I think that's better addressed in a separate post. But I'd like to share this info with my readers. If you wish to take action, there are email addresses and phone numbers in the Lactivist's blog post listed above.

I sent the owner of the center the following message (since I do not live in Ohio to attend any protests):

Ms. Elam:

I was shocked and saddened to read about the policy of your daycare center to discriminate against breastfed infants. If, by your logic, breast milk is a biohazard, then what is a baby's spit up? Do you charge extra for babies who spit up? What about babies who urinate? Is urine not a bodily fluid, and therefore a biohazard, by your standards?

It's a sad, sorry state of affairs that people trusted to care for our children can be so ill-informed and ignorant. I hope that, now that this "policy" is gaining so much attention, you will educate yourself and your staff about the incredible benefits of breastfeeding.

Sincerely,
. . .

I didn't expect (and indeed have not received a response).

I am truly grateful that my daughter's daycare center is happy to feed her the expressed breast milk I provide. They encourage breastfeeding and have several rocking chairs for moms who are able to drop in during the day to nurse. They also know that the breastfed babies get fewer colds and other illnesses on top of the other benefits of breastfeeding. In other words, they are not backwards and ignorant.

In anticipation of...

...date night!

Hubby and I have a date tonight! Sure, we've been out together without the Bean a few times, but these "dates" were before the blessed, glorious SLEEPING THROUGH THE NIGHT, and we were usually too tired for more than a quick dinner close to home.

Tonight we actually have plans out of town(!). It's no biggie, really - it's just like any other Saturday night we would have spent pre-pregnancy. But as I showered (and shaved, *winkwink*) this morning, I realized I was pretty excited!

It's amazing how having a baby changes your marriage. You expect it to bring you closer, and it does. You expect it to bring incredible joy and happiness, and it does. But I certainly didn't anticipate how the challenges of extreme sleep deprivation and being on-call 24-7 would test our bond. Even when we're together, working as a team, sometimes it feels like we're miles apart: focused on getting everything done and drained of energy and patience and affection when there finally is a break in the action.

For the first few months, I was really worried. I was constantly on edge with Hubby. He bore the brunt of my frustration, sometimes deservedly so but most of the time - not. I needed someone to snap at, and I couldn't snap at the helpless screaming baby, so Hubs was an easy target. And I was scared. Is our marriage going to survive this? I thought having a baby had a positive impact on your relationship! My mother and married-with-baby friends assured me that it was normal and would pass...I wasn't so sure. I love this guy! Why am I lashing out at him? He was (is) endlessly patient with me, god-love-'im.

~~~~~~~~~~

Luckily, around 5 months (OK, maybe 6), the fog lifts, and most of the stress of taking care of a fussy baby turns to fun as she laughs more, sleeps more, and cries less. Now there are those moments when the bustle of the day is behind us, when the three of us relax in the Bean's room with her nightlight and jammies on... And we lock eyes as she plays between us. And without a word, we know: we've never been closer or more in love.

A huge part of what I love about my husband today is what an incredible father he is to our Bean.

Of course it's not all chocolate covered strawberries - we still have our tense times. And he is still endlessly patient when I lash out. But I'm no longer worried that we're in trouble.

And as much as I love our three-of-us time, I know that Hubby and I need time alone too, to sustain our happiness as time passes. Now, when that Bean goes down for her glorious 12 hours of sleep, or, in this case, when Grandma is here to babysit, we've got to nurture that bond. So, date night it is.

Cuts like a...

Poor Bean! We've been waiting on the FIRST TOOTH to rear its razory edge, but, in true Bean style, she's skipping the middleman and cutting two at once.

She was more than fussy today: all out crying. It breaks my heart to see her little face, chin trembling, arms flailing - and real tears. Thank goodness nursing seems to help - at least I feel like I'm doing something for her.

Why does nature make teething so painful? Doesn't seem right.

The best Valentine's ever

So not only do I have my wonderful Valentine Bean this year, but yesterday while I was at work, hubby cleaned the house (including the tumbleweeds of dog hair that I've been swearing at for two weeks) AND presented me with a platter of chocolate covered strawberries when I walked in. He made them himself.
Life is good.

----------
P.S. Shortly after I originally posted this, the UPS man delivered a beautiful bouquet of flowers from my Valentine! He went all out this year... Hmmm... How can I reward him for these romantic gestures? ;-)

Transcripts 1 and 2

I overheard Hubby the other day, feeding the Bean applesauce:

"Oh, hello, mademoiselle! Are you ready for your first course? Today's special is apples! These are gourmet apples picked especially for you from only the finest orchards. These delicious apples are from...Hawaii! They're PINEapples."

Then last night when he was putting on her high chair tray (in baby-talk, mind you):

"OK, lift up your fingers! Lift 'em up or they'll get chopped off! And we'll have to bring them to the science fair...and then someone will find them in their Wendy's take-out."

Never a dull moment... LOL :-)

If the shirt stinks...

While we're on the subject of spit-up, my mother recently told me that my grandmother and her sisters (all of whom had a gaggle of kids) used to say, "When you turn your head and can't smell spit-up on your shoulder, it's time for another baby."

I thought of that and smiled as I wiped huge chucks of cottage cheese off my back seat after dropping the Bean at daycare this morning. (How DOES she manage to miss herself entirely and fire that stuff all over the seat, which is well beyond her feet?)

But back to my grandmother and her sisters. A few months back I was crying to Nana about how the Bean was not sleeping well at night. "She has her days and nights confused. You have to turn her upside down." Normally, this would seem totally irrational. But I was beyond sleep-deprived and way past desperate. Pen in hand, I said, "OK, Nana, this is very important. Tell me exactly what I have to do."

She chuckled. "Before you put her in for the night, just flip her over so she's upside down, then swing her around upright again, and put her in her crib. It always worked for me and my sisters."

No lie: that night she slept for 10 hours straight. She's been sleeping through ever since. It may have something to do with that fact that that night was also the Bean's third (and final) night of Ferber sleep training, but I'll still tell any desperate parent: turn that baby upside down!

Raspberry beret

So the Bean has been raspberrying for a couple months now. It's her favorite. She raspberrys when she's smiling, when she's laughing, and even when she's crying - I'm not sure which is cutest. She raspberrys oatmeal all over the kitchen, and she delights in the reciprocal raspberry. When she's feeling especially affectionate, she grabs the hair on either side of my head for leverage, then pulls herself in for a big wet raspberry on mommy's chin.

I'm sure this phase will fade when she cuts teeth, but for now, this mama's loving it.

Wait, weight - don't tell me.

At my two-week check up, my midwife (whom I love to pieces) said, in words more gentle than these, "You have four months to lose this weight and still call it baby weight. After that, it's just WEIGHT."

That really hit home with me, and I was determined to use the extra calories that breastfeeding burned to my advantage. I was eating well and walking with the Bean and her silly dog every day for an hour. The weather was beautiful, she loved the fresh air, and we all benefited. The weight was falling off.

Then my maternity leave ended. I went back to work just before a huge project deadline at work. 12-hour days nixed our daily walks, and stress drove me into Bean Mama stress eating mode (my eternal weakness). It didn't help that I work from home and my office is four feet from the kitchen. Winter descended, the days shortened, and my comfort eating increased.

Once I piled work on top of sleep deprivation, salads and broiled fish just did not appeal to me. I deserved pizza, damn it, and a key lime pie with a side of blueberry muffins to go with the Greek chicken wrap (oh, heavenly GCW).

(On a side note, I was able to get some plus-sized modeling work.)

The magic four-month mark came and went; weight was static. DAMN! I missed the window. I can't seem to get back into the zone. I ordered a couple "post partum" work out DVDs, which are currently collecting dust. Pre-pregnancy, I did hour-long kickboxing classes 4-5 days a week and ate well. Now I'm a huge, unmotivated blob. And I have to be in a wedding in T-minus 3 months. And summer is speeding toward me like a locomotive (can I still wear sweaters and my Lane Giant jeans when it's 80 degrees out?).

It's time to stop making excuses. The Bean is eating solid food now, and I want to instill healthy habits in her. I've got to get back on track.

Gum ya later...

I'm reading What's Going on in There? How the Brain and Mind Develop in the First Five Years of Life by Lise Eliot, Ph.D. (excerpt and more info on Amazon). I wish I had read it before the Bean was born - I wouldn't necessarily have done anything differently - it's just interesting to know how and why certain things happen. Ok - sorry - that's ridiculously vague. Here's one example.

Everyone knows that babies put EVERYTHING into their mouths - it's how they explore the world. But why? What I did not know was that the ability to perceive through touch develops from head to toe. A baby can perceive and learn more by touching something with his mouth than with his hands, and "even at five years of age, children's touch sensitivity remains greater in the face than in their hands" (page 132).

Eliot goes on to describe an experiment in which "one-month-olds were able to recognize an object visually that they had previously explored only with their mouths. In this study, babies were allowed to suck on (but not to see) one of two different pacifiers - either a smooth or nubby sphere. Then they were shown larger versions of both objects. The result was clear: they preferred to look at the type of pacifier they had just sucked on rather than the one they had never felt. So not only can young babies detect different shapes with their mouths, they actually form an abstract perception of an object - a mental image that makes the leap between their tactile and visual senses." They repeated the experiment letting the babies hold the pacifiers in their hands only - and they were not able to recognize them visually afterwards (page 132).

Fascinating! I can't put this book down. I highly recommend it for any parent, grandparent, or psycho read-everything-ever-published-on-pregnancy-and-child-development type like myself.

The Spit-up Chronicles

One thing I've learned as a new mom is that with motherhood comes a sick obsession with bodily functions. Did she pee? Was it DAMP or SOAKED? And more importantly - did she POOP? What color was it? Was it runny? They even want you to write it down.

There's another bodily function that you don't have to document so closely: spit up. Some babies just do it a little bit when they're newborns and quickly out grow it. Not my Bean. She is a steadfast SPITTER. Doc says she'll probably out grow it when she's one or so, but some spit until they're two. TWO? I have never done so much laundry nor been so stained....and fragrant. Inconvenient as it is, however, breast milk spit up is fairly innocuous. It comes out in the laundry and doesn't smell too bad if you clean it up quickly. But I wasn't prepared for the rainbows that would dribble down her chin and splash on the floor when she started solids (the dog likes them though. Gross!).

Anyhoo, I was thinking about all of this as I rinsed some crusty substance or other from my hair this morning, and I realized, just like diaper contents, spit up comes in many varieties.

1. The new friend spit up. "Oh she's precious! Can I hold her?" Sure, just be careful because - BLEP - oh, sorry about that. People usually say, "Oh, that's ok," but their horrified expression and frantic scrubbing betrays them.

2. The stealth bomber. How does she manage to project that stuff from her face and not get a drop on HERSELF? My fave was when she somehow managed to spit up DOWN my turtleneck sweater directly into my cleavage...yet there wasn't a trace on her or on the outside of my sweater. Good. At least I didn't have to change again.

3. The OMG this poison is burning my skin -up. This is my Hubby. I think he's finally given up, but for the first three months, as soon as she got him, he'd hand her to me so he could run and change his shirt. Again, and again, and again. Just rub it in, babe. It's hypoallergenic.

4. Prunes.

5. Carrots/sweet potatoes/squash.

6. The car seat spit up. Is it the angle of the seat? Do the straps press on her belly? I have never identified the cause, but the Bean spits up EVERY time I strap her in her car seat, soaking whatever cute little outfit or jacket I had carefully chosen and wrestled her in to. EVERY time.

7. The airplane. It's so fun, laying on your back, flying the baby around. She smiles, she giggles, she loves it ("You're playing with fire," a voice in your head says). Splat. In the face. (She smiles, she giggles, she loves it.)

8. The friend's story. I love this one too much to not share it. My friend, who, BTW, rarely curses, took her bean to the doctor. After a long day at work, followed by the baby peeing on the examining table, she had had enough. When the baby then spit up over her shoulder, down her shirt, and onto the floor, she exclaimed, "motherFUCKER!" then blushed when she saw the doc's horrified expression.

9. The bath. Never fails. If the spit up doesn't come at the beginning of the bath, filling the water with the cottage cheese you were in there trying to wash off in the first place, it comes at the end. "Nice and clean, Bean...." SPLAT.

10. The kiss. (You can see this one coming.) "Oh, mommy loves her Bean. Come here, give me a kiss..." Splat. Right in the kisser. GAG.

A Bean is Born

I've been meaning to get this down on "paper" for quite some time, so I figured it was a logical place to start.

Pregnancy: 10 long months to wonder, worry, ponder, and plan. I read everything I could get my hands on: books, magazines, Web sites, blogs, etc., etc. There is such a glut of "information" to sort through, to consider, and to assign weight. Every resource says something a little different. But, after all my reading about child birth options, two spoke to me: water birth and Hypnobirthing.

I was determined to have a natural birth, and that meant no unnecessary interventions, including induction. As my due date came and went, I became more and more anxious to, of course, meet that little girl who had been rolling and kicking inside of me, and to get the labor process started before I required any "help." I tried the usual: sex (was it good for you?), nipple stimulation (hope none of my dead relatives are watching!), spicy food (great for inducing heart burn but not much else), evening primrose oil inserted at bed time for two weeks (I think this one actually helped soften the cervix, but who really knows?) and so on. Finally, the day before I was supposed to go in for an initial "nudge" as my midwife described it, I told the Hubby, take me to the mall, and we're walking as long as I can stand (it was 95 degrees out and just as muggy, so a venue with AC was my only option). We walked and walked, spent money, walked some more.....nothing.

"Let's go get sushi he said, and I'll make you a wasabi cocktail."

At this point, what the hell.

I, of course, dutifully ordered only veggie and fully-cooked sushi rolls and dunked them in this paste he created of a whole lotta wasabi and a little soy sauce. Heartburn be damned, this baby is coming out tonight.

Went home. Nothing. Went to bed around 9:30. At 11:30 PM I woke up to pee (2 hours! That was a long stretch!) and realized I was a bit crampy. I sat down on the couch and told the Hubs, "Go back to bed - I'll wake you up if it's anything." He was already in the driveway, bag in hand, with the car running. I calmed him down and commenced my Hypnobirthing breathing techniques. As the cramps intensified (still no pain) I thought I'd sit in the hot tub for a while to relax. I sat in the tub and worked on breathing and visualization while he timed the cramps. I still was not convinced that these were contractions, because my belly did not feel "hard as a basketball" as I'd heard it described.

"Can we go to the hospital now?" he pleaded.

"Babe, relax, it's only been like 1/2 an hour."

"Actually, it's 2:30 AM [the time distortion techniques actually worked!], and these contractions are coming every 5 minutes. That's when we're supposed to go."

I called my midwife, and, listening to my description of the cramps, she seemed hesitant to have me come into be checked, but, given their frequency, said it was better to be safe. So we drove the 10 minutes to the hospital and the nurse came in to check me. "You seem pretty comfortable, so I suspect it's still pretty early...but let's take a peek.... Ok, you're at about 5 1/2 centimeters - let's get you into a room!"

I reminded her that I wanted a waterbirth, and she said she'd get the jacuzzi ready (early labor was in the jacuzzi, then I'd move to a tub in my room to give birth).

Turned out my labor progressed too quickly for the jacuzzi, but they started filling the tub in my room. So far I had been fairly comfortable - then they decided to strap on a monitor for a non-stress test (not sure if this is a mandatory test, but I didn't think to ask). Then my midwife was called away to another patient, and the nurse kept the NST going for the next hour. I couldn't roll on my side or move around to get comfortable, and that's when I got out of the Hypnobirthing "zone." I should have insisted that they remove the NST (which was not reporting any problems), but I was not thinking clearly. Hubby was great - rubbing my back, encouraging me to use the hypnobirthing techniques, etc. But I didn't fight hard enough to stay with my breathing....and that's when it started to HURT. "This isn't supposed to hurt," I remember thinking.

It was around this time that my mom arrived. I have never been so happy to see her! My younger sister came shortly afterward, and I remember not wanting her to come in - I was worried that seeing me like this would scare her from ever having kids! But everyone was saying, "You're doing great - you're not scary!" Looking back, I don't think I showed how much pain I was in... I remember Hubs telling everyone "Oh, yeah, she did wonderful - was calm and collected, relaxed the whole time, etc." WHAT? I was out of my mind!

Having my family there for support was wonderful. We had planned ahead of time that just my husband would be with me for the actual birth, so as it got closer mom and sis retired to the waiting room. But knowing that they were there and would come in as soon as the Bean arrived helped me more than I can describe.

The contractions continued to intensify. "I want to get in the tub." I stripped to a tank top and got into the warm, wonderful water. Relief! Then the midwife came back to check my dilation. I was fully dilated but my water hadn't broken yet. She explained that they needed to see my waters to make sure there was no meconium present - so - out of the tub. She offered to break my water but warned that the contractions would intensify. At this point, I just wanted it to be over, so I told her to go for it.

Big mistake. A.) There was meconium present, so waterbirth was out of the question and B.) "Intensify"? More like "breaking your water will cause each contraction to feel like your insides have been plopped into a food processor on PULSE." By now my inner dialog went something like this: Ask for some drugs. NO! You're almost there. It's too late anyway. I can't do this any more! Ask! Say it aloud! No! You have to do it. Breathe.

I never did ask for the meds... Just kept breathing and trying to relax, though I was in agony. I never screamed or swore (choking husband: YOU DID THIS TO ME!) like you see on the movies (has there EVER been a realistic portrayal of labor/birth?) - just kept praying for it to be over. Hubs rubbed and rubbed and rubbed my back and encouraged me the whole time. Definitely could not have done it without him.

The nurse suggested that I sit on the birthing ball... That glorious, bouncy, ridiculous-looking thing SAVED me. I rolled back and forth while Hubs rubbed my back and got some relief during the contractions. "Do you feel the urge to push?" the nurse asked." Not really. "Why don't you just try pushing anyway -- just see if it feels any different?" (She was fantastic - knew what I needed but knew how to suggest it without being intrusive.)

She was right. Now at least I felt I was doing SOMETHING. The pushing helped the pain a bit. After pushing on the ball for a while I moved up to the bed. (DAMN! I really wanted to be doing this in the water.) Pushing was exhausting. I think it lasted about an hour. I felt the nice warm olive oil my midwife poured on my bottom and she said "Reach down and feel your daughter's head." I know it's supposed to be this magical moment, where you cry and scream, "Oh my god, my baby!" but I reached down and thought, "Yeah, great, a head. Whatever. Let's get it O U T." A couple more pushes, and the midwife said to my Hubby, "Come down here and deliver your daughter!" And that he did!

He and the midwife brought her up to my chest - I'll always remember the feeling of the hot umbilical cord on my thighs - and there she was: the most perfect, beautiful, incredible thing I'd ever seen. My Bean.

No drugs so she was AWAKE, AWARE, and ready to nurse. She latched right on and hasn't stopped since.

*****************

Would I go the Hypnobirth route again? Absolutely. Only this time I'd insist that the NST time be limited unless there was a problem, and I'd bring my CDs, and I would STAY IN THE ZONE. Were it not for my slipping back into fear and stress, I would have had a relatively pain free delivery. Still, it was not bad: 9 hours, and only 5 were really gruelling. And the results? Worth a million, million labors.