Today was the day The Child discovered broccoli. I should have known by the look on her face before she even had the spoon in her mouth. One sniff and she looked at me as if trying to say, "Mom, are you sure about this?" Wearing a big smile and with a happy voice, I encouraged her, and she opened her mouth. In went the spoon, and about 0.18 seconds later, out came the broccoli. This was followed by what can only be described as a violent visceral reaction just slightly less forceful than when she first tried pears (which she now loves). Somehow, I managed to convince her to try another bite, and that did not go any better. It was, in fact, followed by crying and tears. Big tears. As if the broccoli had somehow maimed her soul. At that point, carrots came to the rescue, and all was well with the world.
She still won't eat peas, and eats green beans with bare minimum enthusiasm. I guess another green veggie bites the dust. I'll keep trying, but I'm not holding my breath.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
The Child Explores Beauty Products
Well, in the form of food anyways. A particularly messy dinner led her to style her hair with blueberry applesauce, and try her hand with green-bean-bronzer. Personally, I think she's on the cutting edge of beauty design. ; )
Happy Halloween!
Natalie is ready for her first Halloween. Costume verdict was a ladybug. Sorry Kate, ladybug = cute. Chewbacca = creepy.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Motherhood Epiphany
A few days ago, I realized why people have more than one child (I concede ahead of time that this may not be the *only* reason why people decide to bring #2 into this world): the clothes. I packed up The Child's 6 month clothes, and it made me so sad! Her grandmothers have made sure she is the best dressed baby girl in our county, and now she will never wear those outfits again. That seems almost.....wasteful! All of my favorite outfits of hers are folded up in a Rubbermaid bin, perhaps only to see the light of day at a garage sale in 7 years. Tragic.
Then, the following though briefly crossed my mind: I'll need to have 4 kids. 2 of each, so that I can really do the clothes justice. Like I said, briefly.
Then, the following though briefly crossed my mind: I'll need to have 4 kids. 2 of each, so that I can really do the clothes justice. Like I said, briefly.
Monday, October 13, 2008
High Chair Crime Scene
My kitchen could have doubled for a CSI scene today. The splatter pattern was perfect, there were a few smears, and definite finger prints. Suspect: The Child. Mystery substance: Carrots. Mode of action: A sneeze. Actually, lots of them.
Mommy lesson learned: Do not feed The Child dark colored foods when she is sneezey and has a cold.
Mommy lesson learned: Do not feed The Child dark colored foods when she is sneezey and has a cold.
All bets are off
It figures. Just as we were getting the hang of the night time routine, and she wasn't "crying it out" so much as half-heartedly fussing when she woke up in the middle of the night, it hits. She has a runny nose and is sneezey. Now, I don't know if it's a cold, or if she's actually teething (I've thought she's been teething for the past 4 months, so the former is more likely), but a runny nose and sneezing indicates that something is going on. Something that's making her uncomfortable. And, knowing that, I can't let her fuss it out anymore. So everyone cross your fingers that this passes quickly, and that nights of 10 hours of sleep filled with sweet dreams soon return. In the meantime, I'm stocking up on coffee.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Reason #1 why The Child will need therapy:
After being about 30 seconds away from a complete and total mental breakdown (at 4 in the morning) about a week ago from the Sleepless Wonder (see previous post), I decided there simply MUST be something wrong with her. Why else would a baby be so completely incapable of sleeping? So off to the pediatrician we went. The diagnosis: a perfectly healthy, non-teething, non-ear-infection-having, non-constipated baby. Hooray! Oh, and this baby no longer knows how to go back to sleep when she wakes up, and freaks out....hence exhausted mom.
His recommendation: Time to cry it out. Now, before I had The Child, I was of firm mindset that babies only cried when something was wrong, and it was the Mom's duty to figure it out, and address that need. It was how they knew to trust you, know you'll meet their needs, blah blah blah. And I still believe that to a degree. But I have needs too. Namely, a good night sleep (meaning, not getting up for 2 hour stretches from 2-4 am every night....as had become our nightly ritual).
So, I talked about this with Husband. And having been convinced that this will not make me a neglectful mother, we decided to try it. Night 1 = hysterical screaming for 55 minutes (baby, not me), followed by a Pomegranate martini (for me) when she finally stopped. Each night has improved, just like everyone told us it would, but my guilt has not. She still greets me with a huge grin in the morning, reaches for me and kicks her feet with excitement in anticipation of being picked up out of her crib, so I know she isn't holding that big of a grudge.
However, I'm convinced that this has started the list of reasons why, no matter what I do, my child will need therapy. Anyone know a good pediatric shrink I can use in about 16 years?
His recommendation: Time to cry it out. Now, before I had The Child, I was of firm mindset that babies only cried when something was wrong, and it was the Mom's duty to figure it out, and address that need. It was how they knew to trust you, know you'll meet their needs, blah blah blah. And I still believe that to a degree. But I have needs too. Namely, a good night sleep (meaning, not getting up for 2 hour stretches from 2-4 am every night....as had become our nightly ritual).
So, I talked about this with Husband. And having been convinced that this will not make me a neglectful mother, we decided to try it. Night 1 = hysterical screaming for 55 minutes (baby, not me), followed by a Pomegranate martini (for me) when she finally stopped. Each night has improved, just like everyone told us it would, but my guilt has not. She still greets me with a huge grin in the morning, reaches for me and kicks her feet with excitement in anticipation of being picked up out of her crib, so I know she isn't holding that big of a grudge.
However, I'm convinced that this has started the list of reasons why, no matter what I do, my child will need therapy. Anyone know a good pediatric shrink I can use in about 16 years?
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