January 9, 2011
January 8, 2011
The soothing hour is over. 8 ounces, a few bounces, lots of rocking back and forth on the bouncy chair, and four attempts to put him down have finally paid off. He has some serious snuggling dedication, though, so I wasn't sure I'd emerge the victor this morning. As my muscles can attest to, he's gaining some serious weight right now, so it's becoming a bit of a bother to carry him around for an hour not shifting him so I don't alert him to the possibility of being deposited in the dreaded crib.
Speaking of the crib, Alex is determined to continue her favorite game with Gabey - Knock the Baby Over in the Crib. He's getting too tall to properly knock down without braining him on the crib, so yesterday we had to stop the game. Poor, poor Alex will have to knock him over in other places now. But he's been practicing his standing skills, so I'm guessing her days of knocking him over will be coming to an end pretty soon and he can play Knock Over Big Sister.
Speaking of the crib, Alex is determined to continue her favorite game with Gabey - Knock the Baby Over in the Crib. He's getting too tall to properly knock down without braining him on the crib, so yesterday we had to stop the game. Poor, poor Alex will have to knock him over in other places now. But he's been practicing his standing skills, so I'm guessing her days of knocking him over will be coming to an end pretty soon and he can play Knock Over Big Sister.
January 7, 2011
Yesterday I decided we'd go to the Ecotarium. It was the day before another snow "storm" (Up to 5 inches of snow is a storm? Really?) and I thought it wise to get some infotainment in before we were stuck in the house. We ended up spending 2.5 hours there browsing through all kinds of exciting things. A shocking amount of time considering that usually about an hour is all Alex can stomach without going a little loopy (more about that later) but it was earlier in the afternoon than we typically go, so that must have been the reason why.
She's not nearly so fascinated with everything as I am, and I do find it somewhat mostly frustrating to tour the museum and have about 10 seconds per display unless is has some manipulable component or the capability to blow large quantities of air into little brother's face. That being said, she was almost attentive for a few explanations of different exhibits, so I think we're making progress. Gabe was fascinated by everything, and quiet unless air was blowing in his face.
We saw fossils, rocks, played with water, air of course, sounds, puzzles, puppets, display buttons, a train, and even tempted a snake to try and eat us all whole. From the other side of the glass, of course, because even at 19 pounds, Gabe would be an attractive meal for the boa.
Then, meltdown occurred as it always does. This time, Alex was "starving to death" and needed to eat all of Gabey's Cheerios. However, they were being recklessly scattered all over the supposedly food-free floor of the museum, so chaos was not far away as Mommy decided enough was enough and feeding time was over. Much screaming ensued, followed my hurried application of coats and admonishments. Into the bitter cold, we retreated to the car, munching Cheerios and scattering a few for the birds on the way. (Almost forgot - feeding time began because Gabe was in the stroller and started looking for Cheerios in his cup holder. He's too smart.)
Order was restored thanks largely to nap time in the car, which ended abruptly in the garage at home. And...back to a less than exciting day at home. Today, hopefully there's a play date in our future, but maybe just some snow and lots of nagging about the extreme need for hot chocolate because it's so cold and snowy, combined with lots of begging about not keeping clothes on because it's too hot.
She's not nearly so fascinated with everything as I am, and I do find it somewhat mostly frustrating to tour the museum and have about 10 seconds per display unless is has some manipulable component or the capability to blow large quantities of air into little brother's face. That being said, she was almost attentive for a few explanations of different exhibits, so I think we're making progress. Gabe was fascinated by everything, and quiet unless air was blowing in his face.
We saw fossils, rocks, played with water, air of course, sounds, puzzles, puppets, display buttons, a train, and even tempted a snake to try and eat us all whole. From the other side of the glass, of course, because even at 19 pounds, Gabe would be an attractive meal for the boa.
Then, meltdown occurred as it always does. This time, Alex was "starving to death" and needed to eat all of Gabey's Cheerios. However, they were being recklessly scattered all over the supposedly food-free floor of the museum, so chaos was not far away as Mommy decided enough was enough and feeding time was over. Much screaming ensued, followed my hurried application of coats and admonishments. Into the bitter cold, we retreated to the car, munching Cheerios and scattering a few for the birds on the way. (Almost forgot - feeding time began because Gabe was in the stroller and started looking for Cheerios in his cup holder. He's too smart.)
Order was restored thanks largely to nap time in the car, which ended abruptly in the garage at home. And...back to a less than exciting day at home. Today, hopefully there's a play date in our future, but maybe just some snow and lots of nagging about the extreme need for hot chocolate because it's so cold and snowy, combined with lots of begging about not keeping clothes on because it's too hot.
January 6, 2011
The impossible has happened. After the debacle of teething unrest, Gabey has actually slept through the night for the first time in who can remember how long. In fact, it's after 7 A.M. and I can still hear his little sleepy baby breathing. He's definitely considering his waking up options, but for now, he's giving me a break.
So, now I'm contemplating the fate of big cardboard boxes. The basement has been graced with a new couch and love-seat, but the sofa beds still loom large, now in the dark end of the basement. Along with the tent, crawling tube, Alex's table and chairs, the play kitchen, three toy boxes, a doll house, two farms, two castles, a basketball net, shopping cart, puzzle basket, and slide, not to mention puppet theater with -most- of its puppets, it's getting a wee bit crowded.
Like her love for all her things, the love for the cardboard boxes - one from Gabe's big boy car seat and the other from the slide - waxes and wanes from day to day. My instinct to recycle is starting to get the better of me, though. She probably won't notice the loss of her impromptu cave, and Gabey won't miss the boxes, especially since he's hesitant to go into them. So maybe, just maybe, they'll disappear some time soon. I mean, let's face it, of the cats don't use them, why do we have them?
In any case, a more pressing need right now is the need to de-Christmas the house. I've got replacement lights glaring at me just above my recently cleaned desk, and Alex's Christmas tree drives me crazy every time I go into her room. Most everything else is put away, and the big tree is waiting on the deck to be deposited somewhere more appropriate like the compost pile. Maybe before the next "storm" (One to two inches of snow is a storm? Am I missing something here? Clearly I must be...) I'll get around to dragging the tree somewhere less conspicuous. But for now, it's 17 degrees outside, and my hair is wet. Best not to venture out right now.
So, now I'm contemplating the fate of big cardboard boxes. The basement has been graced with a new couch and love-seat, but the sofa beds still loom large, now in the dark end of the basement. Along with the tent, crawling tube, Alex's table and chairs, the play kitchen, three toy boxes, a doll house, two farms, two castles, a basketball net, shopping cart, puzzle basket, and slide, not to mention puppet theater with -most- of its puppets, it's getting a wee bit crowded.
Like her love for all her things, the love for the cardboard boxes - one from Gabe's big boy car seat and the other from the slide - waxes and wanes from day to day. My instinct to recycle is starting to get the better of me, though. She probably won't notice the loss of her impromptu cave, and Gabey won't miss the boxes, especially since he's hesitant to go into them. So maybe, just maybe, they'll disappear some time soon. I mean, let's face it, of the cats don't use them, why do we have them?
In any case, a more pressing need right now is the need to de-Christmas the house. I've got replacement lights glaring at me just above my recently cleaned desk, and Alex's Christmas tree drives me crazy every time I go into her room. Most everything else is put away, and the big tree is waiting on the deck to be deposited somewhere more appropriate like the compost pile. Maybe before the next "storm" (One to two inches of snow is a storm? Am I missing something here? Clearly I must be...) I'll get around to dragging the tree somewhere less conspicuous. But for now, it's 17 degrees outside, and my hair is wet. Best not to venture out right now.
January 5, 2011
Teething Rage
How had I forgotten the true horror of teething? The countless hours spent with Alex jamming my numbing-gel-globbed fingers in her mouth, the gallons of ibuprofen, the sleepless nights spent tossing and turning on her bedroom floor so I could be a heartbeat away from soothing her tortured self back to sleep before she woke up Jeff? The utter frustration of not really being able to do a darn thing to help her feel better because the only relief from teething is teeth!?! Oh yeah, that's all coming back to me now.
Gabey popped out his first four teeth with relative ease. Sure there was fussing and a few interrupted nights. But now, it's regular nightly intervals of agony, screaming, crying, wriggling, writhing, temper tantrums and sleeplessness. Us and him. It's seriously ridiculous how painful and disruptive teething is. Someone should really do something about that.
For one, the makers of infant pain relief medication should have a foolproof way to deliver the goods. I'm fairly certain that babies, at least our baby, do not like the taste of grape ibuprofen. Ever. Especially not when they're half asleep and in terrible pain. Gabe has mastered the fine art of spitting out most (all?) of his ibuprofen. Just to spite us. And I'm fairly certain he's noticed it in his bottle too.
Speaking of bottles, don't we have gum-soothing technology for bottles yet? Say, a cooling nipple with gum massaging capabilities. I mean, there are butt wipe warmers, so why not teething nipples? I'd gladly pay a small fortune for a teething nipple.
So, last night was particularly horror-filled. Gabey woke at 8:50. He didn't want to eat, didn't need a diaper change, didn't want to go back to sleep. For two hours I (and sometimes Jeff) wrestled with him, squishing his tiny head on our chests to sooth him and make him, brutally force him if you will, to sleep. And sleep he did. On our chests. The second I put my hand around his body to ease him into the crib, he woke up. Screaming. I put him back on my chest, and the silence was just as deafening. Away from me = scream. With me = snore. This went on for, I repeat, two hours. TWO HOURS. Honestly, I've said it before and I'll say it again, shaken baby syndome makes more sense to me now.
But he did finally go back to sleep. After threats of doom from us, lots of numbing gel, a mystery amount of ibuprofen (definitely lass than he needed or is recommended for babies of his particular girth.) and a few sweet snuggles once the realization hit me that he might actually, after two long hours, go to sleep.
The thought had crossed my mind to just go to sleep with him so we'd all get a little rest. (Except me, because practically speaking, a baby sleeping with you is not the recipe for sound sleep.) But several things prevented me from doing this:
1. The oft-spoken-of possibility that he'd really like it. Nothing would be worse for us than a child who wanted to sleep with us every night. There's just no way.
2. He probably wouldn't really like it. Had I slept upright in the bouncy chair, he'd have slept with me all night. However, I don't sleep sitting up, and he doesn't sleep on me when I lay down, so there ya go.
3. I wasn't falling asleep anyway. Too much rage. Had I managed to fall asleep and he woke up later (like, 5 minutes after I finally fell asleep, probably) I would have sleepily strangled him so I could go back to sleep.
Anyway, turns out, all he needed was 2 hours of snuggling peppered with intermittent cursing to lull him back to sleep, so it was all good. I finally returned to bed around 11:00. Said something or other to Jeff about what a naughty baby (or something more colorful?) we have, and turned out the lights. Five minutes later, Jeff was snoring, and I was wide awake, still seething with teething rage. And the rage that Diesel was on Jeff's pillow, threatening to come over for a snuggle with me too. But a punch to Jeff's leg and a threatening poke to Diesel later, I finally drifted to sleep. To be awoken what seems like moments later by the alarm. I hid under the covers while Jeff oozed his was around getting ready for work (Thanks for the coffee, Sweetie!!!) and drifted into semi-consciousness until Gabe woke at 6:00.
He got a bottle, threats of instant death if he didn't go back to sleep so Mommy could have breakfast with lots of coffee and a shower, and a quick snuggle and back rub to settle him back to sleep. Starting now, the day has begun anew, with caffeine-fueled blogging and clean hair. Cheerios have made me cheery, and the sun has finally risen while the son has not yet. I expect to hear the elephant-like thumpings of Alex on her way down to ask me "What's going on?" instead of "Good morning." and it's off to the races again.
Back to poking gums to see if those teeth are there yet. Only 16 more teeth to go...
Gabey popped out his first four teeth with relative ease. Sure there was fussing and a few interrupted nights. But now, it's regular nightly intervals of agony, screaming, crying, wriggling, writhing, temper tantrums and sleeplessness. Us and him. It's seriously ridiculous how painful and disruptive teething is. Someone should really do something about that.
For one, the makers of infant pain relief medication should have a foolproof way to deliver the goods. I'm fairly certain that babies, at least our baby, do not like the taste of grape ibuprofen. Ever. Especially not when they're half asleep and in terrible pain. Gabe has mastered the fine art of spitting out most (all?) of his ibuprofen. Just to spite us. And I'm fairly certain he's noticed it in his bottle too.
Speaking of bottles, don't we have gum-soothing technology for bottles yet? Say, a cooling nipple with gum massaging capabilities. I mean, there are butt wipe warmers, so why not teething nipples? I'd gladly pay a small fortune for a teething nipple.
So, last night was particularly horror-filled. Gabey woke at 8:50. He didn't want to eat, didn't need a diaper change, didn't want to go back to sleep. For two hours I (and sometimes Jeff) wrestled with him, squishing his tiny head on our chests to sooth him and make him, brutally force him if you will, to sleep. And sleep he did. On our chests. The second I put my hand around his body to ease him into the crib, he woke up. Screaming. I put him back on my chest, and the silence was just as deafening. Away from me = scream. With me = snore. This went on for, I repeat, two hours. TWO HOURS. Honestly, I've said it before and I'll say it again, shaken baby syndome makes more sense to me now.
But he did finally go back to sleep. After threats of doom from us, lots of numbing gel, a mystery amount of ibuprofen (definitely lass than he needed or is recommended for babies of his particular girth.) and a few sweet snuggles once the realization hit me that he might actually, after two long hours, go to sleep.
The thought had crossed my mind to just go to sleep with him so we'd all get a little rest. (Except me, because practically speaking, a baby sleeping with you is not the recipe for sound sleep.) But several things prevented me from doing this:
1. The oft-spoken-of possibility that he'd really like it. Nothing would be worse for us than a child who wanted to sleep with us every night. There's just no way.
2. He probably wouldn't really like it. Had I slept upright in the bouncy chair, he'd have slept with me all night. However, I don't sleep sitting up, and he doesn't sleep on me when I lay down, so there ya go.
3. I wasn't falling asleep anyway. Too much rage. Had I managed to fall asleep and he woke up later (like, 5 minutes after I finally fell asleep, probably) I would have sleepily strangled him so I could go back to sleep.
Anyway, turns out, all he needed was 2 hours of snuggling peppered with intermittent cursing to lull him back to sleep, so it was all good. I finally returned to bed around 11:00. Said something or other to Jeff about what a naughty baby (or something more colorful?) we have, and turned out the lights. Five minutes later, Jeff was snoring, and I was wide awake, still seething with teething rage. And the rage that Diesel was on Jeff's pillow, threatening to come over for a snuggle with me too. But a punch to Jeff's leg and a threatening poke to Diesel later, I finally drifted to sleep. To be awoken what seems like moments later by the alarm. I hid under the covers while Jeff oozed his was around getting ready for work (Thanks for the coffee, Sweetie!!!) and drifted into semi-consciousness until Gabe woke at 6:00.
He got a bottle, threats of instant death if he didn't go back to sleep so Mommy could have breakfast with lots of coffee and a shower, and a quick snuggle and back rub to settle him back to sleep. Starting now, the day has begun anew, with caffeine-fueled blogging and clean hair. Cheerios have made me cheery, and the sun has finally risen while the son has not yet. I expect to hear the elephant-like thumpings of Alex on her way down to ask me "What's going on?" instead of "Good morning." and it's off to the races again.
Back to poking gums to see if those teeth are there yet. Only 16 more teeth to go...
January 4, 2011
January 3, 2011
Conversation of the Day
Me: "Alex, what did you make?" (Referencing the pipe-cleaner sculpture she just made.)
Alex: "Oh, something you wouldn't understand."
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