It has been a gorgeous day, proving once again that even SouthEastern PA in late June/early July is one of the most beautiful summery places in my life. The smells, the sounds, everything on the street where I spent my first summers are familiar and sing to me fully of home. I've slipped back into my childhood like it should have been. Like I'm putting on an old sweater and a pair of jeans that are fit for nothing but rags.
This time, I get to share it with a giggly girl. This time, I'm the grownup. This time around everything is still bright and sunny. The pessimist in me asks how long before I cry; I'm telling her to shut up and go away. I don't want to think those thoughts right now. I want to feel young again. I want to turn my face up to the cloudless sky and get a sunburn. It's good for the soul.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Baby!
My cousin's family just delivered their first child. A girl-child. A Wonderful, Beautiful, Little Girl. Kathryn Marie. Welcome to the family!
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
back at the ranch
We have arrived in PA. The flood waters rise, and abate, and bridges are washed out. I see a lot of people not being idiots. They realize that the "Road Out" signs are there for a reason. Even though the flight was horribly delayed, I'm happy that it's over. The Child is finally asleep and may just let me get some real rest tonight. My head hurts.
Selective amnesia. That's what it is. The same process that keeps me from remembering in detail all the most horrid things of my life kicked in to protect me from the memory of the humidity here. The pollen. The enormous amount of creepy crawling things and blooming things that make my sinuses weld themselves shut in an effort to protect my lungs. At least, I have to assume that's what they're doing.
but we're doing good. We're doing real good right now. Bring it on, Kinfolk. I'm ready for you.
Selective amnesia. That's what it is. The same process that keeps me from remembering in detail all the most horrid things of my life kicked in to protect me from the memory of the humidity here. The pollen. The enormous amount of creepy crawling things and blooming things that make my sinuses weld themselves shut in an effort to protect my lungs. At least, I have to assume that's what they're doing.
but we're doing good. We're doing real good right now. Bring it on, Kinfolk. I'm ready for you.
Monday, June 26, 2006
the toddler strikes back
Ever since we woke up this morning it's been GO GO GO for her. Into everything implies that there was a corner of the house that she hasn't already been. Climbing over stuff. Like Mama. Climbing up, pulling down, dunking my kotex in the toilet, and spinning the toilet paper roll are just a few of the things that she's been doing today.
I did finally manage to wrestle the laundry over. It's now clean, and shoved into the hamper where it will remain until after Tiffany's safely in bed and asleep for the night. I have to fold and put away and pack for our trip. Is it so wrong to want a few more hours in the day? We have just a few errands to do outside the house as well, but I don't know if I want to do them just yet.
Soon, now, I hope she'll be getting tired. Her snuffling is a bit better today. I'm trying to get her to drink lots of fluids and take cold medicine to dry it up, because the last thing she's going to want is to get an ear infection on the plane tomorrow. I'm looking forward to getting off the plane in PA. Where my Mama will make it better, and give me a hug, and take care of my baby so that I can sleep.
I did finally manage to wrestle the laundry over. It's now clean, and shoved into the hamper where it will remain until after Tiffany's safely in bed and asleep for the night. I have to fold and put away and pack for our trip. Is it so wrong to want a few more hours in the day? We have just a few errands to do outside the house as well, but I don't know if I want to do them just yet.
Soon, now, I hope she'll be getting tired. Her snuffling is a bit better today. I'm trying to get her to drink lots of fluids and take cold medicine to dry it up, because the last thing she's going to want is to get an ear infection on the plane tomorrow. I'm looking forward to getting off the plane in PA. Where my Mama will make it better, and give me a hug, and take care of my baby so that I can sleep.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Thought for the day
Nothing says "Mother Love" like chasing a snuffly toddler around the house to wipe long drips of yellow goo from her nose. This can be likened to the love it takes to not throw up at some of the more interesting deposits left in her diaper. The next time you talk to your mother, or your primary childcare provider, or biological parenting unit- thank them for this love. Because, honestly, you couldn't pay me enough to do this for anyone else.
Sunday Book Review
The Copper Crown was the initial work that introduced us to the Keltic world, as envisioned by Patricia Kennealy. I first picked it up not expecting much, but because I liked the cover. Five pages in, I was hooked. This led me to picking up the other books as they were published, and I’ve managed to keep all of the series through annual moves and a lot of disorder.
It’s a remarkable book that lets me see it like a movie. She’s managed to create the world all over again with a complexity that I don’t find in many other series. I don’t know how she manages to be left off the list of epic writers. I can be completely transported into her novels, and there are two books in the series that never fail to break me down into tears every time I read them. And I’ve read them so often the spines are creased and the covers heavily worn.
So pick up a copy. They're getting harder to find since the book has been out of print for a while, and she never got around to writing a lot of them... but there are 8 books available of this glorious series, and you'll get a whole new world to dream of.
It’s a remarkable book that lets me see it like a movie. She’s managed to create the world all over again with a complexity that I don’t find in many other series. I don’t know how she manages to be left off the list of epic writers. I can be completely transported into her novels, and there are two books in the series that never fail to break me down into tears every time I read them. And I’ve read them so often the spines are creased and the covers heavily worn.
So pick up a copy. They're getting harder to find since the book has been out of print for a while, and she never got around to writing a lot of them... but there are 8 books available of this glorious series, and you'll get a whole new world to dream of.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
i wonder as i wander
Preparations for the child’s gestational birthday party are continuing. Tiki torches have been set up. A palm tree has been acquired. For reasons unbeknownst to me, the official party planner has decreed that it will be a luau-themed party. I think it has to do with the 12month hulu outfit and grass skirt that my mother bought last summer. All that remains is to show up with the child- that’s my ticket to the party. If I try to show up without her I think there will be a mob with torches and pitchforks coming after me.
My brain is going to turn into mush in a short while. My Boy is coming home in 6 weeks. That’s, like, SOON. Much sooner than it was when he left, on Valentine’s Day. Which is a crappy way to spend the day- I wanted to throw up at all the commercials. Which also may have been a result from the stomach virus that we all had that week. Fun. Not. But my brain. Mush. Yup. It is a well known Mary phenomenom, that when big Events loom I develop a sudden regression to four years old. A little girl excitedly jumping up and down and bouncing off the walls with my joy. This is not appropriate behavior for a wife and mother. Not if I’m trying to convince people how sane and ready for another baby I am.
I’ve been spending a lot of time online in the past two days. More than usual, which for me is still a lot. I want to laugh at the online survey questions, the ones that want to know in what group are the number of hours you spend online in a week. Um. 16+? At a minimum.
And what have we learned from this? Kids. They suck your brain. The brain that I used to have I had to share with her, which means that at least a third of my pre-mommy brain is gone forever. This is likely the reason why I don’t remember where I left my shoes or my hair clips. I wish I could blame my hatred of pantyhose on this as well, but I’m afraid that I never did like them much. Except for a pair I wore once, to my eighth grade graduation ceremony. Because my legs looked like a models. Abso-fucking-fabulous.
I wonder if I could get my legs to look like that ever again?
My brain is going to turn into mush in a short while. My Boy is coming home in 6 weeks. That’s, like, SOON. Much sooner than it was when he left, on Valentine’s Day. Which is a crappy way to spend the day- I wanted to throw up at all the commercials. Which also may have been a result from the stomach virus that we all had that week. Fun. Not. But my brain. Mush. Yup. It is a well known Mary phenomenom, that when big Events loom I develop a sudden regression to four years old. A little girl excitedly jumping up and down and bouncing off the walls with my joy. This is not appropriate behavior for a wife and mother. Not if I’m trying to convince people how sane and ready for another baby I am.
I’ve been spending a lot of time online in the past two days. More than usual, which for me is still a lot. I want to laugh at the online survey questions, the ones that want to know in what group are the number of hours you spend online in a week. Um. 16+? At a minimum.
And what have we learned from this? Kids. They suck your brain. The brain that I used to have I had to share with her, which means that at least a third of my pre-mommy brain is gone forever. This is likely the reason why I don’t remember where I left my shoes or my hair clips. I wish I could blame my hatred of pantyhose on this as well, but I’m afraid that I never did like them much. Except for a pair I wore once, to my eighth grade graduation ceremony. Because my legs looked like a models. Abso-fucking-fabulous.
I wonder if I could get my legs to look like that ever again?
One Tired Toddler has morphed into Two Wheezy Cough Toddler. Lovely. She woke up coughing and as soon as we settled into the rocker with a bottle and some cold medicine, the tv blew a fuse.
While I know that this won't kill me, I'll admit that it felt that way as I envisioned a whole five days without living room tv. Then I remembered the set in the nursery. So I dragged that out, hooked it up, and now we've got a smallish tv nesting on top of the dead one. The warm glow of kids PBS is soothing to my spirit, and the prospect of the ability to share my day with my electric nanny is comforting. Although what that says about me, that I need the nanny for myself- I'm not sure. Tiff can take or leave it, she really doesn't notice the tv much. Her mother's the raving drooling lunatic wandering around craving her media fix.
While I know that this won't kill me, I'll admit that it felt that way as I envisioned a whole five days without living room tv. Then I remembered the set in the nursery. So I dragged that out, hooked it up, and now we've got a smallish tv nesting on top of the dead one. The warm glow of kids PBS is soothing to my spirit, and the prospect of the ability to share my day with my electric nanny is comforting. Although what that says about me, that I need the nanny for myself- I'm not sure. Tiff can take or leave it, she really doesn't notice the tv much. Her mother's the raving drooling lunatic wandering around craving her media fix.
Friday, June 23, 2006
baby fever
The biological urge to reproduce has got to be one of the screwiest things about being alive. Why in the name of all that's holy do I want to do this again? Do I not remember the complications? The preeclampsia? The sudden "Hey, You're having a baby NOW" proclamation of the doctors? The tunnel vision that came over me with the three little words that will forever haunt my memories of April 29, 2005: Are You Shaved?
Who would have guessed that a grooming habit that I do for personal convenience, because I hate itching and sweating Down There every spring and summer, would turn into a potentially lifesaving procedure? The docs had an extra five minutes to work their magic, which was five extra minutes that they didn't have to run. And come to think of it- this is scary- just occurred to me as I sit here writing this- if there had not been a clear and very real danger of somebody's permanent harm/death, they would have been a tad more relaxed about it and not been running like they did.
I might be trying to process this childbirth for the rest of my life. It's like the hole left by a tooth, it's something I have this urge to pick at and I can't keep my thoughts out of it.
On most episodes of ER you see patients in crisis and the docs running around working their magic. Calm, unhurried, competence that gets rid of wasted emotion and movement. They focus on the crisis and not the hundred other things that must run through their heads. In the Zone.
Sometimes I think back and I can still see the naked relief on my surgeon's face, two days later, as she sat on the edge of my bed in her civies with her hair still wet from the morning's shower, telling me that she doesn't know why I walked into the clinic that morning but that she's glad that I did. She smiles, and I smile, and for the first time in weeks my mind is clear. The shock is starting to set in. It's only barely real to me that morning.
And now I am anxious to do this again? This has got to be part of the baby amnesia that mothers have. We forget the worst parts of delivery. We don't remember the fear, we forget the pain and terror. Even if there's no pain. We only remember the glorious moment after, when we see a child born. We become willing to do it again for the reward of sweet kissable baby head nestled under our chin.
Who would have guessed that a grooming habit that I do for personal convenience, because I hate itching and sweating Down There every spring and summer, would turn into a potentially lifesaving procedure? The docs had an extra five minutes to work their magic, which was five extra minutes that they didn't have to run. And come to think of it- this is scary- just occurred to me as I sit here writing this- if there had not been a clear and very real danger of somebody's permanent harm/death, they would have been a tad more relaxed about it and not been running like they did.
I might be trying to process this childbirth for the rest of my life. It's like the hole left by a tooth, it's something I have this urge to pick at and I can't keep my thoughts out of it.
On most episodes of ER you see patients in crisis and the docs running around working their magic. Calm, unhurried, competence that gets rid of wasted emotion and movement. They focus on the crisis and not the hundred other things that must run through their heads. In the Zone.
Sometimes I think back and I can still see the naked relief on my surgeon's face, two days later, as she sat on the edge of my bed in her civies with her hair still wet from the morning's shower, telling me that she doesn't know why I walked into the clinic that morning but that she's glad that I did. She smiles, and I smile, and for the first time in weeks my mind is clear. The shock is starting to set in. It's only barely real to me that morning.
And now I am anxious to do this again? This has got to be part of the baby amnesia that mothers have. We forget the worst parts of delivery. We don't remember the fear, we forget the pain and terror. Even if there's no pain. We only remember the glorious moment after, when we see a child born. We become willing to do it again for the reward of sweet kissable baby head nestled under our chin.
sticker madness
I had to go down to the base and get my department of defense stickers for the new car. I've been putting this off now for a month. At least. No real reason, I just didn't feel like it and never went. Everyone always says that the lines are so long, that you wait forever, that you'll grow old waiting for your turn through the line. So I was in and out in five minutes, tops.
My secret, you see, is to show up an hour after they open, in the week, when everybody else is supposed to be at work. It's too early for most retirees and stay at home spouses, and too late for all the poor buggers who have to punch the timeclock. There was one other car who showed up while I was there. And five strapping young men with guns who did the processing. I used to get so nervous driving down to base to do anything, because of all those strapping young men with guns. I thought they'd yell at me or something.
I guess you really can get used to anything. Now I don't even register the guns when I'm looking at them. Unless they're being pointed at someone.
My secret, you see, is to show up an hour after they open, in the week, when everybody else is supposed to be at work. It's too early for most retirees and stay at home spouses, and too late for all the poor buggers who have to punch the timeclock. There was one other car who showed up while I was there. And five strapping young men with guns who did the processing. I used to get so nervous driving down to base to do anything, because of all those strapping young men with guns. I thought they'd yell at me or something.
I guess you really can get used to anything. Now I don't even register the guns when I'm looking at them. Unless they're being pointed at someone.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
sleepless in san diego
Insomnia sucks. It's that old sleeplessness right now. Even though my body is crying out for the sweet unconsciousness of sleep, I can't relax enough to get there. So I'm sitting here in the middle of the night wondering if I dare take a sleeping pill to help ease the transition. Will it help? Yes. Do I want to feel like I'm relying on chemicals to get the rest? No.
I don't know how I do this sometimes. I don't remember how I used to be able to do this night after night and still function. Sleep has become unbearingly precious to me since Tiff was born. I'm ready to embrace my slothful self. Sleep! Shuteye! Wonderful things! The Precious!
We are tricksy, oh yes we are. Tricksy Mama. This is how I find Tiff's tickle spot and mock-growl into her belly until she shrieks with laughter. It is one of the most rewarding moments of my entire life, and I can't imagine never knowing it.
I don't know how I do this sometimes. I don't remember how I used to be able to do this night after night and still function. Sleep has become unbearingly precious to me since Tiff was born. I'm ready to embrace my slothful self. Sleep! Shuteye! Wonderful things! The Precious!
We are tricksy, oh yes we are. Tricksy Mama. This is how I find Tiff's tickle spot and mock-growl into her belly until she shrieks with laughter. It is one of the most rewarding moments of my entire life, and I can't imagine never knowing it.
goldfish delight
Nothing says Happy Toddler more than a kid mushing goldfish crackers into yellow mush, spitting them out on mommy's thighs, rubbing them around to feel the texture against my chunky legs, then putting them back in her mouth and eating them.
I swear, she's not a puppy. Really.
I swear, she's not a puppy. Really.
on the subject of boohbah
"And those are giant, uncircumcised penises. They come in many colors. So many colors!"
"Giggle"
"Wow. And they're so active! Jumping and dancing all over the place."
"Giggle"
"Yup. Uncircumcised penises. That's what Dooce calls them, and Mommy thinks it is very appropriate. But maybe we shouldn't tell Daddy."
"Giggle"
"Wow. And they're so active! Jumping and dancing all over the place."
"Giggle"
"Yup. Uncircumcised penises. That's what Dooce calls them, and Mommy thinks it is very appropriate. But maybe we shouldn't tell Daddy."
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
note to self
I'm nuts. Certifiable. Completely whacked. And even though this is One Tired Toddler, she does not want to go to sleep. Or should I say, Especially Because she's so tired. So why does this connect to my first statement?
I want another one.
My God, I'm insane. To want to face the toddler years in unison with a newborn. To want to face the challenges that will likely come with another preemie. The reflux, the doctors, the endless nights of colic and reflux in joint motion... I should just soak all my shirts in sour milk right now so that I can get used to the smell.
The goldfish cracker budget is hurting this week. I'm looking at buying tickets for my mother, my motherinlaw, it seems sometimes as though I'm financing the entire world. Out of love. I wish I didn't have to, I wish everybody was rich and could be giving me money instead of my trying to squeeze pennies. In token of this, if you've enjoyed even one thing on this site, leave a tip at the door.
Smartass-y comments are always welcome.
I want another one.
My God, I'm insane. To want to face the toddler years in unison with a newborn. To want to face the challenges that will likely come with another preemie. The reflux, the doctors, the endless nights of colic and reflux in joint motion... I should just soak all my shirts in sour milk right now so that I can get used to the smell.
The goldfish cracker budget is hurting this week. I'm looking at buying tickets for my mother, my motherinlaw, it seems sometimes as though I'm financing the entire world. Out of love. I wish I didn't have to, I wish everybody was rich and could be giving me money instead of my trying to squeeze pennies. In token of this, if you've enjoyed even one thing on this site, leave a tip at the door.
Smartass-y comments are always welcome.
I’m a bookaholic, and I’m not sorry!
I nearly wet myself when the current catalog of the book club I belong to (can that be any more drawn out? But they’re not paying me to sponsor them) arrived in last night’s mail. I don’t usually have this sort of relationship with their mailings, but this one is special. This one is a flat rate of 1.99 for shipping for the month’s order.
um……yeah……….
I blew my personal book budget for the year on this. Dropped it in the mail this morning before I could think wiser of it, and I’m considering pitching a tent out next to the mailboxes so that when the Package arrives I’ll be first in line.
Let’s keep this between the Net and me. Let’s not tell anyone. Shhhh…..
I nearly wet myself when the current catalog of the book club I belong to (can that be any more drawn out? But they’re not paying me to sponsor them) arrived in last night’s mail. I don’t usually have this sort of relationship with their mailings, but this one is special. This one is a flat rate of 1.99 for shipping for the month’s order.
um……yeah……….
I blew my personal book budget for the year on this. Dropped it in the mail this morning before I could think wiser of it, and I’m considering pitching a tent out next to the mailboxes so that when the Package arrives I’ll be first in line.
Let’s keep this between the Net and me. Let’s not tell anyone. Shhhh…..
my feet could go to sleep
I am wearing the most comfortable pair of shoes I own. I keep forgetting they exist, perhaps cause I never believe that I can wear them all day without falling out of them. Normally this is a problem I only have with my bras. Which I learned recently to fix by the simple matter of duct tape.
Yes, world, I duct tape my boobs into my bra about half the time. It’s an even chance every time you see me that my chest will crinkle when touched because of the taped goodness. I call it self-defense. Because I spent my yearly bra budget already this year on pretty, comfortable bras, and it’s not my fault that I fall out of them if I bend over past a certain angle.
But I saw these shoes poking out of my closet this morning and because it’s a hot day and because I intend to be kicking my shoes on and off all freaking day with the errands and such… I pulled them out and slid them on. Yes, they’re slides. Yes, they look really good on my feet and would look even better if I painted my toenails in that lovely watermelon color with the sparkles. And yes, I expect that I’ll be cursing them to hell at least twice before lunchtime.
But man, oh man… they feel good. Like big old hugs on my feet. So I’m going to suck it up today.
Yes, world, I duct tape my boobs into my bra about half the time. It’s an even chance every time you see me that my chest will crinkle when touched because of the taped goodness. I call it self-defense. Because I spent my yearly bra budget already this year on pretty, comfortable bras, and it’s not my fault that I fall out of them if I bend over past a certain angle.
But I saw these shoes poking out of my closet this morning and because it’s a hot day and because I intend to be kicking my shoes on and off all freaking day with the errands and such… I pulled them out and slid them on. Yes, they’re slides. Yes, they look really good on my feet and would look even better if I painted my toenails in that lovely watermelon color with the sparkles. And yes, I expect that I’ll be cursing them to hell at least twice before lunchtime.
But man, oh man… they feel good. Like big old hugs on my feet. So I’m going to suck it up today.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
and here we go again
Tiffany had a busy day of standing and sitting. Recently she’s discovered that she can stand up by the window in the dining room, and put her hands up on the sill for balance, and see Outside. This has caused great excitement. Excitement that can only be shown and properly displayed by wiggling her butt back and forth at great speed. If she had a tail, it would be wagging so fast that she would have wind burn.
I wonder how I ended up with a child who is determined to act like every small mammal on the planet. Maybe this isn’t that unusual. I’m betting that it’s not, that all other toddlers this age do the same thing. Something I missed out on, not being around little kids much my whole life. It’s a miracle that I wanted her so much, and am so happy at the thoughts of giving her siblings, especially if they all act like this. I’m going to raise a zoo. When I quote from Mary Poppins, “Is this a nursery or a bear pit?” I really hope that they don’t tell me it’s a bear pit. Knowing my offspring, it would be a challenge. Perhaps I should just make a pact right now to keep my mouth SHUT.
That’s not going to happen. Can you hear the Boy laughing at the very thought of this? “Silly Mary,” he’d say, kissing my forehead. “I love you.” There are days, he says, when all he can do is pat me on the head and tell me that I’m silly. If he didn’t, he’d either divorce me or kill me. And he wouldn’t want the paperwork that goes with either of those options.
We all have our little quirks. Those little insanities that make our loved ones love us, that make us unique. I wouldn’t trade my Boy or my Small Mammal for anything in the world. I just don’t want to ever wake up from this dream.
I wonder how I ended up with a child who is determined to act like every small mammal on the planet. Maybe this isn’t that unusual. I’m betting that it’s not, that all other toddlers this age do the same thing. Something I missed out on, not being around little kids much my whole life. It’s a miracle that I wanted her so much, and am so happy at the thoughts of giving her siblings, especially if they all act like this. I’m going to raise a zoo. When I quote from Mary Poppins, “Is this a nursery or a bear pit?” I really hope that they don’t tell me it’s a bear pit. Knowing my offspring, it would be a challenge. Perhaps I should just make a pact right now to keep my mouth SHUT.
That’s not going to happen. Can you hear the Boy laughing at the very thought of this? “Silly Mary,” he’d say, kissing my forehead. “I love you.” There are days, he says, when all he can do is pat me on the head and tell me that I’m silly. If he didn’t, he’d either divorce me or kill me. And he wouldn’t want the paperwork that goes with either of those options.
We all have our little quirks. Those little insanities that make our loved ones love us, that make us unique. I wouldn’t trade my Boy or my Small Mammal for anything in the world. I just don’t want to ever wake up from this dream.
mama's light
blue eyes watching me
mama, make the sun shine
mama, up UP!
blue eyes and rosebud lips
she’s more perfect than a fairy tale
an angel come to life in my arms
catch my gaze, laughing
mama!
light of my world
mama, make the sun shine
mama, up UP!
blue eyes and rosebud lips
she’s more perfect than a fairy tale
an angel come to life in my arms
catch my gaze, laughing
mama!
light of my world
Monday, June 19, 2006
if you're crazy and you know it raise your hands
not to put too fine a point upon it, but I’m nuts. Here I sit, after a nice afternoon following a nice quiet morning. Tiffany is sound asleep. I seriously consider waking her up just to play with her cute little chubby feet, and kiss her dimpled knees. Patience! She’s gonna be awake in a few minutes anyway. Let’s not rush things.
the rest of the day is scheduled for nothing more than playing with the light of my life. We’re going to work on her sitting, her upper body strength, using those gross motor skills and fine motor skills… I’m even going to bravely put her in the highchair for her dinner tonight. Like I’ve said before, I’m having serious trouble letting go right now. Part of it, yes, is due to the incredible mess she makes when attempting to self-feed. And I know that she’s going to make a mess, and I know that she needs to do this, and I know that I need to let her do what she needs to do. That being said, the lack of her upper body skills/strength has made our attempts at this to date very frustrating on both ends. I could say that it’s a battle of wills between us. Baby do! Mommy do! Baby do! Mommy do! There are times that I can hear my mother scolding me to share and play nicely with others.
This is going to be fun. I have managed to cut our daily schedule down to practically nothing medical. That alone is worth so much. With the normalish mommy-daughter time, I am bonding more and more with this cute little bundle of joy. I can’t wait to see the joy on her face when I show her a little brother or sister.
the rest of the day is scheduled for nothing more than playing with the light of my life. We’re going to work on her sitting, her upper body strength, using those gross motor skills and fine motor skills… I’m even going to bravely put her in the highchair for her dinner tonight. Like I’ve said before, I’m having serious trouble letting go right now. Part of it, yes, is due to the incredible mess she makes when attempting to self-feed. And I know that she’s going to make a mess, and I know that she needs to do this, and I know that I need to let her do what she needs to do. That being said, the lack of her upper body skills/strength has made our attempts at this to date very frustrating on both ends. I could say that it’s a battle of wills between us. Baby do! Mommy do! Baby do! Mommy do! There are times that I can hear my mother scolding me to share and play nicely with others.
This is going to be fun. I have managed to cut our daily schedule down to practically nothing medical. That alone is worth so much. With the normalish mommy-daughter time, I am bonding more and more with this cute little bundle of joy. I can’t wait to see the joy on her face when I show her a little brother or sister.
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