These days Essie is pretty major entertainment. I may or may not have talked before about what a weirdo she is, but she so is. In the most awesome way, of course. She has this demon voice that she loves using. Really deep and growly. It actually sounds painful but she doesn't seem to mind it. She just sits and curses us in her demon tongue.
Then in the next second she'll be singing in a high baby falsetto, as sweet as anything. She's a very, very talkative baby which surprises some people because she doesn't tend to be that way around anyone she's not that used to. Spend a few hours with her, though, and you'll likely witness her breaking into a monologue of some sort. Unfortunately she has an often-used combination of b's and m's that sound kind of like she's saying 'bad bad mama' but she's NOT saying that at all. At all.
She's not ambulatory yet, even if she is a giant creature who grows like a mutant weed. She can rotate herself in a full circle when we have her on the floor but that's as far as she travels. She can sit up without falling over much now and does kind of try to pull her legs up underneath her when she's on her stomach. She puts a lot of weight on her legs now if we hold her in a standing position but she gets lazy fast about that. I love that she can sit on the floor with a few pillows around her and keep herself amused with her toys for a long time.
Also she's FINALLY figured out how to bounce in her bouncy seat. I thought she was never going to figure it out, but she has and now she's kind of conflicted about the thing. She's been seeing it as more and more of a prison these days since she's outgrown the toy bar and I often put her in there when I need to leave the room for something. Now, though, she finds herself enjoying the bouncy-ness when she suddenly remembers that she doesn't really want to be strapped in there. Even with her Sesame Street circus within reach she's not that entertained, so here's hoping the bouncing brings on a new level of enjoyment.
We're excited about Christmas, it being Essie's first and all. She'll be seeing her cousin Orla again for the first time in a number of months and that should be awesome. She's at a stage where she loves kids, the closer to her size the better, and we're looking forward to her having a new appreciation for Orla this time around. I'm really happy that Ess has relatives that are close enough to her age on Andrew's side of the family, since I put off having kids a bit longer than my sisters did.
So, yeah. Things are good and I am always amused. Essie does weird, interesting things in little bursts, too, like the couple of days where she loudly sniffed her wrist, or the way the 'Bushel And A Peck' song had her mesmerized every time we sang it. Sadly that's not working as well now, since I liked how it helped me to get her to sleep. She's started laughing at her own farts, too, since I always laugh at hers. No one else's, though. Just hers.
Showing posts with label miscellaneous goodness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label miscellaneous goodness. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Monday, October 5, 2009
Oh, heck, almost a month since my last entry!
After having the end of spring and the entire summer off for parental leave Andrew went back to work toward the end of September. It's been an adjustment for me. Surprisingly more of one than I expected, really. When Essie first came home as a preemie not even having reached her due date I was definitely overwhelmed in a "HOLY CRAP THIS IS MY LIFE NOW," kind of way. I'd never had a baby of my own at home before, of course. Andrew still had a few weeks left of work to finish up so I was alone with her during the day right from the beginning. However, it was not too bad and I remember being relieved at how quickly I took to it.
With that in mind it was a bit surprising to me that being alone with her now would be a big adjustment. I figured it would be pretty seamless since we're so used to her and her ways and it wasn't like I was experiencing a brand new lifestyle altogether. I quickly discovered, though, how much I had come to rely on the little things that having Andrew at home afforded me. Just being able to make lunch or even go to the bathroom without having to consider what to do with Essie in the meantime is something I can't take for granted any longer.
Essie herself is so different now, too, of course. As a teeny newborn she was sleepy most of the time and I could easily set her down by herself for a few minutes since she wasn't going to move at all or even really know the difference. Now ... now she knows the difference. Boy, does she ever. She's awake for a LOT more of the day than she used to be and if she naps in the daytime they're little catnaps, at most half an hour to an hour if I'm lucky. Thankfully she's never cranky and always wakes up with a big grin, but keeping her amused is something of a challenge at times. If she wasn't a good night sleeper I might be at the end of my rope, but she's a champion night sleeper.
So it's all eat, sleep, diaper, play, eat, sleep, diaper, play around here. She's doing pretty well physically and developmentally as far as we can tell, although she's not too terribly excited about rolling over. She's rolled over from her front to her back a few times, and rolled from her back to her front for the first time tonight (yay!), but she's not super-energetic in that way. She's mostly happy to loll around on her back playing with her feet or sitting up in our laps and looking around. The bouncy seat and play mat still amuse her, too, but she likes us best for amusement.
She's growing in her hair, slowly but surely, and growing out of her clothes faster than we can buy them. (Well, that last isn't true since we've barely had to buy her any clothes ourselves due to the generosity of family.) Those seemingly long legs of hers puzzle me because they look short enough, but they hang out of open pants and get all bent up in outfits with feet. Oh, well. I have gotten to know which brands to buy by now.
In other news: I'm really feeling the need to start some kind of new creative project. Nothing serious and deadline-oriented since life has gotten so full, but definitely artistic and productive. My friend Colin has started a new photo-blog and it's a daily reminder to me that I want to do something that I love, too. We'll see if I can fit it in around maintaining Essie and some semblance of a life!
With that in mind it was a bit surprising to me that being alone with her now would be a big adjustment. I figured it would be pretty seamless since we're so used to her and her ways and it wasn't like I was experiencing a brand new lifestyle altogether. I quickly discovered, though, how much I had come to rely on the little things that having Andrew at home afforded me. Just being able to make lunch or even go to the bathroom without having to consider what to do with Essie in the meantime is something I can't take for granted any longer.
Essie herself is so different now, too, of course. As a teeny newborn she was sleepy most of the time and I could easily set her down by herself for a few minutes since she wasn't going to move at all or even really know the difference. Now ... now she knows the difference. Boy, does she ever. She's awake for a LOT more of the day than she used to be and if she naps in the daytime they're little catnaps, at most half an hour to an hour if I'm lucky. Thankfully she's never cranky and always wakes up with a big grin, but keeping her amused is something of a challenge at times. If she wasn't a good night sleeper I might be at the end of my rope, but she's a champion night sleeper.
So it's all eat, sleep, diaper, play, eat, sleep, diaper, play around here. She's doing pretty well physically and developmentally as far as we can tell, although she's not too terribly excited about rolling over. She's rolled over from her front to her back a few times, and rolled from her back to her front for the first time tonight (yay!), but she's not super-energetic in that way. She's mostly happy to loll around on her back playing with her feet or sitting up in our laps and looking around. The bouncy seat and play mat still amuse her, too, but she likes us best for amusement.
She's growing in her hair, slowly but surely, and growing out of her clothes faster than we can buy them. (Well, that last isn't true since we've barely had to buy her any clothes ourselves due to the generosity of family.) Those seemingly long legs of hers puzzle me because they look short enough, but they hang out of open pants and get all bent up in outfits with feet. Oh, well. I have gotten to know which brands to buy by now.
In other news: I'm really feeling the need to start some kind of new creative project. Nothing serious and deadline-oriented since life has gotten so full, but definitely artistic and productive. My friend Colin has started a new photo-blog and it's a daily reminder to me that I want to do something that I love, too. We'll see if I can fit it in around maintaining Essie and some semblance of a life!
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Baby talking.
It's difficult to imagine on any given day that I'll love Essie even more twenty-four hours later, but somehow it always happens. My heart; it grew twelve sizes.
She's just so hilarious and loving and charming and sweet. You know what she is, though? A daddy's girl. Through and through. Nothing makes her smile bigger than making eye contact with Andrew. If we're all sitting on the bed I'll sit her on my thigh and she'll start to put on a show for Andrew. She grins and grins and grins, making her 'talking' noises, then flings herself forward in his direction, making that fake cough noise that babies make to get attention. If she's lying down all he has to do is put his face above hers and she starts cooing and gooing and whispering at him. It's enough to kill you with cuteness.
Don't worry, she gives me lots of love, too, but she never, ever fails to give Andrew the smiles. Lucky bastard.
It struck me the other day how once upon a time I told myself I'd never use 'baby talk' with my kid(s), that I'd always use full, adult sentences and never use cutesy euphimisms or nicknames for anything. Ha ha, I was dumb. I DO use some cutesy words. Not sickeningly much, but things like 'tummy' instead of 'stomach', and 'toesies' intead of 'toes'. I wondered why, what's the instinct that makes these words pop out?
My view is that it has everything to do with the total, unsullied innocence of babies. Essie is nothing but genuine right now, there's no guile whatsoever to anything she does. And when interacting with a tiny being who is so untouched by the world it's difficult not to reinforce that, make everything as light and fun and lovely as possible. I know it won't last, that she'll learn about the world in very short order so right now, when her smiles are exactly what she's feeling inside and her cries or frowns are because she's genuinely uncomfortable or hungry or wet, well, I want to cherish it like nothing else.
Right now her toes can be toesies without her rolling her eyes or saying 'gawd, mom'. And when a stomach is so soft and round and kissable it just feels more proper to call it a tummy than a clinical, boring STOMACH. There are other things (like her bottle [bubs] and soother [soosy, pronounced like the 'oo' in book]) that have nicknames just because I'm insane about giving things nicknames, but that's not the same. It makes me wonder how I ever thought I could speak to Essie like an adult when dude, she is a baby.
"Shaughnessy, I understand you're telling me you're hungry. Allow me to feed you some formula."
"That's a cat, otherwise known as a feline. He is a Siamese, one of many breeds."
"Your diaper is emitting a rather foul aroma! It's high time we exchanged it for a clean one."
All right, so maybe I wouldn't be all stilted and stuff, but the baby talk just happens and I can't bring myself to feel silly. Essie responds to my voice and tone and words with so much happiness and joy. That's enough to make it OK.
She's just so hilarious and loving and charming and sweet. You know what she is, though? A daddy's girl. Through and through. Nothing makes her smile bigger than making eye contact with Andrew. If we're all sitting on the bed I'll sit her on my thigh and she'll start to put on a show for Andrew. She grins and grins and grins, making her 'talking' noises, then flings herself forward in his direction, making that fake cough noise that babies make to get attention. If she's lying down all he has to do is put his face above hers and she starts cooing and gooing and whispering at him. It's enough to kill you with cuteness.
Don't worry, she gives me lots of love, too, but she never, ever fails to give Andrew the smiles. Lucky bastard.
It struck me the other day how once upon a time I told myself I'd never use 'baby talk' with my kid(s), that I'd always use full, adult sentences and never use cutesy euphimisms or nicknames for anything. Ha ha, I was dumb. I DO use some cutesy words. Not sickeningly much, but things like 'tummy' instead of 'stomach', and 'toesies' intead of 'toes'. I wondered why, what's the instinct that makes these words pop out?
My view is that it has everything to do with the total, unsullied innocence of babies. Essie is nothing but genuine right now, there's no guile whatsoever to anything she does. And when interacting with a tiny being who is so untouched by the world it's difficult not to reinforce that, make everything as light and fun and lovely as possible. I know it won't last, that she'll learn about the world in very short order so right now, when her smiles are exactly what she's feeling inside and her cries or frowns are because she's genuinely uncomfortable or hungry or wet, well, I want to cherish it like nothing else.
Right now her toes can be toesies without her rolling her eyes or saying 'gawd, mom'. And when a stomach is so soft and round and kissable it just feels more proper to call it a tummy than a clinical, boring STOMACH. There are other things (like her bottle [bubs] and soother [soosy, pronounced like the 'oo' in book]) that have nicknames just because I'm insane about giving things nicknames, but that's not the same. It makes me wonder how I ever thought I could speak to Essie like an adult when dude, she is a baby.
"Shaughnessy, I understand you're telling me you're hungry. Allow me to feed you some formula."
"That's a cat, otherwise known as a feline. He is a Siamese, one of many breeds."
"Your diaper is emitting a rather foul aroma! It's high time we exchanged it for a clean one."
All right, so maybe I wouldn't be all stilted and stuff, but the baby talk just happens and I can't bring myself to feel silly. Essie responds to my voice and tone and words with so much happiness and joy. That's enough to make it OK.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Six months old.
Today was Essie's six-month birthday, or half-birthday as I like to call it. We didn't do anything to celebrate, of course, since she could care less and we had other things to do. Well, I did, anyhow, having an appointment to keep this afternoon. Andrew goes back to work at the end of the month so it's nice to take advantage of being able to go out by myself!
Anyhow: Essie is six months old and we're completely amazed. Yesterday was also her four-month homecoming anniversary, so we had two notable days in a row to feel great about. It's incredibly strange to remember what it was like to hold her as a brand-new preemie. It's even a bit weird to think what it was like to bring her home! I have pictures to look at of that time, but I have to admit that I find it very difficult to go back and look at the Facebook albums I made when she was in the hospital. This is odd to me, since at the time those pictures were precious and I couldn't stop myself from poring over them whenever I was at home where she wasn't. I loved to gaze at them, inspect her every tiny feature, obsess about how much weight she'd put on and whether it was noticeable yet.
Now, though, I get extremely emotional and upset when I look at them. Back then I was trying to be so strong and for the most part succeeding. I didn't have a lot of choice, really, and so I just did it. It was hard and it felt hard, but Essie herself was more important to me. Now that she's home, she's healthy, she's happy and chubby and thriving ... well, maybe now I'm feeling the backlash of how truly difficult the whole experience was. I've got some distance from it and gained some perspective that tells me just how traumatizing it is to nearly lose your baby, nearly die yourself and then have to deal with your baby being very sick and requiring intervention just to survive each day for two months. It ... kind of sucks.
It makes me overwhelmingly grateful for the baby she is now. She's so alive and every day Andrew and I look at her and marvel at her. She reminds us to stop what we're doing and just enjoy life since that's what she does all day long. Her smile makes us smile back every single time. It's impossible not to smile back at her, so smiles have increased exponentially around here. Watching her discover something new or figure out a new trick is like watching a magic show. Every day she's a little brighter, a little stronger, a little bit more aware and alert.
I didn't expect a baby that looks like me, but the older she gets the more people say she does. I don't mind, certainly, and I see so much of my family in her. Her hair is still indeterminate except for the two stubbornly white-blonde spots on the right side near the front. Her eyebrows seem reddish-blonde, but might be darkening up a bit. Her eyes are definitely not blue, but haven't settled on a positive true brown like mine and might end up being hazel; that particular brown-green that a few of my family members share. Her legs don't look especially long to me, but it's hard to find sleepers with long enough legs for her in her age range and so she might end up tall, something that would surprise me but not shock me totally since there are some taller women in my extended family, and there certainly are on Andrew's side of the family.
It's just exciting to watch her grow. She's only three months adjusted and keeping up well with the milestones for that age, but the changes just pop up every few days and I haven't gotten used to one when suddenly she's on to the next thing, soaking up experience as quick as she can. She saw her feet a while ago and watched them suspiciously, not sure how to get them within tasting reach, but grabbed them for the first time the other day at my mom's place while she was playing with an overhead toy, kicking at Big Bird and Cookie Monster. She still doesn't really understand them and hasn't grabbed them since, but to see her grip her pudgy toes with her fingers was amazing to me.
She's a baby, normal and lovely as can be, and I'm so very, very lucky to have her in my life.
Anyhow: Essie is six months old and we're completely amazed. Yesterday was also her four-month homecoming anniversary, so we had two notable days in a row to feel great about. It's incredibly strange to remember what it was like to hold her as a brand-new preemie. It's even a bit weird to think what it was like to bring her home! I have pictures to look at of that time, but I have to admit that I find it very difficult to go back and look at the Facebook albums I made when she was in the hospital. This is odd to me, since at the time those pictures were precious and I couldn't stop myself from poring over them whenever I was at home where she wasn't. I loved to gaze at them, inspect her every tiny feature, obsess about how much weight she'd put on and whether it was noticeable yet.
Now, though, I get extremely emotional and upset when I look at them. Back then I was trying to be so strong and for the most part succeeding. I didn't have a lot of choice, really, and so I just did it. It was hard and it felt hard, but Essie herself was more important to me. Now that she's home, she's healthy, she's happy and chubby and thriving ... well, maybe now I'm feeling the backlash of how truly difficult the whole experience was. I've got some distance from it and gained some perspective that tells me just how traumatizing it is to nearly lose your baby, nearly die yourself and then have to deal with your baby being very sick and requiring intervention just to survive each day for two months. It ... kind of sucks.
It makes me overwhelmingly grateful for the baby she is now. She's so alive and every day Andrew and I look at her and marvel at her. She reminds us to stop what we're doing and just enjoy life since that's what she does all day long. Her smile makes us smile back every single time. It's impossible not to smile back at her, so smiles have increased exponentially around here. Watching her discover something new or figure out a new trick is like watching a magic show. Every day she's a little brighter, a little stronger, a little bit more aware and alert.
I didn't expect a baby that looks like me, but the older she gets the more people say she does. I don't mind, certainly, and I see so much of my family in her. Her hair is still indeterminate except for the two stubbornly white-blonde spots on the right side near the front. Her eyebrows seem reddish-blonde, but might be darkening up a bit. Her eyes are definitely not blue, but haven't settled on a positive true brown like mine and might end up being hazel; that particular brown-green that a few of my family members share. Her legs don't look especially long to me, but it's hard to find sleepers with long enough legs for her in her age range and so she might end up tall, something that would surprise me but not shock me totally since there are some taller women in my extended family, and there certainly are on Andrew's side of the family.
It's just exciting to watch her grow. She's only three months adjusted and keeping up well with the milestones for that age, but the changes just pop up every few days and I haven't gotten used to one when suddenly she's on to the next thing, soaking up experience as quick as she can. She saw her feet a while ago and watched them suspiciously, not sure how to get them within tasting reach, but grabbed them for the first time the other day at my mom's place while she was playing with an overhead toy, kicking at Big Bird and Cookie Monster. She still doesn't really understand them and hasn't grabbed them since, but to see her grip her pudgy toes with her fingers was amazing to me.
She's a baby, normal and lovely as can be, and I'm so very, very lucky to have her in my life.
Monday, August 24, 2009
This is how she rolls.
Essie rolled over for the first time today. I decided to give her some tummy time since she was full of freaky energy and tummy time usually works some of that out by making her furious. Seriously; I have a hard time dealing with putting her on her stomach sometimes since doing something purposely that will make your baby cry kind of sucks. (Also I am not a fan of the twee name 'tummy time' but that's what the professionals call it and it kind of just rolls off the tongue.)
ANYhow; tummy time. I put her on her stomach and turned away for a few seconds to grab a toy to put in front of her to give her something to look at. I turned around and there she was on her back, her expression totally saying, "What just happened?"
I was amazed, so I put her on her stomach once more. She immediately rolled over to her back and looked pleased with herself. I flipped her, she did it again. We waited for Andrew to come back in to the room from having his shower and I showed him. She took a bit longer the last time since she'd tired herself out a bit by this point (yay) but she did it and we had to accept that we have a baby on her way to mobility. Yikes.
She's pretty much exactly on track with this milestone for her adjusted age, so that's nice. She has also, as Andrew put it, discovered 'loud'. She's started screaming conversationally, not just to indicate she's upset. Actually; she doesn't scream to indicate that she's upset, so this is very new for all of us and extremely so for our neighbours at 11:30 last night! Whatevs, she shut up pretty quickly once I gave her a bottle and snuggled her to sleep but I have noticed that her most active, frenetic behaviours usually start when she's getting tired. She doesn't really want to get tired, so she starts kicking her legs like crazy and talking and shooting her arms around. Then she gets frustrated because damn, she's tired, and her eyes get all red and she's kind of irritable while her eyelids are drooping shut. It's cute, but here's hoping it doesn't get worse!
Also she is growing out of her clothes at a rapid rate except for one onesie that I mentioned to Andrew today. It's a magic onesie that seems to be growing with her and getting looser on her rather than smaller. She's wearing it right now! Honestly I suspect that it's just cheap material that is stretching out a bit, but I like the thought of a magic onesie. She'll always have something to wear!
ANYhow; tummy time. I put her on her stomach and turned away for a few seconds to grab a toy to put in front of her to give her something to look at. I turned around and there she was on her back, her expression totally saying, "What just happened?"
I was amazed, so I put her on her stomach once more. She immediately rolled over to her back and looked pleased with herself. I flipped her, she did it again. We waited for Andrew to come back in to the room from having his shower and I showed him. She took a bit longer the last time since she'd tired herself out a bit by this point (yay) but she did it and we had to accept that we have a baby on her way to mobility. Yikes.
She's pretty much exactly on track with this milestone for her adjusted age, so that's nice. She has also, as Andrew put it, discovered 'loud'. She's started screaming conversationally, not just to indicate she's upset. Actually; she doesn't scream to indicate that she's upset, so this is very new for all of us and extremely so for our neighbours at 11:30 last night! Whatevs, she shut up pretty quickly once I gave her a bottle and snuggled her to sleep but I have noticed that her most active, frenetic behaviours usually start when she's getting tired. She doesn't really want to get tired, so she starts kicking her legs like crazy and talking and shooting her arms around. Then she gets frustrated because damn, she's tired, and her eyes get all red and she's kind of irritable while her eyelids are drooping shut. It's cute, but here's hoping it doesn't get worse!
Also she is growing out of her clothes at a rapid rate except for one onesie that I mentioned to Andrew today. It's a magic onesie that seems to be growing with her and getting looser on her rather than smaller. She's wearing it right now! Honestly I suspect that it's just cheap material that is stretching out a bit, but I like the thought of a magic onesie. She'll always have something to wear!
Friday, August 21, 2009
Owie. But also some stuff to be grateful for.
I haven't written in a bit because I had a week from hell and haven't felt much like getting out of bed, much less writing. At first I was all, 'Oh, I won't talk about it, it's so unladylike and so very unbecoming,' but on second thought I don't really care. I'll still try to use euphemistic language so as not to offend anyone's delicate sensibilities, but other than that ... hah.
So I've been having a week of uterus pirhanas and it's been driving me insane. Since having Essie PMS has been twice as bad (maybe more, since it wasn't something I suffered from much before and I considered myself lucky.) My usual depression/anxiety combo kicks into extreme overdrive and I feel like the world is ending and there is no hope for the future for anyone, ANYONE. So far I've been thinking I'm lucky since I'm not having 24/7 postpartum or anything like that, but the week leading up to the event is quite ungood in my brain. And during the actual event? Phyisical pain like crazy.
It's tiresome and I do not want. It's yet another reason to add to the list of countable blessings with regard to having a happy, low-fuss baby. If I felt like this and had to deal with hours of screaming or sleeplessness I'm sure I'd be looking for bridges or tall buildings right quick, but Essie is so very, very good. I also often feel awkward talking about that, like I should somehow not bring it up in case I'm perceived as bragging and thus alienating anyone reading who has to deal with a baby with colic or whatnot, but I have to give this kid her props. She's posessed of an extreme good nature and I appreciate her for it every single day. Taking it for granted? Not over here.
So, that's my last couple of weeks emotionally in a nutshell. LUCKY for me there was some extreme goodness in there. My family threw me an awesome baby shower last weekend. La hosted it and did all the prep work and inviting and whatnot (because she's so incredibly awesome and beautiful.) It was full of moms and aunts and uncles and cousins and sisters and in-laws and nieces and nephews. It was co-ed (obviously) and was a BLAST. It was also hot. Really, seriously hot. Essie spent the whole time in just a diaper, even though I'd originally dressed her in a sweet pink sundress and sandals. Most of the rest of us wished we could sit around in just our unders, but it just wouldn't have been right so we all stayed clothed and envied the freedom of pink, innocent babies.
Speaking of pink, innocent babies here she is sitting in her brand new Bumbo at the shower:
SO CUTE. She's got her frog in there with her to help her fit a bit better since she's still just a teeny bit small for it. Not for long, though!
So I've been having a week of uterus pirhanas and it's been driving me insane. Since having Essie PMS has been twice as bad (maybe more, since it wasn't something I suffered from much before and I considered myself lucky.) My usual depression/anxiety combo kicks into extreme overdrive and I feel like the world is ending and there is no hope for the future for anyone, ANYONE. So far I've been thinking I'm lucky since I'm not having 24/7 postpartum or anything like that, but the week leading up to the event is quite ungood in my brain. And during the actual event? Phyisical pain like crazy.
It's tiresome and I do not want. It's yet another reason to add to the list of countable blessings with regard to having a happy, low-fuss baby. If I felt like this and had to deal with hours of screaming or sleeplessness I'm sure I'd be looking for bridges or tall buildings right quick, but Essie is so very, very good. I also often feel awkward talking about that, like I should somehow not bring it up in case I'm perceived as bragging and thus alienating anyone reading who has to deal with a baby with colic or whatnot, but I have to give this kid her props. She's posessed of an extreme good nature and I appreciate her for it every single day. Taking it for granted? Not over here.
So, that's my last couple of weeks emotionally in a nutshell. LUCKY for me there was some extreme goodness in there. My family threw me an awesome baby shower last weekend. La hosted it and did all the prep work and inviting and whatnot (because she's so incredibly awesome and beautiful.) It was full of moms and aunts and uncles and cousins and sisters and in-laws and nieces and nephews. It was co-ed (obviously) and was a BLAST. It was also hot. Really, seriously hot. Essie spent the whole time in just a diaper, even though I'd originally dressed her in a sweet pink sundress and sandals. Most of the rest of us wished we could sit around in just our unders, but it just wouldn't have been right so we all stayed clothed and envied the freedom of pink, innocent babies.
Speaking of pink, innocent babies here she is sitting in her brand new Bumbo at the shower:
SO CUTE. She's got her frog in there with her to help her fit a bit better since she's still just a teeny bit small for it. Not for long, though!
Friday, August 7, 2009
Good times, good times.
Last weekend we went to Ottawa for the annual cottage weekend at Colin's family cottage. It's something I really look forward to every year, and this year even more so since it was Essie's first time. She got to meet Colin (the birthday boy) and Jen for the first time which was very awesome.
We may have overestimated Essie's ability to deal with lots of travel, though. We stayed in Ottawa at night and traveled to the cottage in Val Des Monts during the day instead of staying there overnight. I figured it would be more sensitive to the other cottage-goers in the sense that they wouldn't be disturbed by overnight baby noises or the early rising of babies that often happens. I also figured it would be easier to care for Essie in the city and that part was definitely true.
Essie was not quite herself, though, and I think perhaps she didn't quite cope with the back-and-forthing in the car coupled with the exuberance of the cottage atmosphere as well as we'd hoped. This isn't to say she was screechy or anything. No; she was just more somber and a bit more whimpery than we're used to with her. When we had her to ourselves back at Colin and Jen's place she was smiley and sweet as usual.
But O, the good times we had eating fabulous cupcakes, playing games, talking and even doing karaoke! (It was my first karaoke experience, and even though I sucked it was fun.) There was an incident, however. Andrew usually sets off a fireworks display after dark on one of the nights, and this year the finale firework malfunctioned and he ended up burning a couple of his fingers. Not terribly badly, thankfully, but just in case it was worse than it looked Andrew went to the emergency room back in Ottawa. This meant that Colin and another lovely couple accompanied us back to town so that Andrew wouldn't have to drive, then they headed back in one car together. We appreciated that a LOT, since I currently don't have a license and couldn't drive the rental.
His burns turned out to be mostly second-degree and warranted nothing more than some bandaids, so all is well if slightly sore.
We came home on Tuesday to our sweet cats and Essie has been doing very well. She had a pediatrician's appointment today and she's just, just shy of thirteen pounds. It's a bit less than we expected based on how she's been gaining over the last few months, but she put on almost two pounds since her last visit so that's still pretty substantial! She's getting so big and active and LOUD. She's really discovered her 'complaining' voice, and it's got quite a volume. I'm not surprised, but the days of the growls are officially over now and I'm already nostalgic for my tiny, grunty little baby. Of course this big, smiley, talkative baby is just as lovely and even more engaging but damn if they don't change overnight.
We may have overestimated Essie's ability to deal with lots of travel, though. We stayed in Ottawa at night and traveled to the cottage in Val Des Monts during the day instead of staying there overnight. I figured it would be more sensitive to the other cottage-goers in the sense that they wouldn't be disturbed by overnight baby noises or the early rising of babies that often happens. I also figured it would be easier to care for Essie in the city and that part was definitely true.
Essie was not quite herself, though, and I think perhaps she didn't quite cope with the back-and-forthing in the car coupled with the exuberance of the cottage atmosphere as well as we'd hoped. This isn't to say she was screechy or anything. No; she was just more somber and a bit more whimpery than we're used to with her. When we had her to ourselves back at Colin and Jen's place she was smiley and sweet as usual.
But O, the good times we had eating fabulous cupcakes, playing games, talking and even doing karaoke! (It was my first karaoke experience, and even though I sucked it was fun.) There was an incident, however. Andrew usually sets off a fireworks display after dark on one of the nights, and this year the finale firework malfunctioned and he ended up burning a couple of his fingers. Not terribly badly, thankfully, but just in case it was worse than it looked Andrew went to the emergency room back in Ottawa. This meant that Colin and another lovely couple accompanied us back to town so that Andrew wouldn't have to drive, then they headed back in one car together. We appreciated that a LOT, since I currently don't have a license and couldn't drive the rental.
His burns turned out to be mostly second-degree and warranted nothing more than some bandaids, so all is well if slightly sore.
We came home on Tuesday to our sweet cats and Essie has been doing very well. She had a pediatrician's appointment today and she's just, just shy of thirteen pounds. It's a bit less than we expected based on how she's been gaining over the last few months, but she put on almost two pounds since her last visit so that's still pretty substantial! She's getting so big and active and LOUD. She's really discovered her 'complaining' voice, and it's got quite a volume. I'm not surprised, but the days of the growls are officially over now and I'm already nostalgic for my tiny, grunty little baby. Of course this big, smiley, talkative baby is just as lovely and even more engaging but damn if they don't change overnight.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Overdue update.
It's been a busy week so I haven't been writing anything anywhere except on Facebook. Oh, those statuses are such an easy way to give little, pithy updates. I have a Twitter that I don't use much because of Facebook statuses, even, and I have it set so that my tweets become my status.
Anyhow, I was overcome with sudden panic about the fact that we want to move to a two-bedroom apartment and actually have a room for Essie and her stuff rather than just having her things piled haphazardly around. Soon there will be a necessity for actual furniture for this kid, and that day is coming more quickly than I'd even thought. We've lived in this apartment for going on three years now and it's a small, dark little cave that we've crammed with bunches of junk and I've started the process of winnowing through the junk and generally cleaning the heck out of it and trying to get rid of stuff. We want to give notice and I stress out about prospective tenants looking at my living space, so figured this time around I'd better be highly proactive.
The worst part, of course, is when you feel like you're only moving the mess around, not actually resolving it. Sigh.
Essie, though, is doing so, so fantastically well. The smiles! The talking! You can tell she's really trying to emulate the noises we make and the way we move our mouths and it's hilarious. Check it:
My baby is the smartest and cutest! OK, maybe not but she seems that way to me. ;)
We took her to an infant massage class that our friend Candice, a registered massage therapist, ran. It was very cool to attend and learn how to squish our baby girl. There were some parts of it that Ess didn't like as much as others, but by the end she was totally relaxed and happy. I plan to do it as much as possible. What surprised me most, actually, was the facial massage stuff. I figured she'd hate that since she gets agitated when things are touching her face, but she loved it. It was the hand massage that bothered her most. The back stuff didn't go over super-well with her, but mostly because it involved her being on her stomach and nothing pisses her off like tummy time. SO: If you have a newborn or infant and think that sounds like fun, make sure you check Candice's site for class schedules. I might do it again just for a refresher sometime!
I'm sure there are a million more things that I'd intended to write about but my mind is totally blanking on them right now. Essie's not feeling so hot today so I'm a bit worried about that even though it's nothing serious. Just more sleeping than usual and more crankiness, plus a touch warm-feeling. It's probably just a growth-spurt and I'll find out tomorrow that she doesn't fit into any of her onesies any more. She's like a weed!
Anyhow, I was overcome with sudden panic about the fact that we want to move to a two-bedroom apartment and actually have a room for Essie and her stuff rather than just having her things piled haphazardly around. Soon there will be a necessity for actual furniture for this kid, and that day is coming more quickly than I'd even thought. We've lived in this apartment for going on three years now and it's a small, dark little cave that we've crammed with bunches of junk and I've started the process of winnowing through the junk and generally cleaning the heck out of it and trying to get rid of stuff. We want to give notice and I stress out about prospective tenants looking at my living space, so figured this time around I'd better be highly proactive.
The worst part, of course, is when you feel like you're only moving the mess around, not actually resolving it. Sigh.
Essie, though, is doing so, so fantastically well. The smiles! The talking! You can tell she's really trying to emulate the noises we make and the way we move our mouths and it's hilarious. Check it:
My baby is the smartest and cutest! OK, maybe not but she seems that way to me. ;)
We took her to an infant massage class that our friend Candice, a registered massage therapist, ran. It was very cool to attend and learn how to squish our baby girl. There were some parts of it that Ess didn't like as much as others, but by the end she was totally relaxed and happy. I plan to do it as much as possible. What surprised me most, actually, was the facial massage stuff. I figured she'd hate that since she gets agitated when things are touching her face, but she loved it. It was the hand massage that bothered her most. The back stuff didn't go over super-well with her, but mostly because it involved her being on her stomach and nothing pisses her off like tummy time. SO: If you have a newborn or infant and think that sounds like fun, make sure you check Candice's site for class schedules. I might do it again just for a refresher sometime!
I'm sure there are a million more things that I'd intended to write about but my mind is totally blanking on them right now. Essie's not feeling so hot today so I'm a bit worried about that even though it's nothing serious. Just more sleeping than usual and more crankiness, plus a touch warm-feeling. It's probably just a growth-spurt and I'll find out tomorrow that she doesn't fit into any of her onesies any more. She's like a weed!
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Home again, home again.
We spent the last two weeks in Kingston with my mom. It was awesome and I knew that the danger in doing so would be that once the time came to leave I wouldn't want to. I was right and it was really, really hard. Essie had gotten used to her grandma's love and attention and it was so difficult to tear her away from that. I also hate that my mom can't see Ess whenever she wants to. :(
So I was pretty blue when we got home but Essie doesn't let me sit around feeling sorry for myself too much, so it's been the usual day-to-day stuff. It's amazing how much she changed over just the last two weeks, though! She grew her eyelashes in, finally, and looks like a real sweetie with them. She lost a ton of hair on the top of her head and it's already growing back in super-fast. The biggest change, though, is her activity level. She's suddenly much more interested in what's going on around her and while she's always been a wiggler, now she's a REAL wiggler and seems to want to be moving around a lot.
Of course she can't do too much, so this pisses her off a tiny bit. Poor bug.
We had a pediatrician's appointment today and Essie weighed in at 11 pounds, four ounces! So a bit of a gain since this past Thursday at the hospital. The doctor said she hardly even recognized her from the last visit and admired how she's chubbed up and looks bright and happy. She said that Ess was due for her next shots, though, so did them and this did not go over well with our little girl. They're given in the fronts of the thighs so the doctor had me hold Ess while she did them and while the first one made her squawk, the second one made her cry for real and it broke my heart. Essie has the saddest cry ever, especially since she never really cries. We thought she'd been working on crying lately, but this ... this was a cry.
I jammed her soother in her mouth and she resorted to sucking it sadly instead of crying. My poor, poor bug. For the rest of the trip home (including a stop at the grocery store) she was solemn and a bit sad, but she was OK once we got here and I cuddled her, fed her and then sent her off to the bedroom with her dad so I could do some stuff. They're both sleeping hard on the bed now.
Shhhh, they're 'leepin.
Anyhow, things with Ess are great. We're getting really spoiled by the reactions from health professionals about how great and healthy and vibrant she is. It'll come as a shock if anyone just goes, "Meh, she's all right. Pretty average." Even if she is average for a baby of her adjusted age, the way she started off will always make me look at her and marvel, I'm sure.
So I was pretty blue when we got home but Essie doesn't let me sit around feeling sorry for myself too much, so it's been the usual day-to-day stuff. It's amazing how much she changed over just the last two weeks, though! She grew her eyelashes in, finally, and looks like a real sweetie with them. She lost a ton of hair on the top of her head and it's already growing back in super-fast. The biggest change, though, is her activity level. She's suddenly much more interested in what's going on around her and while she's always been a wiggler, now she's a REAL wiggler and seems to want to be moving around a lot.
Of course she can't do too much, so this pisses her off a tiny bit. Poor bug.
We had a pediatrician's appointment today and Essie weighed in at 11 pounds, four ounces! So a bit of a gain since this past Thursday at the hospital. The doctor said she hardly even recognized her from the last visit and admired how she's chubbed up and looks bright and happy. She said that Ess was due for her next shots, though, so did them and this did not go over well with our little girl. They're given in the fronts of the thighs so the doctor had me hold Ess while she did them and while the first one made her squawk, the second one made her cry for real and it broke my heart. Essie has the saddest cry ever, especially since she never really cries. We thought she'd been working on crying lately, but this ... this was a cry.
I jammed her soother in her mouth and she resorted to sucking it sadly instead of crying. My poor, poor bug. For the rest of the trip home (including a stop at the grocery store) she was solemn and a bit sad, but she was OK once we got here and I cuddled her, fed her and then sent her off to the bedroom with her dad so I could do some stuff. They're both sleeping hard on the bed now.
Anyhow, things with Ess are great. We're getting really spoiled by the reactions from health professionals about how great and healthy and vibrant she is. It'll come as a shock if anyone just goes, "Meh, she's all right. Pretty average." Even if she is average for a baby of her adjusted age, the way she started off will always make me look at her and marvel, I'm sure.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Mid-trip update.
So we've been here at Essie's Grandma's place now for over a week and it's been so incredibly awesome for me to see the two of them getting so much quality time together. I think there's nothing in the world my mom loves so much as a tiny, sweet baby and if that baby is in the slightest distress she's ON IT.
Like, the other day my mom had had insomnia the night before and hadn't slept a wink. She went off to bed, but got up when she heard Essie crying in the living room with me, took her from me and walked her around until she was soothed and sleepy again. Then gave her back to me and went to bed! That's love.
Essie's been more cranky than usual the last few days because she has thrush and the medicine for it is making her feel sick. The med info says it can cause diarrhea, intestinal discomfort, stomach pain and nausea. Poor little bug. She hasn't been freaking out but she's definitely been more serious when awake and seeming more uncomfortable overall. When Essie cries you know she's in actual discomfort, not just complaining for complaining's sake. She doesn't cry much at all, this kid, so hearing it at all is startling and worrying.
Hopefully the thrush will be all cleared up soon and she'll be back to her normal, mellow self. Other than that excitement we've pretty much just been chilling out and hanging with my mom. She's bought Ess a bunch of cute clothes, of course, and we finally managed to find a couple of sunhats after discovering they're strangely difficult to find during the actual summer season. Here are some pics from the last week:
Crashed out on the sofa on a pretty brutally hot day. Just a diaper was sufficient for clothes!
After her hot nap, cooling off by a window on Grandma's lap.
Getting some morning cuddles on Grandma's shoulder.
Leaving WalMart, the only store in which we could find any sunhats for newborns. Essie's rocking it.
Like, the other day my mom had had insomnia the night before and hadn't slept a wink. She went off to bed, but got up when she heard Essie crying in the living room with me, took her from me and walked her around until she was soothed and sleepy again. Then gave her back to me and went to bed! That's love.
Essie's been more cranky than usual the last few days because she has thrush and the medicine for it is making her feel sick. The med info says it can cause diarrhea, intestinal discomfort, stomach pain and nausea. Poor little bug. She hasn't been freaking out but she's definitely been more serious when awake and seeming more uncomfortable overall. When Essie cries you know she's in actual discomfort, not just complaining for complaining's sake. She doesn't cry much at all, this kid, so hearing it at all is startling and worrying.
Hopefully the thrush will be all cleared up soon and she'll be back to her normal, mellow self. Other than that excitement we've pretty much just been chilling out and hanging with my mom. She's bought Ess a bunch of cute clothes, of course, and we finally managed to find a couple of sunhats after discovering they're strangely difficult to find during the actual summer season. Here are some pics from the last week:
Crashed out on the sofa on a pretty brutally hot day. Just a diaper was sufficient for clothes!
After her hot nap, cooling off by a window on Grandma's lap.
Getting some morning cuddles on Grandma's shoulder.
Leaving WalMart, the only store in which we could find any sunhats for newborns. Essie's rocking it.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Essie is more of a mellow yellow kid.
I can't stop kissing her. It's mostly her cheeks. She has the most pokeable, kissable, pinchable cheeks ever and when she's awake and interactive I just HAVE to kiss them. This, of course, guarantees that her first words will not be anything like 'boo' or 'gee' or 'dada' but will instead be, "If you do not stop invading my personal space I am moving in with GRANDMA."
Sucks to be you, kid. She'll kiss you too. Plus take you to Sunday School.
But O, how I love this baby. Her Aunt Jenny is in town this week and we went to Fresh to have dinner with her last night. Jenny commented that Essie is a pretty chill, calm baby and she really is (for the most part.) Of course she had a bit of an out-of-character cranky period after we got home but that's OK. Her cranky periods are so few and far between that we just count our blessings every day and make the most of what could very well be a temporary state. For the other 22 hours of the day she is so fun and funny and charming. And chubby.
I read in someone's blog a few years back (and I don't recall which blogger it was although I know it was one of the upper echelon of 'mommybloggers') that they would totally stalk their baby on MySpace. I laughed at the time because it's funny, but OH MY HECK it's true. Andrew and I have been trading off every other night of taking the 'Essie shift' where one of us is responsible for waking up and taking care of feeding and diapers when she needs it. The thing is that when I'm in bed and I wake up and hear her making some kind of noise out in the living room with Andrew it takes everything in me to just stay in bed and go back to sleep. I want to go to her, I want to hold her in my arms and snuggle her close and kiss her head and nuzzle her neck. She's so freaking nice and lovely and I enjoy her so much.
I want to describe to you so badly what the things are that fire me up so much with love for her. The problem is that it all sounds kind of crazy or too commonplace. Like how she drinks her bottle. The way she puts her hands on the sides of it and makes a little 'nyuck nyuck' noise when she swallows and how she keeps her eyes on mine. Then she stops drinking and sighs and takes a little rest (never letting go of the nipple, mind you) then digs right back in.
See? I just described a baby drinking a bottle. But ... but it's ESSIE drinking it, see, and she's ESSIE and ... and ... argh. I can't make it work with words.
I joke that she's the best baby ever and there will never be a better baby, but at the same time I feel very strongly that I want to raise her with the most realistic expectations possible. I don't want her to be saddled with the idea that she's a special, special flower and a total genius and a cut above most other kids. I don't buy into this Indigo Kid bullshit which is where a lot of that 'You're the greatest and other people just don't understand you!' stuff leads. Here's a freaking awesome quote from the Wikipedia:
Yeah. Pfft. BUT: I want Essie to be who she is. I want her to go to school and play with other kids and learn what she learns and be good at some things and not so good at others. I want her to gravitate toward the things she's interested in and help her pursue the things she's most passionate about. I don't want her to feel any pressure to always be better than the rest and the smartest and the one that stands out most. I just want her to be happy to do her personal best and understand that that is what's most important.
Wait, wait!
HAhahahahahaha! So ... basically they're assholes? Got it.
Sucks to be you, kid. She'll kiss you too. Plus take you to Sunday School.
But O, how I love this baby. Her Aunt Jenny is in town this week and we went to Fresh to have dinner with her last night. Jenny commented that Essie is a pretty chill, calm baby and she really is (for the most part.) Of course she had a bit of an out-of-character cranky period after we got home but that's OK. Her cranky periods are so few and far between that we just count our blessings every day and make the most of what could very well be a temporary state. For the other 22 hours of the day she is so fun and funny and charming. And chubby.
I read in someone's blog a few years back (and I don't recall which blogger it was although I know it was one of the upper echelon of 'mommybloggers') that they would totally stalk their baby on MySpace. I laughed at the time because it's funny, but OH MY HECK it's true. Andrew and I have been trading off every other night of taking the 'Essie shift' where one of us is responsible for waking up and taking care of feeding and diapers when she needs it. The thing is that when I'm in bed and I wake up and hear her making some kind of noise out in the living room with Andrew it takes everything in me to just stay in bed and go back to sleep. I want to go to her, I want to hold her in my arms and snuggle her close and kiss her head and nuzzle her neck. She's so freaking nice and lovely and I enjoy her so much.
I want to describe to you so badly what the things are that fire me up so much with love for her. The problem is that it all sounds kind of crazy or too commonplace. Like how she drinks her bottle. The way she puts her hands on the sides of it and makes a little 'nyuck nyuck' noise when she swallows and how she keeps her eyes on mine. Then she stops drinking and sighs and takes a little rest (never letting go of the nipple, mind you) then digs right back in.
See? I just described a baby drinking a bottle. But ... but it's ESSIE drinking it, see, and she's ESSIE and ... and ... argh. I can't make it work with words.
I joke that she's the best baby ever and there will never be a better baby, but at the same time I feel very strongly that I want to raise her with the most realistic expectations possible. I don't want her to be saddled with the idea that she's a special, special flower and a total genius and a cut above most other kids. I don't buy into this Indigo Kid bullshit which is where a lot of that 'You're the greatest and other people just don't understand you!' stuff leads. Here's a freaking awesome quote from the Wikipedia:
Skeptics suggest that the indigo phenomenon is due to parents preferring to believe their children are special, rather than having a medical diagnosis which implies damage or imperfection. Also criticized are the traits used to describe children, which have been compared to the Forer effect - so vague as to be able to apply to anyone.
Yeah. Pfft. BUT: I want Essie to be who she is. I want her to go to school and play with other kids and learn what she learns and be good at some things and not so good at others. I want her to gravitate toward the things she's interested in and help her pursue the things she's most passionate about. I don't want her to feel any pressure to always be better than the rest and the smartest and the one that stands out most. I just want her to be happy to do her personal best and understand that that is what's most important.
Wait, wait!
Descriptions of indigo children include the belief that they are empathetic, curious, possess a clear sense of self-definition and purpose, strong-willed, independent and unconventional. Indigo children have also been described as having a strong feeling of entitlement, or "deserving to be here." Other alleged traits include a high intelligence quotient, intuitive, resistance to authority, disruptive, impatient and easily bored. According to Tober and Carroll, indigo children function poorly in conventional schools due to their rejection of authority, being smarter than their teachers and a lack of response to guilt-, fear- or manipulation-based discipline.
HAhahahahahaha! So ... basically they're assholes? Got it.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Good, healthy baby.
Essie had a pediatrician's appointment on Monday. I don't mind taking her to them because it's always nice to have verification that she's continuing to do well, but I was getting a little irritated about hearing that the fact that my daughter was gaining weight quickly was undesirable. I was not looking forward to hearing about it again.
Thankfully this time the pediatrician had nothing but good things to say! Essie weighed eight pounds, four ounces (up from seven pounds, fourteen ounces at the last visit two weeks ago) but there was no finger shaking this time. The doctor just praised her health and said that no one would guess she was a preemie if they didn't know what had happened. She also said that I was doing a good job as a mom, which was pretty nice to hear, you know, coming from a doctor.
I'm so used to how Essie is that I sometimes get confused on whether she's ahead in certain things. There was a five-day-old baby in the waiting room while we were there and her grandma commented that Essie must be close to the same age. Essie was asleep at the time so they didn't see what she's like when she's awake, but she's certainly more alert and focused than that newborn was. She already tracks things with her eyes (in a limited way) and just overall seems more engaged and aware. This baby was all limp and foggy and even though it was adorable, Essie seems more 'human' to me.
Of course she's had lots more time to practice being a tiny person out in the big world so it shouldn't surprise me, but it does kind of confuse me from time to time. I have also still been trying to settle on a good answer for when strangers ask me how old she is without having to go into the really long explanation. I'm going to start just saying her actual age and leaving it at that. Some people will realize she's pretty tiny for her age, and some people won't know the difference. I won't offer more info unless they ask specifically.
It's not that I don't want to talk to people about it or her. It's just that lots of people ask, and if I told the whole story every time I'd get pretty tired of it. In the waiting room at the pediatrician's office is OK since we're all there for the same reason and have babies in common, but on the bus or in line at Shopper's Drug Mart ... not so much.
Thankfully this time the pediatrician had nothing but good things to say! Essie weighed eight pounds, four ounces (up from seven pounds, fourteen ounces at the last visit two weeks ago) but there was no finger shaking this time. The doctor just praised her health and said that no one would guess she was a preemie if they didn't know what had happened. She also said that I was doing a good job as a mom, which was pretty nice to hear, you know, coming from a doctor.
I'm so used to how Essie is that I sometimes get confused on whether she's ahead in certain things. There was a five-day-old baby in the waiting room while we were there and her grandma commented that Essie must be close to the same age. Essie was asleep at the time so they didn't see what she's like when she's awake, but she's certainly more alert and focused than that newborn was. She already tracks things with her eyes (in a limited way) and just overall seems more engaged and aware. This baby was all limp and foggy and even though it was adorable, Essie seems more 'human' to me.
Of course she's had lots more time to practice being a tiny person out in the big world so it shouldn't surprise me, but it does kind of confuse me from time to time. I have also still been trying to settle on a good answer for when strangers ask me how old she is without having to go into the really long explanation. I'm going to start just saying her actual age and leaving it at that. Some people will realize she's pretty tiny for her age, and some people won't know the difference. I won't offer more info unless they ask specifically.
It's not that I don't want to talk to people about it or her. It's just that lots of people ask, and if I told the whole story every time I'd get pretty tired of it. In the waiting room at the pediatrician's office is OK since we're all there for the same reason and have babies in common, but on the bus or in line at Shopper's Drug Mart ... not so much.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Nearly a sneeze.
We went to May and Dan's tonight for a visit, where Essie got to meet Candice and Rich for the first time, as well as the fabulous Sabrina! It was a good time and Essie was her usual mellow, growly self. At one point Maysie said that she hoped we'd be getting some of her growls and whatnot on record, so when we got home I decided to take some video using our camera.
The result? Not so much growling, but I did manage to accidentally catch her making her sneeze noise! I wasn't expecting it at all, but she started as soon as I started filming. If she almost sneezes she does it, or she does it after a big sneeze. Golly, it's cute!
Also, as you can see, putting a soother in a baby's mouth while filming them is kind of hard. Nearly went right up her nose, there. You can kind of hear me giggling about it while she's all, 'get it right, mama.'
The result? Not so much growling, but I did manage to accidentally catch her making her sneeze noise! I wasn't expecting it at all, but she started as soon as I started filming. If she almost sneezes she does it, or she does it after a big sneeze. Golly, it's cute!
Also, as you can see, putting a soother in a baby's mouth while filming them is kind of hard. Nearly went right up her nose, there. You can kind of hear me giggling about it while she's all, 'get it right, mama.'
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Guess what today is!
Happy Due Date, Essie!
That's right; today is the day Essie was 'supposed' to be born. Or, the most likely day on which she could have been born. Of course things didn't exactly go to plan, but I was attached to this date for a number of reasons. It was my grandma Morrow's birthday, it's one of Andrew's wonderful cousins birthday, and it just has nice vibes what with all the partying and goodtimes on May 24 weekend.
But yeah ... not so much, huh? Instead of sitting here with a massive belly and feeling as supremely uncomfortable as a pregnant woman can feel (which you know I would be; I am very accomplished at feeling physically uncomfortable) I am sitting here typing on my laptop with a little warm baby sleeping cradled against my left shoulder. I've been a mom for almost three months now. Essie's been home with us for three weeks! What should have been a third trimester became a scary medical journey that I never want to repeat again.
But despite the rough start Essie's so great. So healthy and strong. She's growing and changing incredibly quickly, fattening up and getting more and more aware of us and her surroundings. I've said multiple times to multiple people that her prematurity had nothing to do with her, technically. Pre-eclampsia is about the mother's body malfunctioning, and Essie wasn't the problem physically. She was trying to grow and flourish in there and would have if I hadn't crossed my wires. So I believe very strongly that this is why she managed to grow and flourish like she did in the NICU. She wasn't sick, she didn't need any intervention; she was just early, evicted from her safe haven and forced to deal with a ton of obstacles as a result. In response she basically kicked the ass of all those obstacles and now here she is, a full-term-age baby with fat cheeks (both kinds), a great appetite, a friendly, resilient personality and all the love in the world at her fingertips.
Sometimes when she was in the NICU I felt like the day I got to be a 'real' mom would never come. The constraints of having a NICU baby are many and I've talked a lot about them before. Since she came home I've come to appreciate how that time allowed me to regain my strength and health while helping her develop hers and I'm thankful for it as such. But now that she's here I'm so in love with having her with me, with being her mom and taking care of her that I'd never want to relinquish her to anyone else like that again.
The fact that I'm enjoying this new role as much as I am has been a pleasant surprise. Yes, of course I'm always tired. I was this tired when I worked that night job in Ottawa, though, and this is definitely a more rewarding variant of exhausted. She wakes me up to feed her with escalating growls and when I give her her bottle she is hungry and attacks it like a snapping turtle, her eyes wide. Then she settles into a happy feed, humming and sighing and staring into my eyes. I talk to her and sometimes she 'talks' as well, groaning and growling around her bottle which results in pretty much one of the most hilarious noises ever. She does this with her soother too, and I laugh every single time.
She is lauded for her every poop, fart and burp. Pooping is difficult for her so of course I get genuinely happy that she is more comfortable when she works out her issues, so to speak. Just because her accomplishments are basic and biological in nature doesn't mean she doesn't deserve praise, you know. Hooray for being so good at being a baby! Maybe I feel so enthusiastic about it since for so long she was holed up in an incubator, unable to do all these usual baby things because of the shitty hand she'd been dealt. Her pure baby-ness now is a wonderful thing.
I'm a frickin' mom. Essie has made me into a mom. It's not like I thought it might be which is a relief because frankly I had a dim view of what kind of a mother I'd end up being and what kind of kid I might have. BUT! I had Essie, who is pretty much wonderful and I genuinely like being with her. And so far I'm not sucking so much at the mom thing, most of which I credit entirely to hormones and instinct and the example set me by my own Mom, who taught me common sense.
So Essie; today, the day that I held in my mind for six months as a kind of finish line, a theoretical kind of thing like the idea of what's over that next hill we've never climbed before; today I want to celebrate you and how far you've come in this crazy old world. I'm so proud of how strong you were in the NICU, how you put up with all the discomfort and pain and fright. I'm proud that the nurses all recognized the toughness of you, the fight you put up to make the sliver of the world you were aware of as comfortable and controlled as you could even if it meant just shoving your CPAP or holding tightly on to your feeding tube. I'm proud that you surpassed their expectations of you and did things ahead of schedule as often as possible, even when it caught us unprepared. And I'm proud, proud, proud that you're MY daughter.
That's right; today is the day Essie was 'supposed' to be born. Or, the most likely day on which she could have been born. Of course things didn't exactly go to plan, but I was attached to this date for a number of reasons. It was my grandma Morrow's birthday, it's one of Andrew's wonderful cousins birthday, and it just has nice vibes what with all the partying and goodtimes on May 24 weekend.
But yeah ... not so much, huh? Instead of sitting here with a massive belly and feeling as supremely uncomfortable as a pregnant woman can feel (which you know I would be; I am very accomplished at feeling physically uncomfortable) I am sitting here typing on my laptop with a little warm baby sleeping cradled against my left shoulder. I've been a mom for almost three months now. Essie's been home with us for three weeks! What should have been a third trimester became a scary medical journey that I never want to repeat again.
But despite the rough start Essie's so great. So healthy and strong. She's growing and changing incredibly quickly, fattening up and getting more and more aware of us and her surroundings. I've said multiple times to multiple people that her prematurity had nothing to do with her, technically. Pre-eclampsia is about the mother's body malfunctioning, and Essie wasn't the problem physically. She was trying to grow and flourish in there and would have if I hadn't crossed my wires. So I believe very strongly that this is why she managed to grow and flourish like she did in the NICU. She wasn't sick, she didn't need any intervention; she was just early, evicted from her safe haven and forced to deal with a ton of obstacles as a result. In response she basically kicked the ass of all those obstacles and now here she is, a full-term-age baby with fat cheeks (both kinds), a great appetite, a friendly, resilient personality and all the love in the world at her fingertips.
Sometimes when she was in the NICU I felt like the day I got to be a 'real' mom would never come. The constraints of having a NICU baby are many and I've talked a lot about them before. Since she came home I've come to appreciate how that time allowed me to regain my strength and health while helping her develop hers and I'm thankful for it as such. But now that she's here I'm so in love with having her with me, with being her mom and taking care of her that I'd never want to relinquish her to anyone else like that again.
The fact that I'm enjoying this new role as much as I am has been a pleasant surprise. Yes, of course I'm always tired. I was this tired when I worked that night job in Ottawa, though, and this is definitely a more rewarding variant of exhausted. She wakes me up to feed her with escalating growls and when I give her her bottle she is hungry and attacks it like a snapping turtle, her eyes wide. Then she settles into a happy feed, humming and sighing and staring into my eyes. I talk to her and sometimes she 'talks' as well, groaning and growling around her bottle which results in pretty much one of the most hilarious noises ever. She does this with her soother too, and I laugh every single time.
She is lauded for her every poop, fart and burp. Pooping is difficult for her so of course I get genuinely happy that she is more comfortable when she works out her issues, so to speak. Just because her accomplishments are basic and biological in nature doesn't mean she doesn't deserve praise, you know. Hooray for being so good at being a baby! Maybe I feel so enthusiastic about it since for so long she was holed up in an incubator, unable to do all these usual baby things because of the shitty hand she'd been dealt. Her pure baby-ness now is a wonderful thing.
I'm a frickin' mom. Essie has made me into a mom. It's not like I thought it might be which is a relief because frankly I had a dim view of what kind of a mother I'd end up being and what kind of kid I might have. BUT! I had Essie, who is pretty much wonderful and I genuinely like being with her. And so far I'm not sucking so much at the mom thing, most of which I credit entirely to hormones and instinct and the example set me by my own Mom, who taught me common sense.
So Essie; today, the day that I held in my mind for six months as a kind of finish line, a theoretical kind of thing like the idea of what's over that next hill we've never climbed before; today I want to celebrate you and how far you've come in this crazy old world. I'm so proud of how strong you were in the NICU, how you put up with all the discomfort and pain and fright. I'm proud that the nurses all recognized the toughness of you, the fight you put up to make the sliver of the world you were aware of as comfortable and controlled as you could even if it meant just shoving your CPAP or holding tightly on to your feeding tube. I'm proud that you surpassed their expectations of you and did things ahead of schedule as often as possible, even when it caught us unprepared. And I'm proud, proud, proud that you're MY daughter.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
My first Mother's Day.
Mother's Day was pretty awesome. I kicked it off by getting up early and giving Essie a bath so she'd be fresh and clean for a day full of meeting people. Then I dressed her in the outfit I'd been saving for that day; one that her Grandma gave her. It's pink and brown with polka dots and a flower on the front of the onesie, and she rocked it with pink socks and her clean, fuzzy hair. I have a slight obsession with finding nice outfits in brown for her since it's not as usual, but they're hard to come by!
We stopped at TCAF so I could meet some of the people Andrew had met the day before, and specifically so I could pick up Meredith Gran's second and third published collections. I stuck Essie in the sling and she was snuggly and happy in there until we got to the webcomics section and I pulled her out on request. After she was out of the sling and in my arms she got a lot of attention and loving up from various artists and inspired Kate Beaton to create her comic about meeting her. It was a LOT of fun. This was Essie's first public appearance and she was totally cool about it. I got my first taste of the public appreciation for teeny babies, something that was kind of on my radar before but not something I've been on the receiving end of as a mom.
So after that we bombed off to Kingston as fast as we could, which was not fast at all due to insane traffic on the 401 and having to make a baby-feeding pitstop. It was also a parent-feeding pitstop since we desperately needed some lunch, so it was slow going. But eventually, eventually we arrived and LO, the Essie-loving did begin.
I gave her to her Grandma to hold first, of course, and I was thrilled to finally see my baby in my mom's arms. It had bothered me so much at the hospital that she couldn't hold her there, and if we'd spent longer at St. Mike's I had planned to pretty much just put Essie in her arms and fight with anyone who tried to stop me. What actually happened was a much nicer scenario, of course, so it all worked out in the end.
Then La and Mimi took turns holding her for the first time, and after that the cousins all got a turn throughout the rest of the visit. Essie was a superstar. She was calm and content the whole time. I mean, she did do her usual growling and groaning but it was all good-tempered and she was pretty alert for much of the afternoon, which surprised me. I think overall everyone thought she was a cute, yummy baby as evidenced by the threats to steal her and eat her cheeks off entirely.
In all the madness I didn't end up doing much reflecting on it being my first Mother's Day. Things were busy and hectic, but good. Which is fine by me.
We stopped at TCAF so I could meet some of the people Andrew had met the day before, and specifically so I could pick up Meredith Gran's second and third published collections. I stuck Essie in the sling and she was snuggly and happy in there until we got to the webcomics section and I pulled her out on request. After she was out of the sling and in my arms she got a lot of attention and loving up from various artists and inspired Kate Beaton to create her comic about meeting her. It was a LOT of fun. This was Essie's first public appearance and she was totally cool about it. I got my first taste of the public appreciation for teeny babies, something that was kind of on my radar before but not something I've been on the receiving end of as a mom.
So after that we bombed off to Kingston as fast as we could, which was not fast at all due to insane traffic on the 401 and having to make a baby-feeding pitstop. It was also a parent-feeding pitstop since we desperately needed some lunch, so it was slow going. But eventually, eventually we arrived and LO, the Essie-loving did begin.
I gave her to her Grandma to hold first, of course, and I was thrilled to finally see my baby in my mom's arms. It had bothered me so much at the hospital that she couldn't hold her there, and if we'd spent longer at St. Mike's I had planned to pretty much just put Essie in her arms and fight with anyone who tried to stop me. What actually happened was a much nicer scenario, of course, so it all worked out in the end.
Then La and Mimi took turns holding her for the first time, and after that the cousins all got a turn throughout the rest of the visit. Essie was a superstar. She was calm and content the whole time. I mean, she did do her usual growling and groaning but it was all good-tempered and she was pretty alert for much of the afternoon, which surprised me. I think overall everyone thought she was a cute, yummy baby as evidenced by the threats to steal her and eat her cheeks off entirely.
In all the madness I didn't end up doing much reflecting on it being my first Mother's Day. Things were busy and hectic, but good. Which is fine by me.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Monday, May 4, 2009
Monday, April 13, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
She's mighty mighty.
Shaughnessy shrieked at me in rage tonight! I was doing Kangaroo Care with her in the NICU and her legs seemed a little scrunched up in a possibly-could-get-uncomfortable way, so I tried to shift them so that she was more stretched out. The nurses like it better when their legs are extended because it gives their lungs more room to breathe, too.
So, I attempted to get her to straighten out her legs a bit and she squawked, then literally shrieked at me. Not a pain yell, but an anger yell. Her nurse, who was tending to another baby, hardly even glanced over, just laughed and said, "Heh, you're trying to move her, aren't you?" I finished what I was doing and tucked her back in against me, at which point she immediately settled down and got totally quiet and happy once again. It seems that when she's comfy she does NOT appreciate being relocated, and gives her nurses the same attitude. Trying to move her to her stomach from a different position always results in stiff, stick-straight legs stuck out in front of her and much bitching.
Apparently she is also trying to figure out how to escape her incubator. The nurses have been reporting to me that she's been discovered up against the back of her incubator, entirely out of her head hugger, and this morning she was wedged into a corner of it, happy as could be. They had no idea how long she'd been like that, but only discovered her when it was time to give her a feed.
The capper, though, is her CPAP. They tried her off of it permanently earlier this week since she was doing so well with an on/off cycle. She did great for the first 24 hours, but then had an episode where she choked a bit on some spit-up, after which they put her back on the CPAP as a preventative measure after the choking so she wouldn't tire out. As of today the CPAP was making her so angry that she spent three hours this morning fussing over it and fighting with it, so they made the decision to take her off of it permanently again rather than have her blow a gasket. Her nurse told me that as soon as they took it off her head she calmed right down and went to sleep.
I'm thinking that girlfriend doesn't realize she's a preemie, or just doesn't care. Apparently she has places to go and people to see and we're cramping her style in a big way. Since she's really doing so well and is what one nurse referred to tonight as a 'straightforward baby' in terms of care needs she'll be moving to the next level NICU fairly soon. That means moving to a different hospital since she's been so healthy and had so few things wrong with her. I'm VERY sad to think of her no longer being at Women's College Hospital, but I can deal. Whatever brings her home to us sooner is good.
There are still some hurdles for her to get past, like regulating her own temperature, learning to nurse as her sole means of food intake and being entirely independent of any breathing assistance. That last is basically no longer an issue unless she has a setback, so the other two just need a few more weeks of growing and learning. Since she is so obviously determined and strong I'm not too worried about her getting there in good time.
I don't know if you can tell, but I am incredibly proud of our baby girl. :)
So, I attempted to get her to straighten out her legs a bit and she squawked, then literally shrieked at me. Not a pain yell, but an anger yell. Her nurse, who was tending to another baby, hardly even glanced over, just laughed and said, "Heh, you're trying to move her, aren't you?" I finished what I was doing and tucked her back in against me, at which point she immediately settled down and got totally quiet and happy once again. It seems that when she's comfy she does NOT appreciate being relocated, and gives her nurses the same attitude. Trying to move her to her stomach from a different position always results in stiff, stick-straight legs stuck out in front of her and much bitching.
Apparently she is also trying to figure out how to escape her incubator. The nurses have been reporting to me that she's been discovered up against the back of her incubator, entirely out of her head hugger, and this morning she was wedged into a corner of it, happy as could be. They had no idea how long she'd been like that, but only discovered her when it was time to give her a feed.
The capper, though, is her CPAP. They tried her off of it permanently earlier this week since she was doing so well with an on/off cycle. She did great for the first 24 hours, but then had an episode where she choked a bit on some spit-up, after which they put her back on the CPAP as a preventative measure after the choking so she wouldn't tire out. As of today the CPAP was making her so angry that she spent three hours this morning fussing over it and fighting with it, so they made the decision to take her off of it permanently again rather than have her blow a gasket. Her nurse told me that as soon as they took it off her head she calmed right down and went to sleep.
I'm thinking that girlfriend doesn't realize she's a preemie, or just doesn't care. Apparently she has places to go and people to see and we're cramping her style in a big way. Since she's really doing so well and is what one nurse referred to tonight as a 'straightforward baby' in terms of care needs she'll be moving to the next level NICU fairly soon. That means moving to a different hospital since she's been so healthy and had so few things wrong with her. I'm VERY sad to think of her no longer being at Women's College Hospital, but I can deal. Whatever brings her home to us sooner is good.
There are still some hurdles for her to get past, like regulating her own temperature, learning to nurse as her sole means of food intake and being entirely independent of any breathing assistance. That last is basically no longer an issue unless she has a setback, so the other two just need a few more weeks of growing and learning. Since she is so obviously determined and strong I'm not too worried about her getting there in good time.
I don't know if you can tell, but I am incredibly proud of our baby girl. :)
Monday, March 23, 2009
Update-y goodness.
As soon as Andrew got well enough to finally get into the NICU to see Shaughnessy I got sick with whatever it was he'd had. At least we managed to pass off the baton, but still ... it sucks to not be seeing her together.
Andrew seeing her does make me extremely happy, of course. I hate to think of neither of us able to go in, so the fact that at least one of her parents can see her daily makes me feel a lot better. And Andrew made sure to get a great shot of himself holding her for the first time. See:
While he was there Shaughnessy's nurse was doing her hands-on care and had Andrew help out with it, but didn't make him change her diaper, hee hee. The diapers that they use are ridiculously small preemie diapers but they still come up to Shaughnessy's armpits if they're not folded down. When Andrew asked about that the nurse said they just fold them down so they don't look dumb, not for any practical reason. I think I'll start folding them down first when I change her, because I always end up giving her saggy-butt diapers and that's probably why.
Her IV burn is healing well, it seems, so I'm going to stop worrying about it. She's been doing really well with breathing off of the CPAP machine, too, so hopefully that means soon she'll be off of it for good! It hasn't bothered me so much with regards to her breathing because I know it wasn't hurting her and was necessary to keep her breathing and strengthening her lungs, but it'll be nice for her to not have to wear the gear on her head and face any more. It gets in the way of how cute she is, and always seemed uncomfortable on her face and cheeks. There are two different kinds they use; a mask and a two-pronged one that sits inside her nostrils. They both have their pluses, but I'll be glad to see them gone!
She's off the IV altogether because after the IV burn happened they didn't want to chance another interstitial vein and she was nearly at full feeds anyhow. Now she's at full feeds, is off the IV, is soon going to be off of the CPAP and hopefully I'll get to start nursing her within a month! I can hardly wait for that!
Andrew seeing her does make me extremely happy, of course. I hate to think of neither of us able to go in, so the fact that at least one of her parents can see her daily makes me feel a lot better. And Andrew made sure to get a great shot of himself holding her for the first time. See:
While he was there Shaughnessy's nurse was doing her hands-on care and had Andrew help out with it, but didn't make him change her diaper, hee hee. The diapers that they use are ridiculously small preemie diapers but they still come up to Shaughnessy's armpits if they're not folded down. When Andrew asked about that the nurse said they just fold them down so they don't look dumb, not for any practical reason. I think I'll start folding them down first when I change her, because I always end up giving her saggy-butt diapers and that's probably why.
Her IV burn is healing well, it seems, so I'm going to stop worrying about it. She's been doing really well with breathing off of the CPAP machine, too, so hopefully that means soon she'll be off of it for good! It hasn't bothered me so much with regards to her breathing because I know it wasn't hurting her and was necessary to keep her breathing and strengthening her lungs, but it'll be nice for her to not have to wear the gear on her head and face any more. It gets in the way of how cute she is, and always seemed uncomfortable on her face and cheeks. There are two different kinds they use; a mask and a two-pronged one that sits inside her nostrils. They both have their pluses, but I'll be glad to see them gone!
She's off the IV altogether because after the IV burn happened they didn't want to chance another interstitial vein and she was nearly at full feeds anyhow. Now she's at full feeds, is off the IV, is soon going to be off of the CPAP and hopefully I'll get to start nursing her within a month! I can hardly wait for that!
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