1. Carina wakes up at 5 am. Great. We all wake up.
2. 5:30 am all settled down again and I have a sudden sore throat & think I will die if I don’t deal with the situation. Get up, take cough syrup.
3. Lay there until 6.
4. Got showered & dressed without incident.
5. Made my lunch & Carina’s. She sits in the highchair supervising and picking at her Cheerios, while drinking her milk.
6. Decided to wear new brown loafers that I am much enamored with. Put right foot in and am delighted with fit of the shoe and the way the shoe goes perfectly with my outfit. Cannot. Jam. Left foot. Into. Shoe. Agghhh! Look carefully at “left” shoe. Is right shoe. They both are. Also, real right shoe is size 8.5, which is nice. The wrong shoe is entirely wrong and is size 10. Kohls. WTF?
7. Resort to plan B – older shoes.
8. Report to bathroom to dry hair. Cannot find wide-toothed comb that I use every day of my life. Is not in bathroom. Begin search of Carina’s hiding spots – under sofas, under beds, in corners of the room, near her highchair. No luck. Hair begins drying wildly around head as I run around the house.
9. Rob is mad. He is stuck trying to get ready while Carina roams the bedroom in search of forbidden items, while I hunt. She attacks my jewelry box and he defends it.
10. Give up on the comb, use fingers and travel-sized brush to sort out hair that is still weird, but more acceptable. Put Carina’s hair into ponytail.
11. Go to kitchen. Put slice of bread on counter. Microwave egg for egg sandwich I eat for breakfast every day (lunches are already packed & made). Turn around. Bread is gone. Search for comb & bread. Call dog, cursing him, as he stole the bread two weeks ago. No dog. Dog is still outside. Hear Rob saying in the bathroom, “Did Mommy give you that big piece of bread?” Walk into bathroom. There is Carina eating a large slice of whole wheat bread.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Saturday, January 2, 2010
The hostage
Our 17 month old daughter has fought sleep tooth and nail since she was born. Most babies barely move their heads, but she was swiveling her head in the hospital looking at everything - she always seems concerned that she might miss something. She is very tall for her age and approaches life with the fierce dedication of a professional athlete. When she was learning to walk, she did not take each day as it came - she stood against the picture window holding onto the window crank handle and literally did squats until she had the muscle and coordination to stand upright. She would do this for as long as we would let her and would squeal when we tried to re-direct her to something else.
So, quickly she learned to walk. She rarely slept through the night, but luckily at least grew cheerier and was crying less. Finally at nearly 17 months she did start sleeping through the night - or so we thought. We heard a banging at the door the night before New Year's Eve and swiftly learned that she whose nose did not yet reach the top rail of the crib had enough upper body strength to haul her body to the top rail, then fall onto her feet on the floor. I assume I mistook the quiet of sleep for her doing pullups on the bed. We figured out her escape routine, because after we put her back into her crib, we observed the whole thing on the baby monitor. The next day, we converted her bed to a daybed, so that she wouldn't hurt herself hurtling out of bed.
Now, when we put her to bed and shut the door, she stands there banging on the door crying. Put her back into bed and she's out and banging. So, we have to let her bang and yell. Despite the fact that we are parents and should be mature and ready for this, I still feel awkward about imprisoning someone in my home.
So, quickly she learned to walk. She rarely slept through the night, but luckily at least grew cheerier and was crying less. Finally at nearly 17 months she did start sleeping through the night - or so we thought. We heard a banging at the door the night before New Year's Eve and swiftly learned that she whose nose did not yet reach the top rail of the crib had enough upper body strength to haul her body to the top rail, then fall onto her feet on the floor. I assume I mistook the quiet of sleep for her doing pullups on the bed. We figured out her escape routine, because after we put her back into her crib, we observed the whole thing on the baby monitor. The next day, we converted her bed to a daybed, so that she wouldn't hurt herself hurtling out of bed.
Now, when we put her to bed and shut the door, she stands there banging on the door crying. Put her back into bed and she's out and banging. So, we have to let her bang and yell. Despite the fact that we are parents and should be mature and ready for this, I still feel awkward about imprisoning someone in my home.
Thoughts for 2010
I had enough time to read the Star Ledger today, which is rare & I love to do. I liked Dear Abby's reminder about New Year's resolutions.
In particular the first bit about living in the moment and not worrying about the future as much. For me, this applies to writing, which seems insurmountable in that I am concerned about how to direct my writing and what I should really be doing with it.
Plus, being healthy - not throwing the baby out with the bathwater and taking each day as a new opportunity to do the right thing.
The right thing for me right now is bed, though. This horrible cold is lingering and me not sleeping enough is not helping.
In particular the first bit about living in the moment and not worrying about the future as much. For me, this applies to writing, which seems insurmountable in that I am concerned about how to direct my writing and what I should really be doing with it.
Plus, being healthy - not throwing the baby out with the bathwater and taking each day as a new opportunity to do the right thing.
The right thing for me right now is bed, though. This horrible cold is lingering and me not sleeping enough is not helping.
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