Baby’s first words

Thanks to all for your suggestions on getting Little Man to sleep better. I did something slightly different on Friday. He gets rice cereal at breakfast and baby food at lunch. I used to do cereal and baby food at night, but this time I did two jars of baby food–no cereal. It seemed to cut back on the gas pains. He did a 5 hour stretch for me before waking up.

This was a weekend for milestones. He rolled over from his stomach to his back and said his first words. Of course, it was, “Da-da.” I swear, this is the universe’s way of laughing at mothers everywhere. We stay up with our babies, nurse them, cuddle them, change them. And what words come first? Da-da. What is up with that? Not Mama or Mum-mum. Nope–it’s all about Dad. Yesterday, he was muttering Da-da-da to himself, grinning away.

Yeah, pal. Just wait until Da-da is the one to stay up with you.

Hey, maybe that’s the solution to my sleep deprivation. Wean the baby, go on vacation alone, and leave the kids with Dad.

Despite everything, I’ve managed to get my act together in regard to book revisions. I nearly finished them last night. Tonight I hope to revise the epilogue and then maybe Tuesday do a final read-through. After that, I’m hoping to get started on something new!

Huggies Commercial

Okay, this is just too funny not to share.

I think it’s taking baby fashion a little too far…

Parent-Teacher Conferences

Today I have a conference with my son’s preschool teacher. I don’t anticipate anything major, but it’ll be interesting to see how he is in relation to the other kids. I’m betting that she’ll say he doesn’t participate in music/movement. In other words, the boy can’t dance. :dancingfool:

Gee, guess where he inherited that one? I love to dance, but I’ll freely admit I’m not good at it. So it’s no surprise that my boy can’t quite get his groove on. Besides, how easy is it to dance to the Wiggles or Sesame Street? Yeah, not so much. He does better with Technotronic. :dance:

She’ll probably also say that he needs practice with scissors. I’m not touching that one. I know that when I was his age, I cut most of my brother’s hair off because I was “practicing” with scissors. I have no intention of giving him ideas. He uses scissors at preschool, and as far as I’m concerned, that’ll do fine.

Now my daughter’s conference on Monday will be another story. When my son was her age, he knew his colors, shapes, and alphabet. My daughter can count to twenty and sing the ABC’s, but everything is purple. I’ve never heard her recite a shape either. I’m not too stressed about it because I know kids catch up at their own rate. Still, I have a feeling her little report card won’t be too good. Yes, teachers are neurotic about such things.

On the writing front, I’m still waiting. I will confess that I am GREEN with envy :worthy:for the people who get The Call after three weeks. Or even three months! I alternate between phases of elation–no news must mean good news!–and periods of –Oh-geez-why-don’t-they-just-reject-me-and-get-it-over-with. I think my current song must be Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive.” (words slightly modified) Feel free to sing along.

At first I was afraid, I was so forlorn
Kept thinkin’ my book would come back with a rejection form
And now I’ve spent so many nights
Thinkin’ what is going on?
Is my book stuck upon a desk
Or is it absolutely gone?
Don’t send it back!
Don’t want it here!
Come on now call me now, my phone is pressed
Right up to my ear.
I want to hear the editor’s voice
Saying that she wants my book,
Or else I’ll crumble…
Yes, I’ll lay down and die,
I won’t survive!

Naked Girl

The toilet training has commenced. :woot: I started this past weekend, very gradually, and I am proud to say that my darling daughter has learned to pee on command. Man, what a moment. :rotfl: The things we mothers love. Now there are, of course, times when she chooses to baptize her underwear rather than the toilet, but hey, it’s a start. She seems to like the power trip.

She has also mastered another skill, one which horrified my husband. I was out chaperoning the band concert at the time. My husband informed the children that they could watch the Charlie Brown Christmas special and gathered them in the living room. He remarked that he was going to use the bathroom and when he returned, he found my daughter naked in the hallway. Apparently she decided that she wanted to go, too, and managed to strip herself. Which, I’ll admit, is pretty impressive for a 19-month-old, considering it was a zip-up pajama set with footies. She even removed the diaper. When he asked if she needed to go, she bobbed her head in agreement furiously. Did she go? Nope. But by golly, she learned how to take her clothes off. :shimmy:

Now stripping isn’t, of itself, a bad thing. It leads to them being able to dress themselves and be more independent. The problem is that my children like to PRACTICE. You turn your back and WHAMMO! Naked children. We used to tuck our son into bed at night and whisper as we kissed him, “Keep your clothes on.”

Guess there’s someone else in the household who will need that little reminder. :dance: Just as long as she doesn’t see it as a future career, I think we’re okay.

A quick funny

I was busy answering e-mail while the kidlets were playing upstairs. Every now and again I’d hear a piercing scream, followed by, “Don’t take my toy!” but when no blood was involved, I didn’t worry.

Then suddenly, I realized it had been silent. Any mother who has toddlers knows that silence is more deadly than screams and bloodshed. Because they’re UP TO SOMETHING.

I ran from the office and noticed that both bedroom doors were closed. Bad. This is very bad.

I open my son’s bedroom door. Nothing. He’s not there.

I hear the sound of giggles coming from my daughter’s room. I throw open her door and find my son wearing a blanket on his head like an Arabian sheikh, my daughter holding a similar blanket.

Him: “Hi, Mom! We’re just playing with ourselves.”

Oh, Lord. :rotfl:

Water Phobia

My son has a strange water phobia. He hates having water squirted at him, poured over him, or sprinkled on him in any way. I tried to give him a shower instead of a bath once, and he screamed and cried through the entire ordeal. Today was water play day at daycare, and as soon as he saw the bathing suit I had laid out for him, he started whining, “I don’t want to go to water play.” I assured him that he didn’t have to go in the sprinklers and it was okay to just wear the bathing suit to school. He eyed me with the suspicion of a boy who’s accustomed to his mother sneaking vegetables into his food.

He’s also terrified of swimming. Last year I enrolled him in a Mom and Baby swimming class. He sobbed his way through the first three classes, arms locked around my neck in a death-grip. By lesson #4, he started to relax, and during the last two lessons, he eagerly enjoyed them. I want to enroll him in swimming again, just to help him lose the fear of water. And yet, I have a feeling that there is no way he’ll go for it. :hissyfit:

Do your children have any fears? How have you helped them overcome those?

P.S.–in another funny moment, a stranger complimented him on his Superman cape and shirt, saying, “I like your shirt.”
My son: “Yes, I’m sure you do.” :confused2:

The Milestones of Childhood

According to Parents Magazine, there are certain “overlooked” milestones of childhood. These include blowing raspberries, learning to play peekaboo, babbling, and so on.

I contend that there are other milestones that will never make it into a parenting magazine. These are my top four milestones, from my darling babies.

4: The day my son learned to remove all of his clothing. At night, I’d tuck him in and when I went to check on him, every stitch of his clothes (including his diaper) were off. We termed this the Naked Boy stage. (It later led to the toilet training phase.)

3. The day my kids understood the glory of chocolate. The noises emitted from their toddler mouths was nothing short of hosannas and praise. The pictures were pretty funny, too. :dance:

2. My daughter learned at the tender age of six months that spontaneously crying (when we were out of the room), pointing to her brother, and behaving as though she had just been the victim of violence earned her extra hugs and kisses…and got her innocent brother into major trouble. :ick:

1. The day my boy let out an enormous toot, raised his hands in the air, and yelled, “TOUCHDOWN!”

What was one of your favorite milestones?

Swimming Head First

About two summers ago, we took our son to the beach. The house where we stayed for a family reunion had a swimming pool as well, and the kids enjoyed getting into the water daily. My son had other ideas.

Why on earth anyone would want to get inside this freezing wet stuff was completely beyond him. At sixteen months old, he was perfectly content to splash water inside a bucket…on dry ground.

Then we found a compromise that suited everyone. My sister-in-law had a giant inflatable chair. My husband and I could enjoy the pool, holding onto the chair where my son could glide on the surface of the water like a king commanding his servants. To make it even safer, I had dressed him in a full body bathing suit equipped with floatation devices completely around his chest.

My husband affectionately nicknamed him “Baby Jihad.” The kid looked like a suicide bomber, ready to go off at any moment. But he allowed us to take him around the pool. Then, as fate would have it, he decided he’d had enough. Before I could grab him, he hurled himself off the opposite side of the chair. I learned that instead of keeping him upright like a bobbing cork, the Baby Jihad set-up tended to spin. His face would go in the water, then he’d spin upright, then down again. I rescued him in approximately three seconds, so there was no harm done, really, but he chose to blame my husband for the entire ordeal (even though my hubby was at the opposite end of the pool). Our son shot him nasty looks for the remainder of the trip, as though the entire thing were my husband’s fault.

This year, it’s my daughter’s turn to wear the outfit when we visit relatives over the Fourth of July. Her personality is vastly different from my son’s. Instead of being finicky about the water, I anticipate her fourteen-month-old self will do cannonballs into the pool. The child has no fear.

At what age did your kids learn to swim?

P.S.–5 pages last night. Since I’m back to work this week, I’m pretty pleased with that.

The Toy Relocation Program

What is it with toddlers and their possessions? They pick up a toy and carry it with them religiously around the house. Balls, coloring book pages, legos, blocks, magnetic letters, stuffed animals….and inevitably, they end up placing their toys in every freaking room in the house!! :banghead:

Can you tell, I’m a wee bit stressed about getting the house cleaned? :hissyfit: It’s a never-ending process. I pick up one room, go onto another, and while I’m cleaning, the kids relocate more toys to the once-clean room. It’s like an exodus of toys–moving them from one room into the next. :crazyjumping:

I personally think it’s a mark of ownership, like dogs peeing on a tree. The toddler claims every room as his territory by staking out toys and playthings there.

Thought I’d share this, for all you moms. You can probably relate.

The Toddler’s Creed: :blahblah:

If I want it, it is mine.
If I give it to you and change my mind later, it is mine.
If I can take it away from you, it is mine.
If it is mine, it will never belong to anyone else, no matter what.
If we are building something together, all the pieces are mine.
If it looks just like mine, it is mine.
(source unknown)

The quest for a new babysitter

My American Title entry is in the mail. :hello2: All right! It’s so nice to have a new opportunity in the hands of the U.S. Postal Service. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

Still no word from the agent. I’m not worrying about it. I’ll let you know when and if she calls back. It reminds me of that book–He’s Just Not That Into You. Only in this case, it’s a different gender. I need to find someone who is excited and enthusiastic about my writing, because that will translate into the right fit for me and for my work. There is always the possibility that she was hit by a bus, but more likely it’s the case above.

In the meantime, last night I ventured into terrifying new territory. The babysitter I normally use for my children is going to be a senior next year, off to college, and I will lose her then. :help: So I decided, since she was unavailable, to try someone else. :confused2: Scary!

It’s funny how all the baby books talk about how to find an appropriate caregiver, how to make sure they have no criminal record, etc. etc. and then when push comes to shove, parents will take a 13-year-old they don’t even know and leave their two precious babies alone with her. You really do get that desperate for a night out alone.

Fortunately for me, I’m a middle school teacher, and I do know most of the neighborhood kids. I know which ones are conscientious and will actually change a diaper, and which ones could not be trusted to feed a cat. If they turned in their homework on time, they’re in. Thankfully my three-year-old is old enough to start telling me what’s going on. Of course, he also tells me, “A bug ate Kenny at school today!” so you have to take his dialogue with a grain of salt.