Pregnancy and Motherhood Archive

Before the whole ER and 911 fiasco Sophia had a pretty regular bedtime and wake time. She was doing well with naps and typically only woke up once during the night. That’s all gone to shit now. I’m not actually sure if it’s the hospital visits that did it or if it’s the teething. It could be the combo. Anyway since Kurt’s been home this whole week he has told be a number of times to go to bed earlier since I wasn’t getting much sleep since Sophia had got into the new habit of waking twice during the night and remaining awake precisely at the butt-crack of pre-dawn (5:30 am), which has forced me to take a nap sometime during the day.

Last night, knowing that I would be getting up to drive Kurt to work (no use disrupting a disrupted sleep schedule to visit daddy in jail for a DUI since he’s still taking painkillers) I went to bed at nine. The darling angel had gone to bed at 6 since she was dead set against a late afternoon nap. She woke up at 11:30, then again at 2:30, and a third time at three in which she decided it was morning time. I of course stayed up - I have no choice. I rocked her, nursed her, then finally I just placed her in the spare bed and laid down beside her. I think she went back to sleep around four. I put pillows around her and went back to my own bed. At 4:50 the cat thought it would be a good idea to tell us it was almost time to get up - he was gingerly placed in the garage by yours truly. 5:30 Kurt’s alarm went off and at 6:20-ish I got to wake the baby so that we could drive Kurt to work.

We are a grumpy bunch. Kurt went to warm up the car and I followed him putting his lunch in the car so he didn’t forget. “Now the light won’t go out,” he complained. “What light?”

“The light, the light,” he says pointing to the light that comes on when we open the car door. I reached in and flipped the switch from the middle setting to the “off” position and it went off. I put it back to the middle and it was back on since I had a door open. I slammed the door and the light magically went off. It was a little like the time a few years ago when he complained that I had too many red sweaters on the drying rack I use for things I don’t want damaged in the drier. Well, my red sweaters took all the space on the rack and there was no room to hang his motorcycle T-shirts. I told him to stop buying so many red sweaters for me.

There was another incident at Christmas time when his mom wanted to go to the mall to exchange the sweater I get her for the next size up. We arrived and Kurt announced that we only had fifteen minutes to spend there because he had to go pay a bill before the office closed for the day. His niece and sister wanted to shop around a bit so I suggested Kurt just leave us all at the mall while he runs his errand. “What? Do you want to spend all day here?” Umm no. He was insistent that there was only one way to do things, his way, the way that was stuck in his mighty melon head. We must all stay together and therefore we can only spend fifteen minutes in the mall. Ugg! I finally convinced him that he could go run his errand and meet us at the food court in an hour.

More recently I’ve been driving Miss Daisy eerr Mr. Kurt around and he insists I must take the route he would drive. I admit his routes are probably shorter and *maybe* faster (one can never tell in this area), but I’m the one driving and I do know where I’m going! So shut the hell up already!

Hhhhmm I think I got off on a bit of a tangent. I need a nap.

I started getting baby giggles when I attempted “singing” patty-cake. She still laughs at patty-cake, but we put a little twist in it now. More on that later.

Other things that make Sophia laugh:

• Holding her upside down
• Rubbing her feet together
• Turning my head away then bugging my eyes out (opening my eyes up as much as possible) while moving my face quickly towards hers. It’s creepy looking to most people, but she’s my daughter. She thinks it’s hilarious.
• Poking her in the belly
• Blowing a burst of air in her face - just enough to make her hair stand up even more
• Rubbing a washcloth on the bottom of her foot

Our neighbor taught us a slightly twisted version of patty-cake that Kurt and I took to immediately. We’ve had to modify it further since our child doesn’t like to cooperate when it comes to letting us move her arms for her, so we do patty-cake with her feet. Our neighbor takes care of a set of twins that are about two years old. Their mother was going through a divorce while she was pregnant and she has three other children, so our neighbors took in the twins as their “grandkids” to help out. Their version of patty-cake goes like this:

Patty-cake, Patty-cake baker’s man,
Bake me a cake as fast as you can; *Hit your self in the head (smack child in the head with her own hand or in our case foot)*
roll it, pat it *Hit yourself some more* mark it with a B,
Put it in the oven for baby and me.

Sophia finds this absolutely hysterical and giggles every time. We really need to buy a video camera and record this - mostly as evidence that she really does like it so you don’t call CPS on us.

I’ve been meaning to write this post about what makes Sophia giggle for quite some time, but due to unforeseen events I’ve put it off. I’m glad I did too, because I wouldn’t have had the chance to blog about what Kurt did today to make the doodlebug giggle. Since Kurt came home from the hospital (February 7th) I’ve had to do all the driving because of the prescription painkillers he’s on which means that Kurt now sits in the back seat with the baby (because of the car seat we have the front passenger seat is pretty much unusable while baby is rear-facing). Today I left the two of them in the car alone (I know I’m so irresponsible) while I went into the post office to check the mail. Upon my return I see a very animated Kurtie speaking into the car seat (Sophia is still a little too short to see). I open my door and hear him speaking to her in gibberish with the accent of the Swedish Chef. “Yorn desh born, der ritt de gitt der gue, Orn desh, dee born desh, de umn børk! børk! børk!” At the “Børk! børk! børk!” it’s like he pushed the giggle button. Then witty Kurt said, “And if we ate at Kentucky Fried Chicken it would be, Spork spork spork!” Again, mass giggles from doodlebug. Kurt continued with, “And daddy is a Dork dork dork!” Sophia and I agreed. She giggled even more. The freaky thing is, Kurt is like this even without the drugs.

On Saturday (February 2nd) we gave Sophia a taste of her first doctor and mommy approved solid food.

Tuesday (February 5th), Sophia learned to roll from her back to her side.

Wednesday (February 6th), she began pulling at her ears. I didn’t know what that could mean until a friend of mine suggested that it could be teething. The facilitator at our “living with baby” class confirmed that by saying about pressure building in the ears when their teeth come out and that it’s worse when they lay down. Well, last week it was sort of hard to tell if she would have trouble sleeping since I kept waking her up to go to the hospital. Last night she woke up at midnight to eat, but she didn’t fall back to sleep right away like she usually does at night. This morning she woke up at six am - about an hour and a half before her usual on time schedule. Her ears were red. She had scratches on the side of her face leading into her ears and blood inside her ears. Poor baby. For her morning nap I gave her Baby Orajel. Oh what a beautiful product. Sleep! She slept for two and a half hours. Hint for other parents of teething babies - don’t get the “nighttime” formula. The ingredient list is the same, the product amount is less, and the price is higher - talk about marketing.

We just got back from our “living with baby” class. Since Valentines Day is coming up the facilitator had some red paint to sponge onto the babies hands to make a hand print card for us mommies. Sophia, taking after mom, refused to cooperate and made a fist. She also started screaming when I went to wash her hand off. *sigh* Yep, she’s mine. Kurtie came with us for the class, which was nice. Sitting on the floor for an hour may have been a little hard, but I think it was good for him to get out and walk a bit (it’s a good little walk going from the parking garage to the class).

The inside of the card read,

Here’s my little handprint
Just so you can recall
Exactly how my fingers looked
When I was Very small!

It comes with hugs and kisses
On my first Valentine’s Day
So I can say I LOVE YOU
In a very special way!

I love you, Mommy!

Sophia is back to hating bath time again. Last night’s bath she didn’t like at all.  The following pictures were taken last week. Last week’s bath she was ok with. She didn’t even mind the hairdo I gave her.

It was when we brushed it the right way that she became upset…

“I don’t want my hair to look like daddy’s!” I guess she likes to look like Baby Don King.

Sophia’s four-month birthday was on Friday (hence the Baby Squeezins: Diaper of the Month post). At four months, this kid has great control of her head now. She can lift it up to look around weather she’s on her back or stomach, but she absolutely refuses to use her arms while on her tummy to do the half push up (oh I hope she’s not going to be like her dad - more on this at the end of this post). If I hold her hands she can repeatedly push herself from a sitting to standing position and she can also stand for longer periods of time while just holding our fingers. A couple weeks ago I bought her the new set of rattles and within the last week she has figured out that if she can’t reach them with her hands she can use her feet to bring it up to her hands. On Monday I had her propped up with the Boppy pillow and a blanket behind her in such a way that she was sitting up straight. I’ve only seen her do this once, but she actually leaned forward to the point of bending herself in half to reach for a rattle and then she actually pushed herself back to the sitting position. She still has to be propped up to sit, but never the less I was impressed that she got herself back into that position.

Tuesday Sophia had her four-month check-up. She is thirteen pounds, thirteen ounces, and twenty-five inches tall/long. Poor baby received two shots in each leg plus one oral vaccine. Her tiny little left leg now has two welts. The shots on the right leg didn’t swell up like the left. The doctor said we can start her on solid food anytime. He said to start with a very thin consistency cereal first, specifically rice because it’s the one thing that doesn’t cause any kind of bad reactions. She has really been eyeballing our food for the last couple of weeks, so we’ll give sold foods a shot this weekend if I can make it to the store. The doctor said to stick to baby cereals for a while then alternate with fruits and vegetables. Try each new thing for a week before adding another new item, and no eggs or meats for a while.

On Tuesday I pulled out her doorway bouncy jump toy thing. As you can tell I have no idea what to call it, but I knew little Miss Kicks-a-lot would love it.

She doesn’t like the “stationary entertainer” *eye roll* that I pulled out of the garage on Wednesday very much, but she’ll tolerate the not-a-walker for a while. She figured out how to make the yellow squeaky (by her left arm in the picture) work and she was very pleased with herself. She hit it about three times before getting board and moving on to something else.

Sophia has been able to spin herself around in the crib since she was about two months old. More recently she learned to push herself away from the edge of her bassinet/playpen/crib with her legs while she is on her back. I’ve been placing her on her tummy after diaper changes to put her pants on and while I walk away to wash my hands for the past few weeks. On Wednesday I put her on her tummy to put on her pants as usual and she spit up. I rotated her in a way that her face wouldn’t be in the spit-up if she put her head back down, but I still positioned in a way that she can watch her crib mobile while I went to wash my hands. While I was gone I heard much fussing and screaming emitting from her general direction. After finishing I went back to see that she had her legs under her body in a crawling stance and her arms spread out flat on her mattress with her head down and up against the side of the crib. She had basically done a lower body half crawl with her face sliding through her spit-up. Her hair on that side was all wet - eeeww! Apparently when her father was a toddler he had an aversion to using his arms as well. His family lovingly dubbed baby Kurtie “Unicorn boy” because when he would trip or otherwise begin to fall he NEVER put his arms out to prevent his head from hitting the floor. The child had a permanent bruise in the middle of his forehead.

Not only would I love to actually meet my favorite performer but I also wish I were related to him. I don’t want him as a dad for a couple reasons. 1) I love the dad I have and you technically only get one of those. I know someone with four moms but she’s a little odd. 2) I have never seen an interview with his daughter so I don’t know if she turned out ok.

I think he’d be cool as an uncle or great-uncle. Because my paternal grandma would have been a little young (physically possible, but a little young) to give birth to George he would have to be my great-uncle and he would have been raised Mormon instead of Catholic. If he were a part of the maternal side of my family he could be my uncle but then his name would probably be Jorge. Why do I want to be related to him? I think it would have added a fun completely different intellectual car crash type dynamic to our family gatherings. *evil grin*

I’ve seen him perform in Vegas, but never actually had an opportunity to meet him. In a way I’m glad I haven’t because I’m afraid I’d probably say something stupid. I mean what do you say to someone you absolutely idolize? I think he’s awesome. He is without a doubt my favorite comedian, Mr. George Carlin.

On Friday, I did more calling and checking into daycares without any further luck. I’ve only had three private home daycare interviews and one at a large daycare facility. The first private home daycare wasn’t even close to my standards. The second one was very clean and nice. The layout was good and plenty of toys for the various ages she cared for, but I didn’t like the person that ran it. It seemed like she took great care of the children but I didn’t like her personality much. She knows everyone in the city and is quite the gossiper.

She had asked me who our pediatrician was and because this seems relevant to her caring for my child, I answered. Well she doesn’t like him or any of his staff. She says none of them are any good if a child has a rare problem. Well duh! They’re FAMILY doctors. That means they know a little bit of everything and if you need a specialist they refer you to one. She also went on about how she’s an expert at diagnosing children before the pediatrician can. She said she was especially good as diagnosing personality problems like ADD and asperger’s syndrome. *eye roll* I understand that as a caregiver she would be observing my child more than say a doctor but in my opinion her limit should be telling me about odd symptoms/behaviors. Because uumm she ain’t a doctor and I don’t want her trying to diagnose my child.

Ms. Gossip Queen asked me if I had visited any other daycares and I told her another provider had referred me to her. She started to talk bad about that person and then stopped herself saying, “oh but she’s my friend I shouldn’t say that about her”. No shit you shouldn’t, especially since your “friend” is the one that referred me. How does this woman get any business if she talks bad about everyone? She asked me what I had thought of the other provider’s place. I told her the lady seemed very nice but I felt the space was small with an awkward layout. I didn’t mention that it also appeared dirty to me, or the fact that there was a child against the wall that seemed to be ignored.

Kurt says the aspects of her personality that I didn’t like doesn’t matter since Sophia will only be there for three months until the large daycare facility calls us around June. I agree with him about that, but the other thing that turned me off about this second place was that there was no separate area for the infants and she cares for children up to twelve years of age. She kept saying how “her girls” (other children in her care), ages nine and twelve would love Sophia. I know I originally wanted the “family” environment but these girls weren’t there for me to meet at the time, so I don’t know them at all. The fact is they aren’t family and I’m not paying children to play with my daughter as if she’s a doll! I’m paying an adult to care for my real life human baby. If I wanted a child to care for my infant, I would personally interview teenagers. That place is simply out of the question.

The third private home daycare was good. I really liked the lady that ran it. She had just moved to a new location and her daycare setup wasn’t complete so it was difficult to evaluate that properly. Unfortunately, she also seemed to want to keep her options open and didn’t want to save an infant spot for me since I don’t need a daycare until March.

I called another large daycare facility that has two different sites that are close enough for me to deal with for the three months that we would need them. I called the closest one first of course. The lady said, “Oh we won’t have an opening for a couple months.” I was excited, “So you’ll have something in March?” “No,” she says, “we won’t have anything until July.” That’s six months not a couple months you stupid bitch! I didn’t say that of course but I was quite frustrated. I called their other site. Nothing until August - I just can’t win. They have another site that will be opening nearby in “the spring of 2008”. I called their main office to find out what month of “spring 2008” they mean. I had to leave a message and haven’t heard back from them yet. *GGRRrrr*