Talking, teething and temper tantrums

Talking, teething and temper tantrums.

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Talking, teething and temper tantrums

ImageWell, she is talking now. Sort of. And she will not stop. She talks as if she really has things to say and it is partly funny and partly confuddling. I enjoy seeing her attempting to copy the conversations and I listen closely to the intonations of speech that mark per-linguistic perception. Her vocabulary is spectacular, I can already tell!

She is also teething which is always a pleasure, or so I hear. She is great during the day but at night, one or two hours before bedtime she Mr. Hydes it on me and begins to be a very whiny and irritable child. It feels like I am suddenly just not good enough or fast enough or smart enough. She looks at me with some undisguised anger and frustration. Her expressions portray limitless patience run dry and unbeguiled disappointment. There is nothing quite more disquieting than when you feel your baby looking at you and clearly thinking “You just don’t get it- do ya?”

So I write today from the corner of my couch as my husband and father of my baby plays a video game and she is sound asleep. I also spoke to a few people today at my church who not only openly admitted that they read my blogs but that they like them! I am amazed that my candid thoughts in blog form can be enjoyed and I am flattered. I enjoy knowing that others are reading and sympathizing/agreeing/disagreeing/raging/crying/scoffing/mocking/sharing my blog. There is no better feeling than knowing I am being related to through my experiences as a first time mom. I am tempted to give my blog address to new moms in the street but I live in constant fear of being the next blog-ovah witness.

Back to my blog. In trying to make this entry really exciting, I will rhyme everything:

My baby is now 8 months old and a week, she yammers on as if she can speak

She is teething and seething at bedtime nightly, crying, contorting her face- unsightly

She is stubborn, strong as well as strong-willed, take her toy and oh if only looks killed

My baby is loud and proud and vocal too, as I look helplessly around- what should I do?

My embarrassment at her screeching is inevitable at best,yet I am sure she is just like the rest

New moms often seek to find if their babies are normal, may it be through inquiries both direct or informal

But only reassurance and confirmation is what I seek, even though I know my baby is unique

I am a blank slate in the parenting foray, which is why I ask, beg, plead and pray

That I don’t accidentally miss a step or stage and suddenly mess her up for an entire age

It seems there is one question that is constantly on mind…

        When oh when, is it a good time...

…to start the sippy cup…to buy her a pup…to stop bottles in bed…to give her some bread…to start daycare…to cut her hair…to change the car seat…to put shoes on her feet…to push her to crawl…to let her just sprawl…to potty train…to teach her to deal with pain…to teach the ABC’s…to teach the 123’s…to linguistically diversify…to teach colours and how to classify…to let her cry it out…to let her figure it out

It seems that as a mom I worry about each and every step, stage and milestone,

But I know she will figure everything out on a timeline that is all her own,

So I stand aside and in awe observe, as she lives life with carefree diligence and endless verve,

I am amazed at how excited she is to begin each day, deep inside I wish she would stay this way

I know because I was a cranky teen, that soon things will change from the way they have been,

But until she turns 10 and starts to refuse my kiss, not a moment, a heart-beat or chance I will miss

This may be my first time around the motherhood block, but I know that I’m in a race against the clock,

I have been told over and over again, that time really flies and that it is almost insane,

I believe and I see it for she is 8 months and a week, and she yammers on as if she can speak!

Take Care,

Smartignani

Mother and wife

B.A. Psychology and B.Ed

This is will be short.

I hate teething.

That’s it.

Take care.

Smartignani

So much to do… so I just won’t do anything at all.

I am trying to fit everything in. It seems like the days are so long yet so short. The hours drag when the baby is crying and almost fly by when she’s asleep. The hubby and I are starting to fall asleep much earlier than our pre-parenting, blissful days. I can’t believe that my body clock has adjusted itself to waking up at 7:55 am. And now that I am waking up at that ungodly hour, my baby has decided to sleep in longer. So I am standing crib side while she’s snoozing in dreamland. What’s up with that?

Night time routines are followed religiously and no one can break them- not even natural disasters. I can see it now- “Oh look honey, there’s a tornado outside!” – “Well let’s hope it comes and goes before 8:00 pm because we need to put her to bed!”

There is infinite wisdom in the need for routines. I truly believe that parents need them too. They are a comforting sign that soon the baby will sleep and we can finally do adult things- like eating popcorn, watching movies and of course, engage in some real, deep, interactive, awesome CONVERSATION! When she is awake it is almost impossible to complete three consecutive sentences without an interjection of “She needs a bottle”, “Is she teething?”, “She discovered her voice, I guess”.

Talking about that- WOW- did she ever discover her voice? She screams randomly, everywhere. What’s up with that? She yells at me, at the bottle, the teddy bear, the toys, the mobile, the TV, the chair, the cookie- WHY?! Why is she yelling? I don’t know. I like to think it’s because she can and it’s tolerable, for now but really- still very annoying. I can’t wait until she’s three and can finally understand and then show her what she did by yelling at everything like her. That will be funny.

But wait, this wasn’t why I initially wanted to write this blog. I had a point I wanted to make because I didn’t want this blog to be like every other blog I wrote- pointless. This one will have a point. By hook or crook. So here it is.

Have you ever noticed that moms on maternity leave are like bears in a cave. I was speaking to a new mom friend or what I like to call a “Momrade”- and I noticed something- she didn’t know a song that was playing all over the radio by this artist called Rihanna. I was like “Seriously?” and she was so I let it go. Then I reflected on my own life and yeah, very true, my point is valid because my hubby was like “Who names their kid Mitt anyway?” and I’m like “Who’s Mitt?” and my husband looks at me with a wayward eye-brow lift and says “You don’t know who Mitt Romney is?” I did, I think. He was some dude in the United States that is doing something but what, I had no clue. Apparently he is of some note since he is running for the presidency. Meh, how was I supposed to know?

Seriously though- why is it that Momrades [unfortunately I need to give credit for the word to Renee Elise- she thought of it first] are so in the dark? I will tell me why- it’s because we have more important things to do like sustain the life we bore and created and now is crying endlessly and incessantly in order to eat the next jar of baby food or suck back the next bottle of formula or suckle on the breast. We are the caregivers, nutritionists, entertainers, secretaries, chauffeurs, deliverers, nurses, chefs, educators, estheticians, valets, butlers, cleaners and cookers for the single most demanding and sweetest creature ever- our child.

I don’t think I understood what multi-tasking truly was until I had a baby. Now I can eat and feed her at the same time. I can also change her diapers, talk on the phone and reach for a new sleeper with my toes simultaneously. I am starting to recognize the value of being able to achieve so much in such little time. The half hour naps she takes that are sprinkled through the day are little gifts of time that require my full energy because it is borrowed time and a very, very narrow window of opportunity. I need to touch up my roots, pluck the eye-brows AND shower. Then I will try and wrap the housewarming gift for a friend and write a few birthday cards for occasions coming up. I will then create the shopping list for… wait… never mind, she woke up.

Ok. So my point is, fellow momrades, I understand. you don’t have to know the latest hit song nor memorize the names of recent candidates that are running for United States presidents but you SHOULD try and read the highlights on the Internet or watch the 11 o’clock news. That way people don’t start thinking that brain cells are dying as we care for our little ones and learning to speak “babynese” (again, my word) is not a current affair nor international news. So get out there and shed those housecoats and take a walk to your nearest news stand/Shopper’s Drug Mart/Convenience store. Buy the paper and read something soon. FYI- Newspaper is awesome for babies who are learning to sit up because they drool and newspaper stops the saliva from pooling on the hardwood floor which is a safety hazard because you can slip and fall!

So that is my entry for tonight. Before I leave you, here are some current news tidbits you might want to read about (thought I would start you off):

There. You are now caught up. YOU ARE WELCOME!

Until next time,

SMartignani

I migrated ALL my blogs from Google and here they are!

I migrated ALL my blogs from Google and here they are!.

A second kid… Bring it!

Ok. So I was reflecting the other day on how beautiful my daughter is and how spoiled she is because she is the centre of her daddy’s and my world when I realized… I may potentially be raising a diva-ish, princess who is snotty, inconsiderate, obnoxious and selfish UNLESS… she gets a sibling. Besides, everyone at Church and on the home front is like- “Hey, when are you going to have another one?” And two of my good friends are pregnant or just popped out a second baby even though their babies are barely 15 months old! So I say… so what if I am just starting to enjoy sleep… who cares about the fact that my incision from the C-section is still apparent and hurts when I bust out laughing and so what if I am just starting to regain a semblance of intimacy with my husband! I say- bring it!

Not this very minute– but soon. My mom thinks I should wait two years, which is her opinion and a fair one at that BUT I am not getting any younger and I wonder if I wait any longer if complications will occur as a result of my old, crotchety age. I don’t want to lose a gall bladder or end up with some weird post-pregnancy disease because I decided to wait. Here is what I am struggling with- going back to work then saying “Sorry, I’m leaving you again for another year- see ya!” I am not sure how I feel about going back to work pregnant. According to Federal law, I only need to work another 5.5 months or so and then I can take another year of mat leave but does that make it right for my employer (who happens to be the Federal government)? So I am at a loss for what to do.

Daycare costs are $275 a week – WHAT?! That is a tremendous amount of money and I know that I am investing in caregiving for my child but $275 a week is expensive! Not that I would give less for a cheaper, no name place but still, how can people afford more than one kid anyway? I am seriously contemplating hiring a nanny. We can pay her $1000 a month and have her take care of the baby and clean the house! That would be a double whammer and very useful I think. But we would have to deal with immigration, CRA and many more government departments before that happens. Also, I have seen those horror shows (namely Jerry Springer and Montel Jones) where the nannies try and seduce the husband not that he ever will, but you can never trust anyone these days. Sad but true. Still, hiring a nanny and having a clean house is a possibility- I think?
On the other side of everything, I am starting to love the fact that my baby has a set sleep time now (I jinxed myself because it is 10:47 and she is still, shockingly awake but the hubby is taking care of her so I can write my blog- that is what good hubbies do- thank you sweetie). Back from the tangent, I love the fact that 99% of the time; she goes to bed at 9ish. Which is great for my husband and I because it gives us lots of time to spend together talking, watching movies and eating popcorn (personal favourite and no, it is not a euphemism for anything else!) The fact that I have “adult” time is awesome except it is deterring me from wanting to get re-pregnant for the second time. I mean, what if the next baby is super-duper fussy and has colic. What if he or she is loud, squeaky, sickly or whiny? I know, right, my baby now- none of those things. She is an angel. Seriously, no bias just telling it as it is. She is quiet, well-mannered, even tempered, calm and serious. She rarely laughs and it would only be for really funny things (she has an eccentric and intelligent sense of humor), I like to think that this will be an indication of her future personality. Fun not flighty, thoughtful not flimsy and serious about life!

So what do I do? Ah, the ageless question after “Why am I here?” and “Where are you God?”

I think I will continue being the darnest best mommy I can be as I try and shove as much information in her bigger than average brain and just wait it out. I will continue with the lullabies, the cooing and the endless stream of silly noises that I can make with my mouth by slapping my tongue against my teeth. I believe that it will happen when it is meant to happen and I will be ready when it does. I am ready now but I am not sure if I’m still in the full mode of healthy thinking. As you can tell from two blogs ago, I am still hormonal so my mind may change tomorrow. For tonight, I will go to sleep and think of newborn baby skin and little baby feet. I will not think of the pain or misery of waiting to find out if the baby is healthy or if my body made it through the gestative transaction of pain for the miracle of life. I will forget the sleepless nights of waking every 3 hours to feed and the frustrating attempts at breast feeding. I will not recall the months of back pain, sciatica, puffiness and missing ankles. I will only remember one thing… my baby now is the result of the love of two and for my next, it will be the result of the love of three…

As I end this post, I must share that I am so blessed to have my baby now and that even if I can’t have anymore children, a fear all or most women have, I am still so grateful for what I have now.

Bless you and your families and until next time.

SMartignani

Solids, Poops and Teething Bliss

WARNING: this may turn you off adopting 6 months old babies!

The doctor tells us to start her on solids. I am one third excited, two-thirds nervous. My culinary skills, how do you say, were quite non-existent for a long time. It isn’t that I didn’t want to learn, it’s just that I was an epic failure in cooking so I gave it up. Why, may I ask, would I want to continue with a skill that I suck at? But again, motherhood changed me. I am home for mat leave and what do I do? I start applying myself and lo and behold, yes you guessed it, I can cook a total of 8 great meals with thousands of variations. I use ground beef and chicken as my meats and I am still experimenting with vegetables. I haven’t even began trudging into pork and veal territory. Whoa- take it easy. Anyway, back to my baby daughter since this blog is about being a mom and NOT my inability to fry an egg. (I should start a blog about that though… who’s with me??)
Ok. So I am dreading starting my baby on solids because that means I will have to steam, bake and boil stuff, then mash it up and freeze it. All so I can take it out, heat it up and feed it to the baby whose taste buds are underdeveloped to begin with. Then comes the art of puree’ing everything we eat as she gets older so that she is introduced to human food and then she can decide whether to be a carnivore, a herbivore or an omnivore (remember that from grade 5 science class?? I do!)
I am getting way ahead of myself in being nervous. Let’s conquer the current dilemma. What veggie should I start with? Which ones should I avoid? What if she’s allergic? How do I know when something is sufficiently steamed? How many poops will that equal to?
So many questions, so little time.
So I dove in head first and Bugs Bunny inspired me. Why not start with carrots? They are orange, fun colour, and they are good for the eyes. I hated them throughout my life and when I was pregnant, I forced myself to eat them in order to pretend I was being healthy. And so I steamed them, stabbed them with a fork a couple of times and when they were sufficiently mushy, I took them out, mashed them, distributed the mush evenly into 7 small square containers we boughts and I placed them in the fridge. Then came the time I have been anxiously anticipating- feeding the steashed (steamed+mashed= steached) carrots. I placed her in her little chair, velcroed on a bib, had a wet paper towel on the ready, her burp cloth, a bottle of prepared formula and a heated small container of steashed carrots (if that word catches on and becomes quoted in Dr. Spock books, we will know two things: one- he is not dead and two- it was read here first!). I digress, as usual.
So I fed her the carrots. I am not sure what I expected but I definitely did NOT expect the face she made. It hurts my side from laughter every time I think back on it. I sang a song and I got her to open her mouth (she knows this part because we’ve been feeding her cereal which was also funny but this is funnier) and in her mouth it went… her face distorted into the most disgusted expression I ever seen.
She looked at me with mistrust as if saying “How could you feed me this? How could you sing a song and be excited when you are about to feed me sludge that you scraped off the bottom of a grease fryer in a fast food joint that shall remain nameless?? HOW COULD YOU?” and yes, I really felt she said all that in that fleeting moment before she hurled out of her mouth the ENTIRE spoonful of steashed carrots. It was beyond hilarious. I was laughing so hard, the sound startled her and now she was disgusted and startled, let me tell you, makes for a VERY unhappy baby. She began to weep with big fat tears coming down her fat pink cheeks. I was feeling guilty and so full of mirth, I decided to do what any other new mother would do at that moment, TAKE A PICTURE!!!
So on to the poop, which apparently discusses things with the rest of the body because the output matches the input if you know what I mean. It is definitely smellier and the ‘movement’ happens more often. I am sure that my daughter will hate me when she reads these in the future but for now suffice it to say that her poopage is aromatic and regular.
Moving on to the next splendid surprise that mothers receive from their little babies at six-months-old. Teething has got to be one of the most annoying and unnecessarily saddest events in a baby’s life. The drool, the tears, the screaming, the insanity and that is just me… let alone the baby who is also experiencing the same symptoms!
I thought my child was quiet. I thought she was mild and even-tempered. I actually thought she was strong, brave and resilient. What happened?? A few teeth want to escape from her soft fuchsia gums and THAT turns her into a crying, whining, agitated, irritated, sickly creature? I cannot remember getting my teeth as a baby but I know it must hurt like heck because she didn’t even cry when she got her shots. I wish they would just come out during her sleep or suddenly- “Oh look honey, all her teeth came out last night”. Why this agonizing, drawn out, painful process that enflames an already sticky situation (being parents is now a situation)?
I really hope that the pain subdues and that the teeth come out without much of a fight. I also hope they come out with lots of gaps in between (apparently that is the healthiest thing). I have thoroughly inspected my daughter’s jaw (especially when she is screaming her little heart out) and I can clearly see she has lots of room in that tiny mouth for some tiny teeth. I am hoping for anything soon so I can stop steashing and minimize the process to cutting food into really small pieces. That way we cut out the middle-man or thing- a.k.a the mini-mincer.
I think that this is it for now. I am all vented out.
Until next time…
S. Martignani

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