Tease

Standing in the bathroom getting ready for work, I felt a tug on my clothes. It was my darling child. "Potty! Potty!" he called, and then sat on his little potty. I got really excited. He was fully clothed so I undressed him and sad him on his little throne and waited.....and then I waited some more. Nothing happened! He stood and started playing with the tassels on the towels so I turned back to my task of getting ready. A moment later I looked back to see Connor pooping. Not on the potty. No, that would be too easy. He was pooping in the floor, still blissfully playing with the towels as though nothing extraordinary was happening.

I shrieked a little. I couldn't help it. I quickly put him in the shower to keep him from stepping in the offending piles and set to work cleaning up the mess.

When I started the day I didn't really expect to be cleaning poop off my bathroom floor, but I guess parenthood requires adaptability. I just wish THESE parts of parenthood were less squishy.

Shoes!

Connor's new favorite thing to do is take Luna for a walk. I let him hold the leash and she pulls him along at a frantic pace that he can barely match but he seems to think it is the coolest thing in the world.

Yesterday I told him "Connor, let's put your shoes on so we can take Luna for a walk" "Walk!" he echoed happily. I went to the back to grab his sneakers. When I walked back into the living room he was returning at the same moment from the kitchen with his crocs. We looked at each other in surprise, both with a pair of his shoes in our hands. When he saw his sneakers in mine he got exasperated and threw his crocs on the floor and stormed out of the room.

It was so cute I had to laugh...but at the same time I was really impressed with him for understanding what was needed so clearly.

High On Love

I used to think those people who were all gooshy about their kids and talked about them being everyday miracles and such were sooo freaking cheesy.

Ha. That was before I became a mom.

Holy schnike balls this oxytocin stuff is f'ing amazing.

I am crazy in love with my kid. Head over heels, you jump I jump, come what may kinda love.

Not to say he doesn't drive me up the walls some times. He's taught me that whining isn't learned it's inherent. How I hate the whining!

But...the sound of his voice, his mischievous grins, his waddly walk and crazy nudist tendencies....heck, even the way he hugs all over the dog but refuses to give me a kiss when asked (cause it's evidence of that will, like a furious little flame beaconing the person he will eventually become) makes me all smushy inside and I find myself smiling and weeping, sometimes at random.

Is it like this for everyone?

I think if I were ever able to forgive Connor's sperm donor dad for walking out on his son it would be because I feel pity for him. He's missing out on all the good stuff. This wonderful, amazing, charming, sweet, stubborn, infuriating little boy.

Connor's Busted Brow

I got the call right as I was about to leave work. I didn't recognize the number, so I didn't answer right away. Decided to wait till I was leaving the building. As I walked to the car I listened to the messages...it was the owner of the daycare calling from her personal phone. At first I thought she was calling to tell me I was going to have to pay a late fee for paying a day late. On the 2nd message she left, she told me to call back right away. Not a money thing then.

Immediately a million terrible possibilities were floating through my mind, but the voice message didn't sound scared or panicked so I took a deep breath and told myself it was going to be ok. I called back and she told me that Connor'd had a little accident and cut his head open a little. She said it was just a small gash and wasn't even bleeding anymore. No big deal, right? I drove to pick him up as usual, thinking he'd have a bump and a scratch and they were just calling to cover their butts.

When I got there he was asleep in Odessa's (the primary caregiver in his room) lap. She held a bag of ice on his forehead. I walked over to her and she didn't want to show me. I told her to let me see it, and she did, reluctantly.






I tried not to react too much when I saw the gash on his head. I picked him up and he flopped on my shoulder, not wanting to wake up. That scared me. Aren't you supposed to keep someone awake when they've had a head injury? He eventually stirred and I took him out, trying to decide what to do. The pediatrician was closed, but I wasn't sure his injury was hospital worthy. I took him to my sister to have her look at it. On the way I called the 24-hour pediatrician's line. The nurse said take him to Urgent Care, my sis said he might could just get by with a butterfly bandage.

Decided on Urgent Care. I discovered when I had driven all the way back to my street that my Urgent Care doesn't see children under 2. They told me I would have to go to the hospital. Fortunately, the women behind me told me that there was an Urgent Care just for children not too far from where I was, so we went there.

Along the way I started updating Facebook. It didn't take long for Van to call me and had a little "Come to Jesus" meeting with me about letting her find out that Connor was hurt via Facebook. In retrospect, not the best thing. I wasn't thinking entirely clearly at the time, though.

When I got to the Urgent Care I saw a sign that said to expect a 2 1/2 hour wait...it wasn't kidding. We were there about half an hour when they brought Connor back to put numbing cream on his head. They didn't tell me WHY they were doing it, I had to ask. He was going to need stitches. I was a little put out by the fact that no one had officially inspected him before they had determined he would need stitches. The "examination" that determined this happened across a desk while I was signing in. Ah well, it was pretty obvious to me that he needed SOMETHING.



After the numbing cream was on, Connor really perked up. He ran around the entire room yelling AAAAAAEEEE! Not really screaming so much as vocalizing loudly. I didn't want to be one of those moms with the wild kid, but I knew if I tried to restrain him he would have a full-blown tantrum and I didn't want to risk him hurting himself more, or get him all upset before he had someone sewing on his face. I let him roam. I just followed him around and tried to keep him from poking strangers or stealing their bottles. (he likes to take other children's bottles and pacifiers)

Van soon arrived like a wonderful angel bearing food and a toy for Connor. They told me at first that he could eat but then they said he couldn't. Poor kid could smell the food and was ravenous, but I couldn't let him have any. It was sad.

They called us back a 2nd time and gave Connor a sedative. They said it would take 20 minutes to kick in fully. Why didn't they give him that when they gave him the numbing cream? Who knows? It didn't take long for the sedative to kick in. In minutes he was wobbly, and then he was so woozy he couldn't sit up with his toy. He just flopped over and played with it lying down.



At one point when I was holding him he flopped his head back, looked up into my face with bleary eyes and laughed. He was soooo stoned! I could almost hear him saying "I LOVE you man!"

Finally they called us back for stitches. They wrapped him up tight in a big papoose. Stoned or not he did NOT like that. He screamed his frustration loudly. They let me help hold him and covered all but the wound with a sterile blanket. They told me I could sing to him, so I did.

This was a mistake.

I am usually pretty good in a crisis. I just turn of emotions and deal with the situation and save reaction until later. I was able to endure 45 grueling minutes of my son's agonized screams while they poked him over and over again trying to find a vein for an IV. I watch BOTH lumbar punctures. If he's been through it, I've been there, and I kept cool and calm the entire time. I was able to do this because I was in detached "crisis" mode. When I started singing to him I clicked into "mommy" mode. I couldn't help it. Mommy is NOT cool, calm, and collected. Why they sewed him up he screamed in frustration cause he was being held immobile and they were touching his face. He HATES that. He was NOT, however, crying.

I can not say as much for myself. Tears were streaming down my face why they sewed him and it was all I could do to keep from sobbing outright. I couldn't help but think about how small and fragile he is...and it killed me that he was hurt. Urgh. Emotional stuff!

We got through it though. Three whole stitches!



When I got him home he ate like a horse and conked out almost immediately. A much deserved rest.

It took me a little longer to get to sleep. I kept thinking about how we're all basically just pillowcases full of guts and how fragile life really is. You know, upbeat, happy stuff.

Eventually I was able to sleep. It wasn't an easy sleep though.

When fate gave me a boy I knew I probably would have to see him get stitched up at least once....I just never thought it would be before his 2nd birthday!

My Little Empathizer

Last night I had a moment where the weight of the things I have been dealing with lately slammed into me with the delicacy of a drunk hippo, and before I could stop myself, I burst into tears. Not quiet, respectable tears. Oh, no. The kind of embarrassingly loud sobs that cause the neighbors to poke their heads in to see what's wrong.

Connor's head snapped up at the sudden sound. He dropped his new favorite toy (a silicone spatula). He thought I was laughing at first, and he started to laugh too...but then either my expression or the fact that I was frantically rubbing the tears off my face clued him in to the fact that I was crying. He started to cry too. He stood up and toddled over to me and hugged my legs, laying his head in my lap. I picked him up and instead of trying to wriggle away as he usually does, he snuggled into my arms and clung to my shirt. That just set me off more, although now I was crying for a different reason. He whimpered along with me until I finally got it all under control and set him down again. In a few minutes we were both laughing at Luna's antics as she frantically chased the ball I was throwing for her.

Oh Connor, when it is all too much, you remind me of why I keep going. I love you little man.

Baby Steps

Connor, my darling little baby will soon be a baby no more. Those timid first steps are moments away. Will it be tomorrow? Next week? Next month? I'm not really sure but I know it will be soon. He's actually taken a few half-steps. He'll be standing up and see something interesting and move in that direction...but then he realizes what he is doing and plops to the ground. It is a good thing he's wearing a diaper for extra padding!

His new trick is kissing mommy on request. I'll present him my cheek and say "gimme kiss!" and he'll grab my head and press his wide open mouth to my face. He hasn't QUITE grasped the concept of close-mouthed kisses but I don't mind really. I just keep a towel handy.

Last night was one of those moments where I wanted a camera but nothing was handy. He was pulling clothes out of my laundry basket when his paci fell in. "uh oh!" I cried. He reached and reaaaaached and finally retrieved it. He held it up to me with a triumphant expression on his face. "Yay!" I exclaimed, clapping. "Yay!" He smiled micheviously and threw the paci back into the laundry basket. "uh oh!" I repeated....he fished it out again and basked in my praise. A moment later, he tossed the paci in again. This time he threw it too hard and it fell to the other side of the basket where he couldn't reach. My heart soon swelled with "My baby is SO smart!" pride when he edged around the basket till he was on the other side so he could get to his paci.

This went on for a few minutes until, oh no! The paci fell right in the middle and he couldn't reach it from any angle. He tried tipping the basket towards him. He reached and grunted and reeaaached and grunted but he just couldn't get it. He finally gave up and decided to play with his pull elephant.

It sounds stupid and sappy, but I fall a little bit more in love with him every day.

What?!

Since he's been born Connor has been held and/or rocked to sleep after his evening bottle. Even though recently I have been leaving him in his crib to cry it out if he woke up when I put him down, I always made sure he was asleep first.

Last night bed time was a struggle. Usually he is in a half-stupor after his bottle. He fights being burped because he wants to lay down and go to sleep. This time, though, he was wide awake. He tried laying down, but it was like he couldn't sleep. He would close his eyes and I thought he was drifting off but after a minute or two he would whine and cry and throw himself about in frustration. He tried on his belly, on his back, snuggled under my arm. I tried rocking, singing, and reading. Nothing worked. I even let him sit up next to me and watch a little tv.

An hour and a half after his bed time I'd had enough. I decided to put him in his crib and deal with the inevitable tears. I took him to his room and laid him down. He sighed and curled up in a little ball. Shocked, I fled the room as quietly as possible, expecting woeful wails to follow me out the door. Nothing but silence. Minutes later he still wasn't crying. I listened at the door. He was asleep!

Is it possible he's outgrown being rocked to sleep? I'll try putting him in his crib while he is in his post-bottle torpor tonight and see what happens.

....I can't believe I'm saying this, because I have been thrilled with every development that has made Connor more independent, but I think I might actually MISS my evenings holding my sleeping child.

The other day I was kissing all over his face and he pushed me away with a very distinctive sound of annoyance.

Already, Connor?

...one thing for certain, suddenly having a baby who no longer wants constant cuddling isn't giving me the insane urge to have another one. I may miss it, but there are sooo many things I won't miss. Like formula.

I JUST BOUGHT THE LAST TWO CANS OF FORMULA I WILL EVER NEED!!

Yep! By the time my Jumbo Costco cans of formula run out, Connor will be a year old and I can switch him fully to whole milk. I am a little intimidated by the change. It means that most his nutrients are going to come from the food I feed him.

I was reading the other day about how important proper nutrition is for brain development. There was a time when it was a parent's job to keep their babies healthy and alive and just raise them up with proper ethics and behavior. Now its almost as if we're expected to do everything in our power to raise little prodigies. Maybe it is unrealistic pressure from the media and companies that want us to buy their products, but it is HARD not to buy into it. Doesn't EVERY parent want what is best for their child? If there is a food, a product, a toy that can help them develop into healthier, smarter, happier people how could you NOT want it? It is hard to know when to draw the line.

I do the best I can, but is it possible to ever do enough?

Connor, Please Stop Trying To Die On Me

At nine months the fear of SIDS had almost evaporated.  Connor can roll proficiently in both directions, he can crawl and stand.  I didn't really worry about him suffocating in his crib.  I still use breathable bumpers and a breathable blanket just in case, though, because I don't like to take chances...and the Angel Care BeBe Infant Monitor.   It detects the minute movements of his breathing through the crib mattress.  If there has been no movement for 20 seconds, the alarm sounds.

I purchased it after I had to turn back in the respiratory monitor the hospital gave me after those reflux events where he stopped breathing on me

In the 5 months that I have had the monitor the only alarm I have had was when I took Connor out of his crib and forgot to turn it off.  Until this morning.

I was already awake.  I woke up at 5am and my brain didn't want to leave me alone enough so that I could go back to sleep.  I was lying in bed trying to ignore my obnoxious thoughts when I heard a beep.  It was the 15 second warning beep.  I wasn't sure what I was hearing until the full alarm went off.

I leaped out of bed and ran into Connor's room.  I snapped on the light.  He was laying face down as usual.  In a moment I was at his bedside.  I could tell he wasn't breathing.  I picked him up, his body was completely limp.  As I turned him over he took in a deep, gasping breath.  

I discovered his pacifier lodged deep in the folds under his neck.  I had to pry it loose from his skin.  I can only imagine that when he was laying on top of it, the pressure of his body caused it to press against his windpipe, cutting off his air.

I held Connor to me for a long time and just felt him breathing.  I looked down at him to see if he was awake.  His dark, liquid eyes were staring up at me placidly.  When I met his gaze he smiled.

I don't know why Connor had slept so heavily that he didn't wake up when he stopped breathing...maybe it was because he had gotten his 9 month immunizations only hours earlier.  I do believe the Angel Care BeBe Infant Monitor saved my child's life.  I need to write them a thank you letter.

How Much Is Too Much?

My sister and I were discussing Kayleigh's story and she asked me:  "How much is too much?  How much money is too much to spend? How many surgeries are too many?  When do you say enough is enough?"

At the time I shrugged my shoulders.  I didn't have my answer until later, when I held my sleeping child, marvelling at how sweet and beautiful his sleeping face was to me.

The simple answer is that there is that too much does not exist when your child is concerned.  I would willingly drive myself into a debt I could not possibly recover from for Connor.  I would work as many jobs as I had to...and if that was not enough I would beg, lie, even steal if that was the only way that I could obtain the means to save his life.   

Even though I don't believe that prayer works, I am not ashamed to ask for prayers, or even animal sacrifice for his benefit just on the OFF chance that there could be some positive result.

As for what I would be willing to put him through physically and emotionally...I don't have an answer to that question and I desperately hope I never have to face it.  I would urge him to fight as much as he had the capacity to fight.  He is strong and stubborn and I know it would take a lot before I was willing to let him give up.

It is hard...and yet it is easy.  When your child is first put into your arms you know that the tiny person you're holding is bigger than you....and there is nothing you wouldn't do for them.  If you have someone in your life that you would die for, kill for....how could it be possible that ANYTHING would be too much?

Connor's New Tricks

Connor has been a show-off this week, cruising around on the furniture like he owns the place.  The other night he got bold and let go of his toy box  with one hand, inched over and grabbed a table with the other hand, then took the few steps necessary to be full-body clinging to his latest conquest.

It's time to glue all the furniture to the walls apparently.

As strange as this may seem, more exciting to me than the cruising (which just fills me with dread of all the baby-proofing yet to be done) is clapping.  I know that may seem a little strange, but when Connor claps at me I'm overwhelmed with delight.  I can't help but clap along with him saying "Yayyyy!  Yayyyy!" in time with the beat.

Another thing Connor has been doing is a little...odd.  He has been rubbing his face on things.  Last night I found him "crawling" by dragging his face across the carpet.  I sat down next to him and he grabbed my foot and rubbed his face against it.  A little disturbed, I picked him up, only to have him grab MY face and rub his drooly, dirty cheek against mine.

...thanks Connor.

This morning as I was nursing him, he pulled my hand to his face and pressed it to his cheek.   I don't mind gently caressing my son's soft, perfect little face....but I have to admit, I think this new behaviour is a little weird.

MPSP V/S The Eater Of All Things

I keep writing about Connor's new abilities, but I have neglected to write about mine. I have a new super power. It's called MPSP. Mommy's Pacifier Sensory Perception. In short, I can sense an ejected pacifier with deadly accuracy from 20 paces.

I became aware of this ability one day when I was holding Connor, who was happily nomming his paci when my hand snapped out and caught the falling bit of plastic and silicone before I'd even realized anything had happened.

My reflexes unfortunately do not match my MPSP, so there are times when I don't always catch the paci, but I ALWAYS know when it is about to pop out.

Connor has made a game of this. He makes an effort to spit out the paci whenever it is MOST inconvenient or when we are in a place where, once it has hit the floor, I can't just suck it up and stick it back in his mouth. I have to wash it. Should I not IMMEDIATELY wash and return said paci, he starts up a wail for it in such woeful and piteous tones that I can't stand up under the scathing looks of passersby who don't understand why I am withholding such a simple form of comfort that the poor child so desperately wants.

"Why don't you just get one of those tethers you can attach to their clothes" you ask? Ahh, but where would the fun be in that? I enjoy matching wits with my son day after day, pitting his reflexes and sneakiness against my MPSP.....

either that, or he has learned to pull the tether off rendering it useless. You can pick which one sounds most viable.

Anyway, so I have come to depend on my MPSP to allow Connor to play with things I wouldn't normally let him touch. Small things, or things that shouldn't go in the mouth for whatever reason are safe with him as long as the pacifier stays firmly locked in place. Once it has slipped from the lips my MPSP kicks in and I can halt my son from devouring his prize. I can feel like I am not limiting his experiences and being over-protective without actually letting him do anything he shouldn't. It frustrates him, but works out well for me.

Until today, when the little devil learned to defeat MPSP.

I had him in the car with me. I was on my lunch break and I was getting ready to feed him. He was idly playing with the change in my door handle and I was busy examining a new scratch on his thigh. My only warning was the sound of metal clicking against plastic. I looked down and the pacifier was where it should be in his mouth...but he had it pushed up and UNDERNEATH it he was eating a quarter. I saw it just as it disappeared between his lips.

Do you know how much you can actually think in the span of about a second? The next moment inside my head went something like this: "OHGODOHGODOHGODHE'SGOINGTOCHOKEI'MGOINGTOHAVETOCALL911OHGOHEISGOINGTOSWALLOWOHGOTHEYWILLNEEDSURGERYOHGOOHGOHE'SGOINGTOCHOKEOHGOI'MGOINGTOHAVETODOCPROHGODPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEDON'TSWALLOW"

Didn't make a lot of sense? Me either...and my brain just kept going along those lines for at LEAST 30 seconds AFTER I made him spit out the quarter and it was sitting, covered with drool, in my change bowl. Seriously, I was very freaked out for quite a bit there, even though everything was fine.

I've lost track of how many points Connor has gotten now, but one thing is certain. Just when I think I am ahead, he goes and changes the game on me.

The Zombies Are Coming

There are three dreams that I dream several times a year. Flying, Giant Natural Disaster, and Zombies. I enjoy the first one. The last two, not so much. The events and dreams are always different, but the themes remain the same.

Last night it was Zombies.

I worked on a science base where zombies had been artificially created. There were 2 secure yards where the zombies were being held. As an extra piece of security, a part of every Zombie's jaw had been removed, rendering them incapable of biting. Basically they were muzzled dogs. Reasonably safe as long as the muzzles stay on.

Except, the story would be incredibly boring if everything were safe and no one got eaten, right?

One of my co-workers (not an actual, real life co-worker, just some random guy with a beard) decided it would be funny if they put the jaw parts back on 2 of the zombies and had them fight. I thought this was an INCREDIBLY bad idea. I asked another co-worker (a real one this time, Ron Kennedy) if the zombies would know enough to get their jaw parts on for themselves if they were to get ahold of them. He assured me that they were fully capable.

The idiot co-worker grabbed a HANDFUL of the jaw parts and headed out with a group of other make workers to "mess with the deadies" as they put it. Ron wasn't too worried but I was terrified. He disappeared into a closed storage room and I began to frantically search for the security gun I had seen earlier. I had seen it, but our office was incredibly disorganized and I couldn't find it. I was going to put a bullet in idiot co-workers head. He was going to kill us all with his stupidity. That's how it ALWAYS goes.  You don't mess around when zombies are involved, you just DON'T. 

Suddenly the sounds of screams and gunshots caught my attention. It was too late to stop The Idiot. He was already being overwhelmed and eaten, as were the group of men that went with him. In fact, some were already rising again as they Newly Dead. Of course, they had taken the gun with him so I was now defenseless.

Zombies began to shamble towards the door. I closed and barricaded it at quickly as I could, but I knew it wouldn't last long under the pressure of their onslaught. The glass of the window broke. The door began to splinter. I turned to run...

And ran right into Ron. He was already a zombie. HOW!??! I asked myself in a panic. He had been in a closed storage room. The zombies were still outside! How had they gotten to him? ...they must have though because he was staring at me with dead eyes and peeling skin and a gaping wound on his chest.

He grabbed me and bit me. Hard.  

He barely broke the skin, but I knew my fate now.  I was going to be a zombie.  I sighed and headed outside.  

The outside of the "lab" was the outside of my mom's house.  (Hey, it's a dream.  It doesn't have to be logical)  I started walking down the driveway.  The zombies were pouring into the streets by now and began attacking neighbors who wandered out of their house.  I decided that since I was a zombie now I should start acting like one.  I didn't have any particular hunger for human flesh, but, you know, when in Rome.  I walked up to one of my neighbors who was transfixed by watching someone else being ripped to shreds, grabbed his hand and bit him.  I didn't break the skin, but I figured it was enough.  "Looks like you're a zombie too now" I told him. 

We decided to go off and do zombie things together.

We got in his car and drove to the mall.  At first it was calm but it didn't take long for the place to dissolve into chaos.  We went to the food court because I was hungry (but still not particularly for human flesh).   I ordered a sandwich and took it from the attendant just as he was over-whelmed by a rabid zombie eating his face.

I sat down with my companion at a table.  There were screams and blood all around us, but since it really didn't have anything to do with me I started in on my food.  My companion was strangely silent, staring around us in horror.  I assumed he wasn't adjusting as well to being a zombie as I was.  He abruptly stood up and fled.  I watched him run and idly wondered to myself when my skin would start flaking and peeling off.

The attendant who gave me my sandwich rose, then, from behind the counter and started moaning at me.  He was staring at me fixedly and trying to walk through the counter to get to me.  I was a little confused...why was he interested in ME? I noticed then that HIS skin was already sloughing off and he looked...like a corpse.  But I didn't.  Not even a little bit.

Realization dawning I looked around me.  I was surrounded by other zombies, all who were staring at me as though I was the most fascinating thing on the planet.  I stood slowly.  A few thoughts suddenly became clear to me.

That closet that Ron had been in WAS closed off completely. 

Since I had been standing in front of the entrance, a zombie COULDN'T have gotten in there without me noticing.

Ron thinks it is INCREDIBLY FUNNY to sneak up behind me and scare me in my cubicle.  It wouldn't be entirely out of character to don a zombie costume to frighten me.

....I am not a zombie, but I am surrounded by several that want to eat me.

Oh.  Shiii....

At that moment my child's cries woke me up.  I was relieved.  I don't think that dream would have ended well for me.

I blearily looked at the clock.  4am.  I dragged myself out of bed.  As I was changing Connor's diaper, it occurred to me that all of my plans to survive if zombies attacked would be impossible to implement with an infant.

Yes. I have plans to survive the zombie hordes.  I'm not insane, I am a recovering insomniac.  Let me just say that being objective and logical at 4am after days of no sleep isn't exactly one of my strengths.  It was during one of these sleep deprived fevers that I devised my initial survival plan.  It has been revised often over the years as lack of sleep or reoccurring zombie nightmares respectively bring those thoughts to the forefront of my mind.

I gazed down at my fragile son and felt a deep, chilling fear at the thought that I couldn't protect us if I had to in that situation.  His inevitable cries would attract them making stealth impossible.  It would also be impossible to carry him and all the supplies I would need for the both of us and be capable of any real speed.  Plus, my dexterity in avoiding attacks would be significantly reduced having a baby strapped to my back. Basically, if the zombies come tomorrow, we'd be toast. 

The logical step to take to survive would be to leave him behind.  I could never do that though, so the best I could hope for is that we'd die together.  It might be different if he were older but as it is...

So yeah, remember what I said about not being in the clearest state of mind at 4am? I had a very hard time falling back to sleep after that, worrying about zombies.

Oh...and Facebook didn't help.  The day after I had this dream I logged on to Facebook and took a random quiz "How Will You Die?"

My result?  Torn Apart by Zombies.

I knew it!

My Boy, The Future

I had to share this today because in my (somewhat limited) experience, this is pretty much the awesomest thing ever.  

Remember when I said that one of my pics of Connor had him looking all noble like the future president of the United States?

Well NOW I have further evidence!

10 Minute Baby Food Recipes

As a mother of a very active 8 month old, I don't have a lot of time to do...well, pretty much anything except chase after him and try to keep him out of stuff. I make his purees after he has gone to sleep and freeze them till they are ready to serve. I still like to make him fresh food from time to time...and some things just don't freeze well, so I had to come up with some recipes that can be executed in 10 minutes or less...which incidentally is the amount of time a busy infant can reasonably be entertained by a high-chair tray full of cheerios.

Here are a few of the recipes I've come up with. Feel free to use them if you're ever keeping Connor (yes, Mom, this means you) or for your own baby.

If you have any suggestions for other 10 minute recipes I would be THRILLED to hear them.


Fruit Yogurt

I know this hardly counts as a recipe, but I have a little trick that I use that seems to make Connor enjoy it more.

1/2 Organic Fruit (banana, apple, pear, grape, blue berries)
1/2 Cup Full Fat Plain Organic Yogurt
1 Steamer Bag

 Chopper/Grinder/Blender/Food Processor/Magic Bullet

Wash and peel Fruit and cut into quarters.
Toss into Steamer Bag and throw in the microwave for 1-2 minutes.
Pop steamed Fruit into Food Processor and blend till smooth.  
Mix 1/2 fruit with 1/2 cup yogurt while the fruit is still warm.

Serve.

The rest of the fruit can be refrigerated or frozen into ice cube trays. If you are using Apples or Bananas, add a 1/2 tsp of apple or lemon juice to prevent browning.

Avocado & Cheese

Connor isn't a huge fan of avocado, but it is one of those foods that are highly recommended for babies so I have been trying to find a way to get Connor to eat it. I finally found a way! He loved it so much he ate an entire CUP of the stuff. (For an 8 month old, that is a LOT.)

1 Ripe Organic Avocado
1 Cup Cottage Cheese
1/8 Cup Shredded Mozzarella
Powdered Garlic
Nature Seasons

**NOTE** When serving cheese to baby please make sure that it is pasteurized!!

Peel Avocado and cut away from the core.

Mash Avocado with a fork

Mix in Cottage Cheese and Mozzarella

Add a dash of Powered Garlic and Nature Seasons

Microwave for 15-20 seconds (until cheese is a little melty)

Stir well 

Serve.

Warning: Baby may have some righteously bad breath after this...and beware the burps.  They can be lethal!

Scrambled Eggs & Cheese

1 Egg

1/4  Cup Shredded Cheddar Cheese

1 Pat Unsalted Butter

Garlic Powder

Nature Seasons

1 Small Frying Pan

Set burner to medium and add frying pan

Add butter to pan

While butter is melting:

Crack and pour Egg into a bowl

Beat Egg

Add Cheese

Add a dash of Garlic Powder & Nature Seasons

Mix well

Pour Egg Mixture into pan

Scramble till well done.

Serve.

Connor won't eat an entire egg on his own, and since eggs don't re-warm well I like to help him finish!

Chicken Casserole 

1/4 Cup Ground Chicken

1/4 Cup Cottage Cheese

1 TBS Ground Flax Seed

1 Pat Unsalted Butter

Garlic Powder

Nature Seasons

1 small frying pan

1 chopper/grinder/blender/food processor/magic bullet

Set burner to medium and add frying pan

Add Butter to pan

Add Chicken to pan

Add Garlic Powder and Nature Seasons to pan

Brown Chicken

If you have not already ground the flax seed you can do it while the chicken is cooking.  

Try to keep the chicken seperated.  You do not want it to clump.

Add Cottage Cheese to pan

Add Flax Seed to pan

The Cottage Cheese adds some necessary moisture to this recipe but you don't want it to be runny.  Cook until some of the moisture has evaporated.

Once cooked toss into food processor and blend roughly.  You don't want a soupy texture but the bits of chicken should be smooth enough to not pose a choking hazard.

Serve.

To make this recipe I use my magic bullet.  I use the grinding blade to grind the flax seed then switch to the chopping blade for the cassarole.  

The flax seed adds a good dose of healthy fiber to this recipe without altering the texture or taste.

This is all I have come up with so far.  As I stated before, if anyone has any suggestions I would love to hear them!

Slow Down Baby!

This week Connor has delighted, terrified, and creeped me out with a boat-load of new milestones and accomplishments.

It didn't take Connor long to go from a wriggly, scrunchy army crawl to a full-on up on the hands a knees crawl. As you might have gathered from my previous post, I completely underestimated his abilities and got quite a shock the other day.

When I take a shower I put on a Baby Einstein DVD, surround him in toys and wash as quickly as I can. Usually when I come out he is sitting there peacefully playing with his toys and glancing up at the tv from time to time. THIS time, though, I heard hear him crying the moment I turned off the shower spray....but the cries sound strangely distant. I rushed out of the bathroom, towelless, and discover that he is NOT at all where I left him. I can still hear him crying though. A few frantic seconds later I found him in the kitchen, crawling, crying, and obviously looking for me. The moment he saw me his sobs halted and he rewarded me with a big smile. He plopped himself on his rear and raised his arms up for me. I tried to give him a hug but apparently he isn't fond of getting squeezed by a wet, terrified mommy.

The potted plant phase is officially over!!!

I don't have a video of the new crawl yet because he is ultra-sneaky ninja baby and does most of his crawling when I am not looking or when I don't have a recording device handy. If I bring one out he just stares at it in fascination and tries to take it from me.

I bet I could make some money designing various electronics (cameras, video cameras, cell phones, etc) that looked so boring that babies and small children would ignore them altogether. Like a cloaking device for your cool, expensive, highly breakable stuff. Of course, they wouldn't appeal to a lot of shoppers since people are all about the shiny, but at least SOME people prefer practical to pretty. I'd have my niche market...and I'd be my own customer!

You would have thought with the crawling I would have learned my lesson, but no, I still struggle with thinking of Connor as the little baby that can't get around on his own.

At night I put him in a sleep sack because he can't really crawl well in it and he tends to wake up less with his head jammed up against the bars of his crib because he crawled himself into a corner in his sleep. Assuming that because he can't crawl that he can't move in other ways is a fallacy, though. Something I learned the other morning when I went to get him up for the day and found him standing up in his crib, silently staring at me. It was very Children Of The Corn creepy....perhaps because I wasn't expecting it, or perhaps because he was so quiet...or maybe it was the way the shadows of the room fell across his face and the only thing I could see of his expression in the dim light was the wet glint of his eyes...

Maybe I just have too verdant of an imagination. "Connor?" I questioned nervously. "DADA!" he greeted me enthusiastically. It was just Connor after all, not some alien changeling child. Yay!

Oh, and since I've mentioned it I should tell you that Connor has finally said Momma!! It isn't something he says often and it is obvious he isn't actually referring to me. In fact, I am fairly certain he thinks my name is Dada...anyway...He makes this face that makes him look like a little old man. He sucks his lips in over his gums and smacks his mouth. It reminds me of my dad when he takes his teeth out. While making this face, Connor often coos and goes MomMomMomMom....which COUNTS dammit. He said Momma! I'm taking it!

He hit another milestone that I probably wouldn't have noticed or counted if it weren't in the books. He's banging objects together! It DOES make me giggle when he does it because sometimes in an effort to look at both items at the same time he ends up crossing his eyes and then toppling over. Am I bad for laughing at that?



He doesn't fall over in this video, but it's still pretty cute.

The other big thing he's done is that he's learned to wave Bye Bye!! I don't know why it delights me so much, but I feel like squealing every time I see him do it. It is incredibly adorable! He did it for the first time at the park the other day...and then again at daycare. Now he even does it for the mirror, which just makes me want to squish him it's so cute.

I guess part of why I am so happy is that NOT waving is an early warning sign for Autism, one of my last big developmental fears. I've had no real reason to suspect autism from Connor, as he is an incredibly happy and social child....but a mother worries.

I am thrilled at all these new developments, but I would be lying if I said I didn't feel a little overwhelmed by how fast he is changing and MORE than a little nervous at the thought that he could be walking soon. I feel ALMOST as scared and unprepared for a toddler as I did for a baby before he was born. I survived having an infant, so hopefully I can survive having a toddler.

Wish me luck!

oh...and for today's cuteness: Connor enjoying some CHEESE!

Holy Crap!

Connor's parenting lesson for my today: Never underestimate the achievable distance of an unsupervised crawler.

...I am going to go restock my heart medication now.

Bad Blogging Mom! Bad!

I haven't been keeping up with the blog lately. I could offer a lot of excuses about being busy or what-not, but lets just be honest here. Once I get Connor down for the night I pump, watch a little t.v. and then crash. All of my online and offline activites have suffered.

Why am I so tired lately? Is it the renewed breastfeeding? The newly mobile 8 month old? Just the daily grind wearing me down? I really can't say. My friends who are meddling around in the dating world keep telling me how they met so-and-so person and spoke with them on the phone for six, seven, eight hours at a time.

I can not IMAGINE having the time OR the energy to talk to someone that long. Lately I find I am brusque on phone-calls even when I have the time to chat, which is rare in itself. Those moments where I DON'T have to be someone's mommy, co-worker, or supportive friend and family member are so brief that I tend to guard them a bit jealously. Yay for silence!

Anyway, so I've missed out on telling you guys a lot of exciting things.

First: Connor has teeth now! The first one came in on the 3rd (bottom left) and the 2nd one about a week later (bottom right). They are completely adorable!



Next: Connor had his first Easter! And on his first Easter he had his first pancake! He loved it. Looooooved it. I was breaking off little bits and putting them in his mouth, but I wasn't doing it fast enough for him so I put a few pieces in front of him on the table for him to work with...but even that wasn't good enough. He wanted a BIG piece! There was a large bit of pancake I was breaking the smaller pieces off of and before I could stop him, he swooped down and shoved the ENTIRE THING in his mouth! Of course it all crumbled to bits, so it wasn't a choking hazard...it WAS rather cute. Fortunately Laura and Mala caught the little thief on camera.





After that was the egg-hunt. I learned a lot about the savagery of children! Kids can be brutal....and, 30 waist-high munchkins can be a little scary when they’re frothing at the mouth to get at the brightly colored plastic that happens to be nestled in the grass patch in front of your feet. I was nearly knocked over in the tidal wave.

Fortunately Connor and I were able to find a quiet spot for him to pick up his very own egg.



When the hunt was over, Connor got to meet the Easter Bunny. I don't think he found the giant white bunny with the weird face charming.



Then we all retired to Gram Gram Adrienne's house for a little dancing and play.



The next day Connor got to go to his Paw Paw's house and hang out with him for a while. They had a lot of fun together.



There are a lot more pictures in my Easter Album, so feel free to check them out!

Last but not least, there is more big thing to share. Are you ready? Are you sitting? Can you bear the wait?

Connor is crawling! My little tub-o-baby-lard has finally gotten mobile. Not much...mostly just a few inches at a time. It's really more of a scrunch scoot than a crawl, but what the heck! It counts!

and of COURSE I have video evidence!

A Bad Day For Breastfeeding

As I was gathering together everything I needed for work the other day I came to a sudden, unpleasant realization. Yet another of my valves was missing. Yes, I know that sounds dirty. I am referring to THIS. A small, rubber, easily lost part of my breast pump. I have 3 pump horns (2 for use at work and 1 for home) and NOW only 1 valve to use between them. I would need to hold onto that valve very carefully until I could buy more. I finished packing my pump parts and headed off to work.

When 9am rolled around I went to the room my work has designated for me to do my pumping. A small, cramped, overly warm storage closet where I produce baby food crammed in between paint cans and boxes of computer paper. Within inches of where I sit there is a circuit box that has a dire warning label printed on the door stating that you MUST turn off ALL power before touching the box or severe injury or death WILL be the result. I keep worrying that might hand might accidentally brush it one day and bzzzt! No more me! As you might imagine, this isn't my favorite time of day. By the time I finish I am usually sweating and feel dirtier coming out than I did going in...and relieved to still be alive, of course.

As I settled into the thinly padded office chair I was able to scavenge out of a pile of chairs that were meant for donation due to the fact that they were terribly uncomfortable, I came to another unpleasant realization. When I pack my pump parts I usually pull them out of the dishwasher still wet so I wrap them in a plastic bag to keep them from dripping all over the electrical parts. Apparently the bag I had gotten that day had carried dirt or some other debris previously because ALL of my pump parts were covered in some fine, black, grainy substance.

With a sigh, I rose and carried everything into the break room kitchen and dumped it all into the sink to be re-washed. A male co-worker was there and, curious, came over to see what I was doing. He started making some remark about me having a party (he obviously mistook my bottles for cups) until he saw what was in the sink. His words dried up and he became rather nervous and uncomfortable. I would have been amused if I wasn't already so irritated.

Once my pump was clean again, I locked myself in my closet and made my ounces. I did unusually well and almost entirely filled the 4oz bottle I brought. I reached into my bag, eager to put a secure lid on all that precious, difficultly obtained milk when...oh yes, another unpleasant realization. I hadn't washed the bottle lids and it was covered in that same dirt.

I sighed. I had a dilemma. Take my pump with me to the kitchen to wash the lid or leave the pump in the closet and risk that it would somehow get tipped over in the time that I was away. My luck wasn't working very well for me thus far so I decided I should take it with me.

As I walked into the break room I saw a man...not just any man, though. A co-worker that I am inexplicably attracted to, despite his obvious inappropriateness for me....and there I was with my pump full of fresh body fluids. As I walked past him, I saw him glance at my hand but I turned it away from him so he couldn't get a good look at what I had. I set the pump down next to the water cooler on the opposite him so he couldn't see it. He smiled and greeted at me, and then to my mortified horror, stepped over to the water cooler to fill his glass. As he approached he saw what I had tried to conceal. My milky, drippy pump, sitting there like a carnival freak-show display next to the nice, clean water he had hoped to pour in his cup. The poor guy was taken off guard and obviously didn't know what to do. What he DID NOT do was get water. What he DID do was back up like he had seen a snake and apologized to me as though he had accidentally walked in on me taking off my clothes. I leapt over, grabbed my milky shame, and fled the room. Fortunately during the exchange I DID manage to rinse off my bottle cap so I was able crouch in the privacy of my closet and get everything sorted out before returning to my desk.

Noon soon crept up and it was time for me to leave and go to my daily lunch date with my son. He eats, and I'm happy just to avoid that extra session with the evil pump. Unfortunately, as I was leaving a co-worker asked for my help. I couldn't just leave and the task had me out the door 15 minutes later than usual.

I didn't TRY to make up the time by speeding, but I guess the thought of my hungry child crying at the window and wondering where his lunch mommy was made me put a little more pressure on the gas pedal than I intended. But, it's ok. A police officer was kind enough to stop me on my way and let me know that yes, in fact I WAS speeding and oh, I would have to pay a large fine for it too. Yay!

Now I was almost half an hour behind schedule and I had images of Connor's hollowed little cheeks pressed to the glass and little dried tears in the corners of his sad eyes.

But, what I found when I got there was not a starving waif, but a sleeping infant. A DEEPLY sleeping infant. The daycare told me that they tried to keep him up as long as possible but he refused to stay awake. I didn't want to wake him up so I left...surprisingly depressed that I didn't get to spend that time with him, but at least secure enough in that, since my mother would be picking him up that day, they could go ahead and feed him his afternoon bottle when he woke and she could make him a formula bottle to replace the one he'd already eaten.

Except, she COULDN'T make him that formula bottle if I left with the diaper bag that had the formula in it. I had to turn back when I was already halfway to work. I have a small dent in my face from where I slapped myself on the forhead.

Once I was back on the road and headed to the office a 2nd time, it occurred to me....I would now have to add a pumping session. Unfortunately, I didn't have an extra bottle to pump into. I couldn't just mix two bottles together to give myself an empty one because, if you remember, I almost filled that first bottle during my morning session.

I turned around again and decided I would just pump at the house and get back to work a little later...

...and I managed to get my home pump washed, put together and ALLLMOST ready to go before I realized OH! My ONE AND ONLY valve is AT WORK.

I was rather late back to work and once there, I couldn't go straight to my desk because I still had to have that lunch pumping session.

As I sat in my uncomfortable chair, sweating and trying to avoid being electrocuted I wondered...

This whole breastfeeding thing. Is it really worth it?

A Song For My Son

Oh Connor,

At this point in my life, I've done so many things wrong, I don't know if I can do right...but for you I'll try. I'm doing the best I can.

At This Point In My Life

Milestone Madness!

I've been so eager to see Connor crawl that somehow I missed that he was developing in other areas. He's had a few surprises for me this week. The first was pulling himself to his knees on the side of his crib. I realized it was time to raise the side up when I came in his room and saw him about to tumble over the edge head first.

Fortunately, not all of his surprises nearly gave me a heart attack. He's started to kiss me! He grabs my face and presses his open, drooly mouth to my cheek. It's really rather sweet! Except when he kisses me in hopes that it will convince me to give him a bite of my ice cream. Not yet baby!

Today we had a big one! He pulled himself to sitting by himself!!! He was rolling around in the floor, playing with his toys. I walked out of the room and when I walked back in he was sitting! On his butt! He loves to wait till I leave the room to do something new. I don't know what it is with that kid.

Oh, actually, there was one more. It happened last week. I was complaining to my friends how Connor seemed to prefer his Nana and the Daycare workers to me...how he preferred pretty much ANYONE he saw on a regular basis to me. I was rather put out by it. The next afternoon as I was walking into the daycare I heard him in his room fussing, working up to a full cry. The moment I rounded the corner and he saw me his whines abruptly stopped and his face split into a HUGE grin. Then, as I walked towards him, smiling myself, he raised his little arms for me to pick him up.

Oh, Connor. The moment I decide it's time to sell you to the gypsies you have to go and be all adorable and sweet. What a little tease!