We did have Thanksgiving. It was super. There were no mice. We had a grand and glorious dinner, including Terry's mom's famous stuffing made from liver. It was good, more like pate than the stuffings of my youth. Mistah C ended up holding young A throughout the end of dinner, for which I was thankful. As my grandmother always said for grace, may we all be together again next year, especially me.
We went to the vet today* where A saw his first dog, a big beautiful sweet Weimaraner, and his first Christmas tree. He did not want to stop looking at the tree, but he did for the people who would fuss over him. "Are those blue eyes?" Yah, you betcha.
I don't want to get hung up on the developmental minutae of A, largely because this is something I will find pretty easy to obsess about and that way lies madness. But here are our most recent milestones. He's laughing now (and boy, once he laughed, the whole world was a better place. Forget that every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings claptrap; it's baby laughing that births stars). He's rolled back to front and front to back and does full-arm push-ups. He's making lots of baby noises with multivowel and consonant-vowel sounds (but he's always done that). He coos along with me while I sing to him like he's trying to sing. He's got big baby grins that he used to reserve for me and C that he's starting to hand out to other people. He's pretty sweet.
* After the mouse incident, I realized I was a bad kitty guardian and as such needed to take the cats in. So yesterday they were pronounced fine and in need of dental cleanings. Niles got his today and Jake will get his in another week, poor baby. He has to be put under for it and I'm worried about that. Niles was a champ with the non-sedated cleaning today, or so the tech told me.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Monday, November 20, 2006
Action! Adventure! Girly screaming!
That's right, folks. I had myself a full-on girlie panic attack here in the household today. It's Niles' fault.
I was on the phone with Julie. While I was on the phone, I noticed my sweet white kitten paying particular attention to the right side of the refrigerator. I even went to find a flashlight to see if I saw anything unusual. I don't. Niles is rapt.
A's still sleeping when I get off the phone. I am about to sit on the couch to fold the last of Master A's laundry when Niles skulks through with a mouse in his mouth. I shriek. I yell. I don't even know what I yelled because I left my brain for a minute to yell and yell. My throat is still sore from all the yelling. (A slept right through, btw.)
Niles runs to the stairs and drops the mouse. It runs away. He catches it and looks at me with the mouse in his mouth. The mouse is wriggling. Niles is running with the guilty "I've got something good" skulk that means he's trying to get somewhere inaccessible to me as quickly as possible.
Now, it has always been a topic of postulation around these parts since our cats are unusual and ill-bred for life alone in the cruel world (not that any cat should be, but our cats are particularly ill-equipped with the pretty but unsubstantial coats), what would happen if one of them got a mouse. When I grew up, we had cats who would bring home stunned mice to train their kittens to hunt. We would inevitably find half-chewed mice later. I don't think Niles' mother taught him to hunt. This is what Niles does with a mouse: bats at the mouse, picks it up with his mouth, then puts it down again so he can run after it again.
But, back to me and my screaming. I run and get a bowl because I figure I'm going to have to catch the mouse. A bowl seems like a fine idea to me since I can slam it over the mouse and then figure out what to do. Niles takes the mouse up the stairs. He drops it a couple steps from the top and the time it takes him to pick up the mouse again gives me enough time to overtake Niles.
Now we are in the hallway at the top of the stairs. Niles has the mouse in his mouth. I think, I wonder if the mouse is still alive and the mouse blinks at me. Blinks. (I was almost tempted to use bold there, but I didn't.) Then it wriggles around and nips Niles. Niles lets go of the mouse and it runs into the corner. I'm trying to figure out how to clamp the bowl on the mouse when the mouse makes a break for it and runs the other way. Niles picks the mouse up and runs into my office with it.
My office has the activity gym for the darling baby (still strapped into his bouncy chair and sound asleep). Niles comes within a foot of the activity gym and drops the mouse. The desire to protect A's plaything is greater than my desire to trap the mouse so I flip the gym up on the futon and lose sight of the mouse.
The mouse is gone, somewhere in my office. So now I panic for real. I can't find the mouse; the baby's downstairs and I don't know if I have to take the cat to the vet. I don't know if we all need vaccines for hantavirus. I am seriously freaking out.
I call my husband and have a dickens of a time trying to even communicate that I have actually seen a mouse at close quarters. I'm incoherent enough that he takes his lunch to come home and mouse hunt with me (and talk me down). I close the office door and stuff a towel under it.
Then I call Julie back to ask for a vet's name so I can take my poor Niles in for a checkup since he's been nipped. I look carefully at Niles at this point (who is skulking by the fridge hoping for another mouse to play with) and don't see any blood but I'm still pretty panicked. Then I call the vet, whose receptionist is sure I should take my pet to the emergency room until I tell her there's no blood. Well, no blood, probably fine, don't worry about it. I make an appointment for a checkup for both cats with the vet for next week to assauge my bad-pet-guardian guilt. I put a piece of cheese in the bowl and put it in the center of the room as mouse bait. I think about rigging a Survivorman-esque stick and rock mouse trap but I have no stick.
C comes in the door just as A is waking up. He goes looking for the mouse to no avail. Every closet and room in the house is between the mouse and freedom. So he looks for the mouse point of entry and discovers none where there were before, so the mouse must have come in the garage door. Niles eats the cheese in my mouse bowl/trap.
We're about to head out for real mousetraps, so I go upstairs to get my money and find Niles investigating the towel in the doorway. I look at the towel and there's Mr. Mouse. I start yelling for C. I sound like Basil Fawlty in the fire drill episode. (Mouse! Mouse there!) He looks at me and says, "Where should I put it?" I dump out a plastic lidded container on our bed and bring it to him. He dumps the towel in and slams the lid, trapping the mouse. My hero!
We take the mouse outside to the woods and set him free. C called me later to say that we'd done a proper Sopranos warning: had our cat rough up the mouse, then let him go so he could tell his friends not to mess with us.
Now I'm tired and plenty embarrassed about behaving like a girl. But we don't have a mouse in the house so it's okay.
I was on the phone with Julie. While I was on the phone, I noticed my sweet white kitten paying particular attention to the right side of the refrigerator. I even went to find a flashlight to see if I saw anything unusual. I don't. Niles is rapt.
A's still sleeping when I get off the phone. I am about to sit on the couch to fold the last of Master A's laundry when Niles skulks through with a mouse in his mouth. I shriek. I yell. I don't even know what I yelled because I left my brain for a minute to yell and yell. My throat is still sore from all the yelling. (A slept right through, btw.)
Niles runs to the stairs and drops the mouse. It runs away. He catches it and looks at me with the mouse in his mouth. The mouse is wriggling. Niles is running with the guilty "I've got something good" skulk that means he's trying to get somewhere inaccessible to me as quickly as possible.
Now, it has always been a topic of postulation around these parts since our cats are unusual and ill-bred for life alone in the cruel world (not that any cat should be, but our cats are particularly ill-equipped with the pretty but unsubstantial coats), what would happen if one of them got a mouse. When I grew up, we had cats who would bring home stunned mice to train their kittens to hunt. We would inevitably find half-chewed mice later. I don't think Niles' mother taught him to hunt. This is what Niles does with a mouse: bats at the mouse, picks it up with his mouth, then puts it down again so he can run after it again.
But, back to me and my screaming. I run and get a bowl because I figure I'm going to have to catch the mouse. A bowl seems like a fine idea to me since I can slam it over the mouse and then figure out what to do. Niles takes the mouse up the stairs. He drops it a couple steps from the top and the time it takes him to pick up the mouse again gives me enough time to overtake Niles.
Now we are in the hallway at the top of the stairs. Niles has the mouse in his mouth. I think, I wonder if the mouse is still alive and the mouse blinks at me. Blinks. (I was almost tempted to use bold there, but I didn't.) Then it wriggles around and nips Niles. Niles lets go of the mouse and it runs into the corner. I'm trying to figure out how to clamp the bowl on the mouse when the mouse makes a break for it and runs the other way. Niles picks the mouse up and runs into my office with it.
My office has the activity gym for the darling baby (still strapped into his bouncy chair and sound asleep). Niles comes within a foot of the activity gym and drops the mouse. The desire to protect A's plaything is greater than my desire to trap the mouse so I flip the gym up on the futon and lose sight of the mouse.
The mouse is gone, somewhere in my office. So now I panic for real. I can't find the mouse; the baby's downstairs and I don't know if I have to take the cat to the vet. I don't know if we all need vaccines for hantavirus. I am seriously freaking out.
I call my husband and have a dickens of a time trying to even communicate that I have actually seen a mouse at close quarters. I'm incoherent enough that he takes his lunch to come home and mouse hunt with me (and talk me down). I close the office door and stuff a towel under it.
Then I call Julie back to ask for a vet's name so I can take my poor Niles in for a checkup since he's been nipped. I look carefully at Niles at this point (who is skulking by the fridge hoping for another mouse to play with) and don't see any blood but I'm still pretty panicked. Then I call the vet, whose receptionist is sure I should take my pet to the emergency room until I tell her there's no blood. Well, no blood, probably fine, don't worry about it. I make an appointment for a checkup for both cats with the vet for next week to assauge my bad-pet-guardian guilt. I put a piece of cheese in the bowl and put it in the center of the room as mouse bait. I think about rigging a Survivorman-esque stick and rock mouse trap but I have no stick.
C comes in the door just as A is waking up. He goes looking for the mouse to no avail. Every closet and room in the house is between the mouse and freedom. So he looks for the mouse point of entry and discovers none where there were before, so the mouse must have come in the garage door. Niles eats the cheese in my mouse bowl/trap.
We're about to head out for real mousetraps, so I go upstairs to get my money and find Niles investigating the towel in the doorway. I look at the towel and there's Mr. Mouse. I start yelling for C. I sound like Basil Fawlty in the fire drill episode. (Mouse! Mouse there!) He looks at me and says, "Where should I put it?" I dump out a plastic lidded container on our bed and bring it to him. He dumps the towel in and slams the lid, trapping the mouse. My hero!
We take the mouse outside to the woods and set him free. C called me later to say that we'd done a proper Sopranos warning: had our cat rough up the mouse, then let him go so he could tell his friends not to mess with us.
Now I'm tired and plenty embarrassed about behaving like a girl. But we don't have a mouse in the house so it's okay.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Breakthrough night
Eureka, we had a wonderful 6 hours of uninterrupted sleep last night. Yee haw! It's amazing to sleep for six hours straight.
Even more amazing, A laughed for the first time today. We were about to head out to do some shopping pre-holiday madness (too late), and in the middle of play-walking A across the back of the sofa, he laughed, an honest-to-goodness laugh. We're all thrilled here with our teeny little super guy. A baby laugh just makes the world a better place instantly.
Even more amazing, A laughed for the first time today. We were about to head out to do some shopping pre-holiday madness (too late), and in the middle of play-walking A across the back of the sofa, he laughed, an honest-to-goodness laugh. We're all thrilled here with our teeny little super guy. A baby laugh just makes the world a better place instantly.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
A shout out to Miss Julie
I wrapped up my weekend summary without mentioning how very cool Miss J is.
We went to dinner Saturday night at the Outback. Aidric wasn't happy unless someone was holding him. I called ahead for "call ahead" seating and mentioned that we would have three people plus one baby in a ar carrier who would need a sling (in this case, a glorified baggage holder for car seats).
Once we're seated, we're told there are no slings available. They offer us a high chair to put the car seat on, but being the overprotective first time parents we are, we think it's a little precarious. So we're holding A.
Mistah C takes A for a diaper change. Our waitress comes by to ask for the second or third time if we know what drinks we want yet. She's mildly huffy but still within the bounds of politeness. "Actually, we're still waiting on a sling," Miss Julie says, "since if we don't have a sling, then someone has to hold the baby and then they have no hands to eat with. So we'll be ready with our order after we get that sling."
I could have kissed her. It's exactly the kind of assertive statement with expectations made crystal clear the situation needed, and C and I were too tired to come up with expectations for anything.
Not long after that, a sling materialized. Of course, A was so fussy that he didn't want to be in the car carrier and we ended up hot potato-ing him through dinner, with Miss Julie holding him while C and I horsed down our entrees. She put him to sleep and we kept him asleep all the day home. But it was so nice for both of us to eat hot food, and it was so nice to have the baby sleep.
We went to dinner Saturday night at the Outback. Aidric wasn't happy unless someone was holding him. I called ahead for "call ahead" seating and mentioned that we would have three people plus one baby in a ar carrier who would need a sling (in this case, a glorified baggage holder for car seats).
Once we're seated, we're told there are no slings available. They offer us a high chair to put the car seat on, but being the overprotective first time parents we are, we think it's a little precarious. So we're holding A.
Mistah C takes A for a diaper change. Our waitress comes by to ask for the second or third time if we know what drinks we want yet. She's mildly huffy but still within the bounds of politeness. "Actually, we're still waiting on a sling," Miss Julie says, "since if we don't have a sling, then someone has to hold the baby and then they have no hands to eat with. So we'll be ready with our order after we get that sling."
I could have kissed her. It's exactly the kind of assertive statement with expectations made crystal clear the situation needed, and C and I were too tired to come up with expectations for anything.
Not long after that, a sling materialized. Of course, A was so fussy that he didn't want to be in the car carrier and we ended up hot potato-ing him through dinner, with Miss Julie holding him while C and I horsed down our entrees. She put him to sleep and we kept him asleep all the day home. But it was so nice for both of us to eat hot food, and it was so nice to have the baby sleep.
Four (well, three and a half) month checkup
We went to the doctor's this morning. A is sleeping off the trauma of four immunization shots (he screamed and screamed and was beet red) so I can let you know that Master A is doing great. He is 15 pounds, 14 ounces and 26 inches long, which puts him in the 75th percentile for weight and the 95th percentile for height.
The doctor thinks he's probably teething by the way he won't stop chewing on his hands, even though the teeth might not show up for months. She thinks the sleep disruption of last week was probably a growth spurt and she thinks it's okay if he's sleeping in 4-5 hour shifts still, which was somewhat of a relief to hear.
The good news is that she doesn't have a problem with us doing an international trip with him in April; in fact, she said go now because going later won't be as easy. She said the worst time to travel with him will be a year and a half since that's the point where all he'll want to do will be run around. Two, two and a half he'll be interested in things and the act of going, but one and a half it'll be all about him moving as much as possible. But she said to go now since once he's older we'll have to keep our eyes mostly on him and not on the sights.
It looks like we'll be traveling this spring. I need to read some travel books.
The doctor thinks he's probably teething by the way he won't stop chewing on his hands, even though the teeth might not show up for months. She thinks the sleep disruption of last week was probably a growth spurt and she thinks it's okay if he's sleeping in 4-5 hour shifts still, which was somewhat of a relief to hear.
The good news is that she doesn't have a problem with us doing an international trip with him in April; in fact, she said go now because going later won't be as easy. She said the worst time to travel with him will be a year and a half since that's the point where all he'll want to do will be run around. Two, two and a half he'll be interested in things and the act of going, but one and a half it'll be all about him moving as much as possible. But she said to go now since once he's older we'll have to keep our eyes mostly on him and not on the sights.
It looks like we'll be traveling this spring. I need to read some travel books.
Monday, November 13, 2006
And on the sleep...
We did get some more sleep this weekend. Saturday and Sunday we got better sleep. My darling husband let me read, shower and sleep in abandon Friday night after he got home while he watched A and played video games.
We're thinking maybe A was just overtired to the point where he couldn't get himself to sleep. He is chewing on everything and has gotten pretty drooly, so maybe there's teething going on. I don't see any teeth poking through but I'm sure teeth are annoying before they break through. We'll check with the doctor this week. Would write more but just got him to nap and I need to shower before we can go do our grand errands for the day.
We're thinking maybe A was just overtired to the point where he couldn't get himself to sleep. He is chewing on everything and has gotten pretty drooly, so maybe there's teething going on. I don't see any teeth poking through but I'm sure teeth are annoying before they break through. We'll check with the doctor this week. Would write more but just got him to nap and I need to shower before we can go do our grand errands for the day.
He rolled over!
He rolled over at two weeks, but that was apparently bad rolling over. This was proper rolling over, from belly to back. Woo hoo!
Friday, November 10, 2006
And just when you think he'd have to sleep...
We've gone since Tuesday with a horrible sleep pattern, which is not a lot of sleep. He's at three and a half months. Baby books don't help. They were written by people who obviously had no children or long enough after the children were grown so the parents were being nostalgic for a time when their children needed them every minute instead of asking to be let out of the car a block from school.
One book insists that he should be eating five (and maybe six, seven, or eight) times a day now. He's eaten five times since midnight and no, I don't think he'll only eat three more times today. Then I think maybe he's not getting enough to eat and that's why he's eating all the time. Then I take him to infant massage and get him weighed and find out he's getting close to 16 pounds. The kid is eating. He's deliciously plump. The witch from Hansel and Gretel would snap him up in a second.
Another suspect for night waking at the three-month mark is that he's just so interested in things that he's forgetting to eat and has to tank up at night. I might believe this if he wasn't eating at least every two to three hours during the day and putting on a half pound every week.
So I'm at my worst when I have absolutely no book advice to guide me or console me. We've tried keeping him up in the evening; we've tried letting him sleep. I've tried waking up and feeding him until he is absolutely running over. Nothing seems to help.
I thought maybe he was bored going just on errands with me during the day so I took him to the (world famous) zoo. We did great to start with, trotted off to see the pandas. If you haven't been (and you really should go), the pandas are in a walled-off section of the zoo with many, many signs saying, "Please keep your voices down so as not to disturb the pandas." We get to the absolute center of the panda exhibit and bam, A starts yelling. Blood-curdling, please look my mom is murdering me,the volume goes up to 11 yelling. So I apologize to the panda attendant and try to make my way out as quickly as possible with all the herds of people blocking the walkway. Thank you, clueless parents with big-ass strollers, for being so stupidly oblivious and blocking the damn ramp while I subtly change my "Excuse me" to an "Excuse you!" May I never join your ilk.
I sat and played with him out of earshot of the pandas, but the unfortunate problem is that the pandas are right in the middle of the zoo and the zoo is very hilly. So once playing was done and he was returned to the stroller, that was a lot of pushing uphill with a screaming baby, including getting splattered with bird poop in the aviary the stroller path passes through. He fell asleep not long after the bird cages that are by the koalas, for you locals or SD Zoo addicts.
I think the worst part is that now he's found his voice and boy can he yell. I haven't placed blame for this on one side of the family or the other (yet) since both sides can fairly lay claim to a good throaty yelling ability. But if the sleeplessness goes on much longer I'm going to lay the blame with the ILs. We're seeing the pediatrician next week for his (ersatz) four-month check up and so hopefully she'll have some advice.
Three months does seem to be the "lights on, someone's home" part of babydom, though. He's just gotten so outgoing and talkative that it's fun when it's not 2AM. He sings along with me when I sing at him while I change his diaper. He's cooing and smiling a lot. Right now he is desperately trying to sit up from a recline on my lap. Everything is going in his mouth nowadays, so he's got that down too. This weekend we'll have to go get him some clothes since he's rapidly approaching the weight limits of most of his 6-month sized stuff.
One book insists that he should be eating five (and maybe six, seven, or eight) times a day now. He's eaten five times since midnight and no, I don't think he'll only eat three more times today. Then I think maybe he's not getting enough to eat and that's why he's eating all the time. Then I take him to infant massage and get him weighed and find out he's getting close to 16 pounds. The kid is eating. He's deliciously plump. The witch from Hansel and Gretel would snap him up in a second.
Another suspect for night waking at the three-month mark is that he's just so interested in things that he's forgetting to eat and has to tank up at night. I might believe this if he wasn't eating at least every two to three hours during the day and putting on a half pound every week.
So I'm at my worst when I have absolutely no book advice to guide me or console me. We've tried keeping him up in the evening; we've tried letting him sleep. I've tried waking up and feeding him until he is absolutely running over. Nothing seems to help.
I thought maybe he was bored going just on errands with me during the day so I took him to the (world famous) zoo. We did great to start with, trotted off to see the pandas. If you haven't been (and you really should go), the pandas are in a walled-off section of the zoo with many, many signs saying, "Please keep your voices down so as not to disturb the pandas." We get to the absolute center of the panda exhibit and bam, A starts yelling. Blood-curdling, please look my mom is murdering me,the volume goes up to 11 yelling. So I apologize to the panda attendant and try to make my way out as quickly as possible with all the herds of people blocking the walkway. Thank you, clueless parents with big-ass strollers, for being so stupidly oblivious and blocking the damn ramp while I subtly change my "Excuse me" to an "Excuse you!" May I never join your ilk.
I sat and played with him out of earshot of the pandas, but the unfortunate problem is that the pandas are right in the middle of the zoo and the zoo is very hilly. So once playing was done and he was returned to the stroller, that was a lot of pushing uphill with a screaming baby, including getting splattered with bird poop in the aviary the stroller path passes through. He fell asleep not long after the bird cages that are by the koalas, for you locals or SD Zoo addicts.
I think the worst part is that now he's found his voice and boy can he yell. I haven't placed blame for this on one side of the family or the other (yet) since both sides can fairly lay claim to a good throaty yelling ability. But if the sleeplessness goes on much longer I'm going to lay the blame with the ILs. We're seeing the pediatrician next week for his (ersatz) four-month check up and so hopefully she'll have some advice.
Three months does seem to be the "lights on, someone's home" part of babydom, though. He's just gotten so outgoing and talkative that it's fun when it's not 2AM. He sings along with me when I sing at him while I change his diaper. He's cooing and smiling a lot. Right now he is desperately trying to sit up from a recline on my lap. Everything is going in his mouth nowadays, so he's got that down too. This weekend we'll have to go get him some clothes since he's rapidly approaching the weight limits of most of his 6-month sized stuff.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Wow, long time, no update
Random notes here before I fill out my absentee ballot and vote. I took a quiz to tell me what kind of accent I have and yes, I am from the Northeast.
We had no trick or treaters for Halloween. We had a boy in a cute tiger costume but it was too hot for him to wear all evening. I may still take him for professional pictures in his costume for his three month picture.
Master A is at 15 pounds and change at the last weigh-in (Friday), not bad for three months. He is huge. Huge! I'm glad we finally got the crib set up. He likes it a lot more than the basinette, probably because we don't have a bumper on it so he can see out of the crib easily. The mobile is interesting to him, as are the various toys we've got in the crib for him to look at. He's getting more self-amusing, which is good.
We had our Bradley class reunion Friday night. It was fun to see everyone and all the babies. I don't think any of them were as cute as our own, but I've been told he's extraordinarily beautiful. Oh, and I'm biased. Mistah A slept through the group baby pictures, probably so as not to blind the other parents with his gorgeous blue eyes (still no sign of changing, btw). He's so sweet that way.
Chocolate fountains are not good potluck food, just in case anyone wants my opinion.
| What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Northeast Judging by how you talk you are probably from north Jersey, New York City, Connecticut or Rhode Island. Chances are, if you are from New York City (and not those other places) people would probably be able to tell if they actually heard you speak. | |
| Philadelphia | |
| The Inland North | |
| The Midland | |
| Boston | |
We had no trick or treaters for Halloween. We had a boy in a cute tiger costume but it was too hot for him to wear all evening. I may still take him for professional pictures in his costume for his three month picture.
Master A is at 15 pounds and change at the last weigh-in (Friday), not bad for three months. He is huge. Huge! I'm glad we finally got the crib set up. He likes it a lot more than the basinette, probably because we don't have a bumper on it so he can see out of the crib easily. The mobile is interesting to him, as are the various toys we've got in the crib for him to look at. He's getting more self-amusing, which is good.
We had our Bradley class reunion Friday night. It was fun to see everyone and all the babies. I don't think any of them were as cute as our own, but I've been told he's extraordinarily beautiful. Oh, and I'm biased. Mistah A slept through the group baby pictures, probably so as not to blind the other parents with his gorgeous blue eyes (still no sign of changing, btw). He's so sweet that way.
Chocolate fountains are not good potluck food, just in case anyone wants my opinion.
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