Today I made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies that just so happened to be hot out of the oven when Ada got home from daycare. Being the smart little girl I taught her to be, she instantly smelled them, walked into the kitchen, looked up to me with her most powerful puppy-dog-eyes and said, "Cookie?". She even pulled out the sign language sign for cookie to make sure that I understood her clearly. How can you say no to that? And how much can one little cookie hurt?
Of course I gave her a cookie. So what if it was before dinner? It would have been hypocritical not to give her one since I had just eaten three spoonfuls of cookie dough before she got home. And I don't believe in denying her the joys of life, of which I firmly believe oatmeal chocolate chip cookies are near the top of the list.
The problem came when her cookie was gone. "Cookie?", again accompanied by the sign for a cookie, was supposed to be Ada's key to happiness. You can only imagine her shock, sadness, and the depth of her pouty lip as it protruded from her face when I said "No more cookies until after we eat dinner." It was clearly written all over her face that she didn't understand why she couldn't have another cookie. Surely there were plenty since I had baked over three dozen and they were right there on the counter. Trying to explain to a toddler that cookies aren't necessarily classified as a "health food" is a whole different matter. Needless to say, she was not happy.
Moral of the story: Guiding your children to make healthy choices in life is tough. Limiting their cookie intake might prove to be outright impossible.
Showing posts with label eating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eating. Show all posts
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Thank You
Thank you to Rick for evicting Iain from our room so we'd sleep better...when in reality I just ended up on the couch most of the night and got less sleep than before. He meant well... or wanted the bed to himself... or maybe he was just looking for a 2am cuddle session with Ada since Iain woke her up from his new bunk in the dining room outside her door.
Thank you to Rick, again, for putting my cell phone right next to the bed with an alarm set for 8 am to make sure I got up in time to get Ada off to daycare. Too bad he set it for 8 pm instead and didn't turn it on quiet mode. Ada saved me by coming into our room at 7:50 anyway so I was up before 8am... and 8pm for that matter.
Which brings me to thank Grandma DD for calling my cell phone next to the bed at 7:07 am out of concern that I needed something since I called her twice last night and didn't leave a message. She couldn't have known I had finally gotten Iain calm, quiet and sleeping right next to me on the bed when the phone blared. And what would have suggested that a new mom would be sleeping at 7 am anyway? That's crazy talk! (Sorry for cursing at you DD...)
And while I'm being thankful... thank you to the garbage truck that woke us up two days ago by driving down the alley at 6:30 am while we had the windows open to catch a breeze on the only non-humid day in a month. Thanks again to the garbage truck for repeatedly banging the dumpsters to get them thoroughly emptied out and stirring up their stench so that it would waft downwind, into our bedroom window as the sweet smell of rotting refuse. Not only were we left deaf from the banging, but we had no desire to breath through our noses ever again.
Thanks also go to Rick for running late, and to Iain for deciding to eat right when it was time for me to go to knitting night on Monday. I got to knitting 45 minutes late, ate dinner while nursing Iain again, and didn't even get my knitting project out of the bag before it was time to go home.
Thanks to Iain again last night, while I was out to dinner with friends, for crying for 45 minutes straight before Rick had to tell me to come home to help. Iain only managed to distract Rick enough to overcook Ada's dinner to the point of ruin and cause him to miss her overflowing poopy diaper and its ensuing rash. Poor Ada. Fixing the wrath of that diaper became my first priority and was plenty good punishment for trying to have another night out. If the garbage truck didn't make me permanently deaf, Ada's screams just might have done the trick.
And, what the heck, I might as well thank a few more places... to Piece pizza restaurant for being too busy to accommodate my little family for our friend Bob's birthday dinner on a Friday night during a torrential downpour. To that same storm for closing our local Stella's Diner on Saturday morning with water damage and preventing me from having my current favorite breakfast meal including a chocolate shake and a hobo skillet. Then I give thanks to our new favorite burger bar, DMK Burger, for also being too busy to host our family on a Saturday night. And finally, to Chalam Balam, the local tapas place, for being closed on Tuesday nights after I had talked it up to my friends and was craving the sangria.
Moral of the story: You can always find things to be thankful for... especially when you use sarcasm.
Thank you to Rick, again, for putting my cell phone right next to the bed with an alarm set for 8 am to make sure I got up in time to get Ada off to daycare. Too bad he set it for 8 pm instead and didn't turn it on quiet mode. Ada saved me by coming into our room at 7:50 anyway so I was up before 8am... and 8pm for that matter.
Which brings me to thank Grandma DD for calling my cell phone next to the bed at 7:07 am out of concern that I needed something since I called her twice last night and didn't leave a message. She couldn't have known I had finally gotten Iain calm, quiet and sleeping right next to me on the bed when the phone blared. And what would have suggested that a new mom would be sleeping at 7 am anyway? That's crazy talk! (Sorry for cursing at you DD...)
And while I'm being thankful... thank you to the garbage truck that woke us up two days ago by driving down the alley at 6:30 am while we had the windows open to catch a breeze on the only non-humid day in a month. Thanks again to the garbage truck for repeatedly banging the dumpsters to get them thoroughly emptied out and stirring up their stench so that it would waft downwind, into our bedroom window as the sweet smell of rotting refuse. Not only were we left deaf from the banging, but we had no desire to breath through our noses ever again.
Thanks also go to Rick for running late, and to Iain for deciding to eat right when it was time for me to go to knitting night on Monday. I got to knitting 45 minutes late, ate dinner while nursing Iain again, and didn't even get my knitting project out of the bag before it was time to go home.
Thanks to Iain again last night, while I was out to dinner with friends, for crying for 45 minutes straight before Rick had to tell me to come home to help. Iain only managed to distract Rick enough to overcook Ada's dinner to the point of ruin and cause him to miss her overflowing poopy diaper and its ensuing rash. Poor Ada. Fixing the wrath of that diaper became my first priority and was plenty good punishment for trying to have another night out. If the garbage truck didn't make me permanently deaf, Ada's screams just might have done the trick.
And, what the heck, I might as well thank a few more places... to Piece pizza restaurant for being too busy to accommodate my little family for our friend Bob's birthday dinner on a Friday night during a torrential downpour. To that same storm for closing our local Stella's Diner on Saturday morning with water damage and preventing me from having my current favorite breakfast meal including a chocolate shake and a hobo skillet. Then I give thanks to our new favorite burger bar, DMK Burger, for also being too busy to host our family on a Saturday night. And finally, to Chalam Balam, the local tapas place, for being closed on Tuesday nights after I had talked it up to my friends and was craving the sangria.
Moral of the story: You can always find things to be thankful for... especially when you use sarcasm.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
A Pillow, Kisses, & Chocolate Chips
Ada's the best. Last night, she knew I was exhausted from a long day at work and my body just wasn't playing nicely with the BB in my belly. As I sat on the couch, curled up with a good book, trying to relax the day away, Rick attended to my every need and managed to get Ada fed, entertained, cleaned, and medicated. Poor guy had to get me water and tea and pillows and a blanket and surely a few more things I can't even remember. While he was in the kitchen, busily cleaning out the dishwasher, Ada slipped out from under his watch long enough to come to the living room and smoother me with kisses. Normally she'll give out kisses when she is prompted. This time she was attacking me with wet, sloppy, toddler cootie kisses. I think she gave me 20 kisses without me even asking for one. She must have sensed that I needed some love. It was so sweet.
Then, about fifteen minutes later, Rick was busy doing laundry in the bedroom or some other chore at the back of the house when she returned to my side with a pillow from her bed. She'd seen Rick bring me pillows to prop up my back and legs and wanted to make sure I had enough of them to be comfortable. Can you say adorable?
And then, this is the best part, she magically appeared by my side -- well after her bedtime at this point --with a small Ziploc container of trail mix that included peanuts, raisins, and a ton of chocolate chips (which I am currently eating by the handful from a 72 oz re-sealable bag I have conveniently stored on a shelf in the refrigerator. This is one craving I am not going to complain about). I open the container for her and we share the goodies. She's eating the mix pretty fast and I'm trying to figure out if she is favoring the chocolate chips or the raisins or eating all three equally. Part of me is worried that she is just picking out the chocolate chips since that's just not acceptable (I only have 65 oz left in the fridge for Pete's sake kid, lay off momma's stash!). I'm about to tell her to stop hogging all of the chocolate when she turns to me and starts feeding me the chocolate chips. One, two, three chocolate chips go down the hatch and I'm laughing so hard at this point that I have to call Rick over to explain that she is a total enabler, mind reader, and way too cute for words. All my aches and pains instantly faded away at that moment. Maybe it was her gentle way with me, or the chocolate, or the laughter, or the knock out combination of it all, but I sure felt better.
Moral of the story: Sometimes kids do the cutest things. Store those memories in a special place and revisit them often.
Then, about fifteen minutes later, Rick was busy doing laundry in the bedroom or some other chore at the back of the house when she returned to my side with a pillow from her bed. She'd seen Rick bring me pillows to prop up my back and legs and wanted to make sure I had enough of them to be comfortable. Can you say adorable?
And then, this is the best part, she magically appeared by my side -- well after her bedtime at this point --with a small Ziploc container of trail mix that included peanuts, raisins, and a ton of chocolate chips (which I am currently eating by the handful from a 72 oz re-sealable bag I have conveniently stored on a shelf in the refrigerator. This is one craving I am not going to complain about). I open the container for her and we share the goodies. She's eating the mix pretty fast and I'm trying to figure out if she is favoring the chocolate chips or the raisins or eating all three equally. Part of me is worried that she is just picking out the chocolate chips since that's just not acceptable (I only have 65 oz left in the fridge for Pete's sake kid, lay off momma's stash!). I'm about to tell her to stop hogging all of the chocolate when she turns to me and starts feeding me the chocolate chips. One, two, three chocolate chips go down the hatch and I'm laughing so hard at this point that I have to call Rick over to explain that she is a total enabler, mind reader, and way too cute for words. All my aches and pains instantly faded away at that moment. Maybe it was her gentle way with me, or the chocolate, or the laughter, or the knock out combination of it all, but I sure felt better.
Moral of the story: Sometimes kids do the cutest things. Store those memories in a special place and revisit them often.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Eating at the Table
In a recent attempt to enjoy a nice breakfast out on a Saturday morning, Ada ruined it by acting up and being obnoxious during our meal. We were forced, out of embarrassment and a desire to not ruin the ambiance for the rest of the restaurant's diners, to get to go bags and bolt out of there. On the way home we broke down theories as to why Ada can't sit and behave when we are out to eat. We don't go very often for that very reason and always try to find family friendly establishments that won't scowl at us during the entire meal.
Rick's theory is that she doesn't have to sit down at the table at home to eat, so we haven't really set her up for success. Now we are trying to have meals at the dining room table as much as possible, which turns out to be really difficult. It's better for me to eat meals with her at her 6 pm dinner time instead of 8 or 9 with Rick, but it isn't as easy to get both meals hot and ready to go at the same or similar time. I'm feeling more and more like a short order cook these days. And to make matters worse, I don't know how to sit at the table with a two year old and enjoy a quiet dinner. She isn't chatting me up while we eat and I'm such a multi-tasker that it pains me to sit still, in silence, and watch her eat. I'm now getting really creative with our dinner conversations about the color of her foods and what she's eating and advising her on better ways to hold her spoon for less spillage down her chest. I'll admit, if Wheel of Fortune happens to be on during dinner, I'm not feeling too guilty for shifting her to the side of the table that has a view of the TV and using the contestants' letter choices as a learning too. Sometimes that's all my brain can handle after a long day at work. And she loves it when the puzzle gets solved and the contestants all clap. If only Pat Sajak would sing the alphabet at the end of the show...
Another theory is, in a restaurant full of strangers, Ada's in the spotlight. Being the social butterfly that she is, a meal out is her time to preform and she won't be confined to her seat. She's better when it isn't just Rick and I, as there are other people at the table for her to entertain. But when it is just the two of us, she can't wait to get out of the booth and work the room. In off times with tolerant fellow diners, that isn't as much of an issue. During the Saturday morning rush with hot coffee and distracted waitresses moving at the speed of light, it doesn't work so well. A fellow mom suggested we try distracting her with a bag of goodies and her favorite toys since the standard restaurant crayons and placemat aren't enough. We also try to order her food first and have it come out early so she has something to do while we wait.
Moral of the story: Mealtimes aren't easy and enjoying them at restaurants is even harder. Be prepared and know that you might just have to take it "to go".
Rick's theory is that she doesn't have to sit down at the table at home to eat, so we haven't really set her up for success. Now we are trying to have meals at the dining room table as much as possible, which turns out to be really difficult. It's better for me to eat meals with her at her 6 pm dinner time instead of 8 or 9 with Rick, but it isn't as easy to get both meals hot and ready to go at the same or similar time. I'm feeling more and more like a short order cook these days. And to make matters worse, I don't know how to sit at the table with a two year old and enjoy a quiet dinner. She isn't chatting me up while we eat and I'm such a multi-tasker that it pains me to sit still, in silence, and watch her eat. I'm now getting really creative with our dinner conversations about the color of her foods and what she's eating and advising her on better ways to hold her spoon for less spillage down her chest. I'll admit, if Wheel of Fortune happens to be on during dinner, I'm not feeling too guilty for shifting her to the side of the table that has a view of the TV and using the contestants' letter choices as a learning too. Sometimes that's all my brain can handle after a long day at work. And she loves it when the puzzle gets solved and the contestants all clap. If only Pat Sajak would sing the alphabet at the end of the show...
Another theory is, in a restaurant full of strangers, Ada's in the spotlight. Being the social butterfly that she is, a meal out is her time to preform and she won't be confined to her seat. She's better when it isn't just Rick and I, as there are other people at the table for her to entertain. But when it is just the two of us, she can't wait to get out of the booth and work the room. In off times with tolerant fellow diners, that isn't as much of an issue. During the Saturday morning rush with hot coffee and distracted waitresses moving at the speed of light, it doesn't work so well. A fellow mom suggested we try distracting her with a bag of goodies and her favorite toys since the standard restaurant crayons and placemat aren't enough. We also try to order her food first and have it come out early so she has something to do while we wait.
Moral of the story: Mealtimes aren't easy and enjoying them at restaurants is even harder. Be prepared and know that you might just have to take it "to go".
Weird, Funny, Annoying and Disgusting
Weird, funny, annoying and disgusting things Ada has done this week:
Disgusting: I tossed the leftover frosting from a chocolate cake I had eaten the night before into our garbage can and used the side of the can to scrape off the fork. All was fine until Ada threw something away, saw the frosting and decided to have some--from the side of the garbage bag. I freaked out and quickly scrubbed her down and took the garbage out. Yuck.
Funny: On our walk home from day care on Thursday, we got to the corner by our house when Ada started screaming and pointing across the street. She's in a pointing phase now to communicate what she wants. And a bossy phase, but I digress. I waited for the street light to change and took her across the street only to have her walk up to the door of the ice cream shop and demand that I take her inside for a scoop. She must have been channeling a craving from BB in the belly because we all walked away happy. Oddly enough, we hadn't been to the ice cream shop in months due to my heartburn and crazy diet.
Weird: While on a walk yesterday, Ada picked up a small stick to carry. It wore out from her bending and swinging it so we quickly found another, more interesting stick with a good place to hold on to and several arching branches. She enjoyed it all the way around the block until we met up with a dog, I think he was a boxer, and he traded Ada a few kisses for the stick -- and then he devoured it. She found one final stick in front of our house and decided to bring it inside, and put it in her mouth just like the dog did. I washed it off, and her off, and now we have a pet stick.
Disgusting: I tossed the leftover frosting from a chocolate cake I had eaten the night before into our garbage can and used the side of the can to scrape off the fork. All was fine until Ada threw something away, saw the frosting and decided to have some--from the side of the garbage bag. I freaked out and quickly scrubbed her down and took the garbage out. Yuck.
Funny: On our walk home from day care on Thursday, we got to the corner by our house when Ada started screaming and pointing across the street. She's in a pointing phase now to communicate what she wants. And a bossy phase, but I digress. I waited for the street light to change and took her across the street only to have her walk up to the door of the ice cream shop and demand that I take her inside for a scoop. She must have been channeling a craving from BB in the belly because we all walked away happy. Oddly enough, we hadn't been to the ice cream shop in months due to my heartburn and crazy diet.
Weird: While on a walk yesterday, Ada picked up a small stick to carry. It wore out from her bending and swinging it so we quickly found another, more interesting stick with a good place to hold on to and several arching branches. She enjoyed it all the way around the block until we met up with a dog, I think he was a boxer, and he traded Ada a few kisses for the stick -- and then he devoured it. She found one final stick in front of our house and decided to bring it inside, and put it in her mouth just like the dog did. I washed it off, and her off, and now we have a pet stick.
Annoying: At nap time yesterday, I missed her "sleepy window" in order to feed her lunch. I should have just put her down and let her eat later but hindsight is 20/20. She refused to nap and when I thought she would just play quietly in her room, I laid down on the couch for a mini siesta myself. Twenty minutes later I awoke to her pink unicorn rocking horse on a repeat loop from hell "I'm a magical unicorn, I'm a, I'm a, I'm a magical unicorn..." as she kept pushing the button over and over and over, never letting it cycle through the whole song. I reacted like a grumpy bear by storming into her room, grabbing the unicorn by the handle at the side of its head and swinging it out of her room and into the hallway. GRRR. Then I gave up and let her lay on the couch with me until I woke up more properly five minutes later.
Weird: When I put her down for bed the other night, she refused to get into her toddler bed and insisted upon sleeping on the floor. She pulled down her pillow and blanket, grabbed her stuffed animals and laid down. At that point, I was too exhausted to care. I did warn Rick when he went in to get her the next morning not to step on her and sure enough, she was still lying on the floor in the middle of the room.
Funny: We had friends over for a BBQ last weekend and I cleaned the long mirror in our bedroom of all of the handprints at Ada's height. I didn't bother to clean the upper half of the mirror since I was cutting corners and knew it wasn't that dirty--after all, we don't eat a banana and then go dance in front of the mirror with sticky hands. When I looked at the mirror from an angle the next day, it was clear to see that I hadn't wiped the top down as it had a fine layer of dust adhered to the glass. Oops. At least we can see our legs and shoes clearly when we get dressed in the mornings.
Annoying: Trying to keep Ada from ruining things around the house is no easy task. Last week she was playing with the fireplace tools and I was fine with her using the broom tool since it was still new and had never been used. Then she moved on to the log grabber and scooted it across the cream part of the rug, revealing to me that it had indeed been used and was covered in black soot. That game ended fast and she is now banned from all touching of anything fireplace related. At least the soot came out with a little elbow grease and upholstery cleaner.
More Annoying: I'm a hawk about her and crayons as I've heard several horror stories of crayons and walls and all other surfaces really. She got crayon on her Easter dress and Grandma Ba miraculously got it all out. This time, she had the white crayon in hand and stroked it on the brown part of the rug before I could stop her (what are the odds?). I'll get around to cleaning that up this weekend hopefully.
Weird: She likes to taste the nuts in a trail mix and licks the ones she doesn't like, then leaves them on the floor or the table for you to throw away later. She also likes to dip french fries in ketchup or a sauce and then licks the sauce off and leaves the french fry on your plate. She's still a work in progress.
More Weird: Last night at dinner she poured salt onto the table from the shaker and then licked the table.
Disgusting: With her cough induced asthma, she's been throwing up a lot lately. That itself is gross. But the smell it leaves in your car even after you scrub the car seat is even worse.
Funny: In an attempt to make a cheese sauce for dinner to accompany a baked potato and steamed broccoli, I had a stick of butter in its wrapper sitting out on the counter. Ada grabbed it and took a bite out of it, through the packaging. I later found the chunk she spit it out lying on the floor. At least she didn't eat it.
Moral of the story: Each day that goes by with a child brings more surprises than you could ever imagine.
Monday, May 3, 2010
The A & W Band
We had a BBQ this past weekend and our friends' son Will came over to entertain Ada. Somehow he found her drum set and they ended up forming a band. "The Purple Baby Doll" could be in the running for a band name as it is Will's all time favorite of Ada's toys. 
We might have to recruit a few more kids from the neighborhood unless this is just going to be a percussion band... we'll see. They've got some time to develop their talents. They didn't have time to focus on dinner though. Too much to do and see and play with. Eating is overrated apparently.
We might have to recruit a few more kids from the neighborhood unless this is just going to be a percussion band... we'll see. They've got some time to develop their talents. They didn't have time to focus on dinner though. Too much to do and see and play with. Eating is overrated apparently.Moral of the story: The loudest toys are always the first to be found by playmates.
Friday, April 2, 2010
The Day Care Update
Five weeks in and we are getting encouraging reports from Ada's new day care.
The Good:
She's fitting in. She gets along well and participates in all of the activities.
She behaves well, isn't using her high-pitched squealing voice anymore, except on the indoor play area where they think she gets a little overwhelmed and excited.
She's a good eater.
It seems like drop offs and pick-ups are a bit less dramatic. Still the occasional screaming fit and the "Mommy/Daddy don't go", but we are seeing improvement.
The Bad:
She isn't really napping for very long. Maybe thirty minutes, maybe more or less depending on the day.
Her use of a big girl cup instead of a sippy cup is improving, but could be better. Same with her fork and spoon.
Somehow, she keeps blowing out her diapers during nap time. I don't understand how this is even possible since she only naps for a few minutes, but she's coming home in backup pants more frequently.
In my quest to learn more about how she is acting at day care and if they are having the same issues with diaper changes and overall whineyness that I'm having at home, I wrote a little note hoping they could answer some of my concerns. Ms. Monica, her main caretaker, took time to write back in detail and was very encouraging. Her biggest concern is the whole napping thing, or resistance to napping to be more precise. I'm trying to come up with new solutions and tricks we can try to remedy that little issue so we'll see how it goes.
I'm also trying to figure out how to change her or clean her up before I take her home for the night. Thursday, when I picked her up, I got her outside just as I realized she had a poopy diaper. Since I'm five blocks from home and coming straight from work, I never have diapers or wipes on me. I'm thinking I'll try two things. One, always check her diaper before we leave the building and ask to change it if needed. And two, putting a small bag of wipes and a few backup diapers in her bag in case we run an errand straight from day care and need to make a change along the way. I'm also going to have to just accept the fact that I should always have a small container of wipes in my purse for all of their many uses. They really do come in handy.
Moral of the story: Transitioning into a day care routine isn't easy, but can be made easier through good communication and being on the same page.
The Good:
She's fitting in. She gets along well and participates in all of the activities.
She behaves well, isn't using her high-pitched squealing voice anymore, except on the indoor play area where they think she gets a little overwhelmed and excited.
She's a good eater.
It seems like drop offs and pick-ups are a bit less dramatic. Still the occasional screaming fit and the "Mommy/Daddy don't go", but we are seeing improvement.
The Bad:
She isn't really napping for very long. Maybe thirty minutes, maybe more or less depending on the day.
Her use of a big girl cup instead of a sippy cup is improving, but could be better. Same with her fork and spoon.
Somehow, she keeps blowing out her diapers during nap time. I don't understand how this is even possible since she only naps for a few minutes, but she's coming home in backup pants more frequently.
In my quest to learn more about how she is acting at day care and if they are having the same issues with diaper changes and overall whineyness that I'm having at home, I wrote a little note hoping they could answer some of my concerns. Ms. Monica, her main caretaker, took time to write back in detail and was very encouraging. Her biggest concern is the whole napping thing, or resistance to napping to be more precise. I'm trying to come up with new solutions and tricks we can try to remedy that little issue so we'll see how it goes.
I'm also trying to figure out how to change her or clean her up before I take her home for the night. Thursday, when I picked her up, I got her outside just as I realized she had a poopy diaper. Since I'm five blocks from home and coming straight from work, I never have diapers or wipes on me. I'm thinking I'll try two things. One, always check her diaper before we leave the building and ask to change it if needed. And two, putting a small bag of wipes and a few backup diapers in her bag in case we run an errand straight from day care and need to make a change along the way. I'm also going to have to just accept the fact that I should always have a small container of wipes in my purse for all of their many uses. They really do come in handy.
Moral of the story: Transitioning into a day care routine isn't easy, but can be made easier through good communication and being on the same page.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Tantrums in the City
The worst part about Ada acting up and getting fussy in the city is the number of people around to witness it. The population here is so much more dense that chances are, you aren't going to have a fussy spell go unnoticed. It's hard enough being embarrassed by your child as they scream in the middle of a restaurant or on the sidewalk, but it's even worse when you have, what feels like, a million people watching you.
After the tantrum Ada just threw at our neighborhood Noodles and Company, I feel like I need to go back in and apologize to all of their patrons for ruining their lunch atmosphere. She used to be so good about sitting quietly and eating her lunch. She would use the fork and drop her mac and cheese onto her lap occasionally but it was okay and manageable. In the beginning, she would feed herself almost the whole meal and have me load up the fork for the last few bites. Each time we've gone since, the time she feeds herself has gotten shorter and the time I have to load her fork for her, longer. Today that translated into her taking four bites herself and then passing the fork to me. Being the mom who wants to foster independence in her child, and who wants to eat her own food at some point within the next hour, this didn't bode well with me. When Ada passed me her fork, I passed it back to her and encouraged her to eat her food. She started to cry, loudly. I took her food away and she cried even more. Then I offered it to her to try again, and she still cried. We repeated this process again with no luck. At that point, in a public place, I just give up. It was time to pack it up to go and deal with her at home. In comes the calm breathing techniques I practice at yoga. Very handy for staying calm as I packed up our lunch.
On the way out, with her screams echoing throughout the restaurant, I got a few sympathy looks, but I think most people tend to side with Ada and give you the stink eye as in, "What did you do to that adorable child to make her so sad? You must be a mean mommy." I find myself wanting to explain that it isn't my fault, or at least I hope it isn't something I'm doing wrong, but there is never time for that and it is really none of their business. Her screams were so embarrassing that I no longer have any desire to take her back to Noodles until she is old enough to eat the whole plate of food on her own, with her fork. So for now, I have to live in a sheltered box and can't take my daughter out in public for fear that she just can't behave. That's the phase we've entered. It's awesome.
Luckily, I have hope. My friend Jen just happened to give me an extra copy of The Happiest Toddler on the Block. Can anyone guess what I'll be reading this weekend?
My goals for the next few weeks are to figure out solutions to many of Ada's most recent fussy triggers including:
Diaper Changes -
She won't sit down for them anymore and fights them like crazy. Diaper rash could be causing an association with painful diaper changes? Or maybe she's allergic to the wipes they use at daycare and they sting?
Getting Dressed -
She hates taking her shirts off and putting a new one back on. Maybe because her noggin gets caught in the neck of the shirt and she hates being stuck? We've tried taking them off more slowly and doing one arm at a time. Now I'm going to try putting her in polo style shirts that have a few neck buttons to make that process easier.
Hand Washing -
This is a new challenge. Maybe the water was too hot at some point and now she fears being burned? I can't get her to put her hands under the faucet on her own.
Coming into the House -
When we get to the front porch, the crying starts and continues all the way up the steps, through both vestibule doors and into the house. She is either exhausted and cranky from all of the fun we had while we were out or doesn't want the fun to end. I just want the whining to end.
I think that's enough to start with. We'll just have to see how it goes, maybe set up a meeting with her day care providers to see if they have ideas or notice similar issues, and take it one day at a time. In the meantime, I'm just going to keep eating cookies and brownies to cope since that's what the little boy in my belly is telling me to do, and I tend to agree with him a lot these days.
Moral of the story: Your child can't always be an angel, but you can keep trying and hopefully prevent them from becoming too much of a devil.
After the tantrum Ada just threw at our neighborhood Noodles and Company, I feel like I need to go back in and apologize to all of their patrons for ruining their lunch atmosphere. She used to be so good about sitting quietly and eating her lunch. She would use the fork and drop her mac and cheese onto her lap occasionally but it was okay and manageable. In the beginning, she would feed herself almost the whole meal and have me load up the fork for the last few bites. Each time we've gone since, the time she feeds herself has gotten shorter and the time I have to load her fork for her, longer. Today that translated into her taking four bites herself and then passing the fork to me. Being the mom who wants to foster independence in her child, and who wants to eat her own food at some point within the next hour, this didn't bode well with me. When Ada passed me her fork, I passed it back to her and encouraged her to eat her food. She started to cry, loudly. I took her food away and she cried even more. Then I offered it to her to try again, and she still cried. We repeated this process again with no luck. At that point, in a public place, I just give up. It was time to pack it up to go and deal with her at home. In comes the calm breathing techniques I practice at yoga. Very handy for staying calm as I packed up our lunch.
On the way out, with her screams echoing throughout the restaurant, I got a few sympathy looks, but I think most people tend to side with Ada and give you the stink eye as in, "What did you do to that adorable child to make her so sad? You must be a mean mommy." I find myself wanting to explain that it isn't my fault, or at least I hope it isn't something I'm doing wrong, but there is never time for that and it is really none of their business. Her screams were so embarrassing that I no longer have any desire to take her back to Noodles until she is old enough to eat the whole plate of food on her own, with her fork. So for now, I have to live in a sheltered box and can't take my daughter out in public for fear that she just can't behave. That's the phase we've entered. It's awesome.
Luckily, I have hope. My friend Jen just happened to give me an extra copy of The Happiest Toddler on the Block. Can anyone guess what I'll be reading this weekend?
My goals for the next few weeks are to figure out solutions to many of Ada's most recent fussy triggers including:
Diaper Changes -
She won't sit down for them anymore and fights them like crazy. Diaper rash could be causing an association with painful diaper changes? Or maybe she's allergic to the wipes they use at daycare and they sting?
Getting Dressed -
She hates taking her shirts off and putting a new one back on. Maybe because her noggin gets caught in the neck of the shirt and she hates being stuck? We've tried taking them off more slowly and doing one arm at a time. Now I'm going to try putting her in polo style shirts that have a few neck buttons to make that process easier.
Hand Washing -
This is a new challenge. Maybe the water was too hot at some point and now she fears being burned? I can't get her to put her hands under the faucet on her own.
Coming into the House -
When we get to the front porch, the crying starts and continues all the way up the steps, through both vestibule doors and into the house. She is either exhausted and cranky from all of the fun we had while we were out or doesn't want the fun to end. I just want the whining to end.
I think that's enough to start with. We'll just have to see how it goes, maybe set up a meeting with her day care providers to see if they have ideas or notice similar issues, and take it one day at a time. In the meantime, I'm just going to keep eating cookies and brownies to cope since that's what the little boy in my belly is telling me to do, and I tend to agree with him a lot these days.
Moral of the story: Your child can't always be an angel, but you can keep trying and hopefully prevent them from becoming too much of a devil.
Monday, March 15, 2010
The Longest Week Ever
Ada survived day care week two.
I almost killed Rick on Wednesday though...
You see, Rick dropped Ada off at day care in the car since he was driving to a client meeting, and he forgot that I'd be walking Ada home so he didn't leave a stroller at day care for me to do so. I easily could have made the same mistake so I wasn't so much mad at Rick but at the fact that it is six blocks between our house and day care and at the end of the day there is no energy left in Ada's little body to make the trek home on her own. At five months pregnant, with her being 35 pounds and me having herniated discs in my neck, carrying her is NOT an option. I've never wanted to hire a stranger to carry her home so badly in my life (or hers).
In an effort to break up the walk, I decided to take her three blocks to dinner and then four blocks home. That might have worked well but... the ladies at daycare didn't notice her bag on her hook at nap time (her hook changed at some point this week so there was some confusion) which contained our new strategy to encourage Ada to take naps. The bag held not one, but two secret weapons: her bug blanket and her stuffed piggy. Without these comfort measures on her cot, there was no way she was going to nap.
Result: I picked up a cranky, unrested, hungry, exhausted child, with no stroller, six blocks from home.
We started toward the restaurant and encountered a series of fits. She hollered and cried as I tried to sing and encourage her. She'd cut me off and say "up, up" with outstretched arms. I'd crouch down to her level to explain yet again how I can't carry her and it was just a little further. People were staring, their eyes burning me with feelings of judgement as my daughter goes screaming down the sidewalk as I pull her along. After two blocks, I potato sack her over my shoulder hoping that is a low stress way to carry her since putting her on my hip only works for about four or five steps and makes we worry about hurting the baby in the belly. I made it about twenty steps to the corner and put her back down to be distracted by the sliding doors at Walgreens. We eventually made it to the restaurant, ordered dinner, and went to the bathroom to wash up. She cried while I ordered and paid and a nice employee tried to entertain her with a page of stickers and paper but she wasn't having it. She was too crabby by that point and there was no turning back. Once at the table I went to get water and get settled into a booth. Somehow, over a distance of about eight feet, Ada managed to clobber her jaw against the corner of a table and got a bruise on her jawline, causing even more of a scene as she cried from real pain. She was fine during dinner, but the walk home was pretty bad. Again, I had random people stopping to tell her not to cry. She threw a good size tantrum on the sidewalk at one point. And finally I found a trick that worked and motivated her. A new game I call "Do you see a puppy? Let's go find a puppy!" She still broke down every half block since the dogs out being walked were all hiding within a block of our house but it finally paid off once we got to that block and she got to pet four dogs within 100 feet. And I got to commiserate with parents strolling down the street with two infants hoping their children wouldn't throw street tantrums like Ada. I just looked at them and said "Naps are your friend, and strollers are a must."
Moral of the story: ALWAYS have a stroller, or someone--preferably that you know-- who can carry your child a decent distance, with you at all times. Consider keeping an umbrella stroller in the trunk of the car for bad parking days too.
I almost killed Rick on Wednesday though...
You see, Rick dropped Ada off at day care in the car since he was driving to a client meeting, and he forgot that I'd be walking Ada home so he didn't leave a stroller at day care for me to do so. I easily could have made the same mistake so I wasn't so much mad at Rick but at the fact that it is six blocks between our house and day care and at the end of the day there is no energy left in Ada's little body to make the trek home on her own. At five months pregnant, with her being 35 pounds and me having herniated discs in my neck, carrying her is NOT an option. I've never wanted to hire a stranger to carry her home so badly in my life (or hers).
In an effort to break up the walk, I decided to take her three blocks to dinner and then four blocks home. That might have worked well but... the ladies at daycare didn't notice her bag on her hook at nap time (her hook changed at some point this week so there was some confusion) which contained our new strategy to encourage Ada to take naps. The bag held not one, but two secret weapons: her bug blanket and her stuffed piggy. Without these comfort measures on her cot, there was no way she was going to nap.
Result: I picked up a cranky, unrested, hungry, exhausted child, with no stroller, six blocks from home.
We started toward the restaurant and encountered a series of fits. She hollered and cried as I tried to sing and encourage her. She'd cut me off and say "up, up" with outstretched arms. I'd crouch down to her level to explain yet again how I can't carry her and it was just a little further. People were staring, their eyes burning me with feelings of judgement as my daughter goes screaming down the sidewalk as I pull her along. After two blocks, I potato sack her over my shoulder hoping that is a low stress way to carry her since putting her on my hip only works for about four or five steps and makes we worry about hurting the baby in the belly. I made it about twenty steps to the corner and put her back down to be distracted by the sliding doors at Walgreens. We eventually made it to the restaurant, ordered dinner, and went to the bathroom to wash up. She cried while I ordered and paid and a nice employee tried to entertain her with a page of stickers and paper but she wasn't having it. She was too crabby by that point and there was no turning back. Once at the table I went to get water and get settled into a booth. Somehow, over a distance of about eight feet, Ada managed to clobber her jaw against the corner of a table and got a bruise on her jawline, causing even more of a scene as she cried from real pain. She was fine during dinner, but the walk home was pretty bad. Again, I had random people stopping to tell her not to cry. She threw a good size tantrum on the sidewalk at one point. And finally I found a trick that worked and motivated her. A new game I call "Do you see a puppy? Let's go find a puppy!" She still broke down every half block since the dogs out being walked were all hiding within a block of our house but it finally paid off once we got to that block and she got to pet four dogs within 100 feet. And I got to commiserate with parents strolling down the street with two infants hoping their children wouldn't throw street tantrums like Ada. I just looked at them and said "Naps are your friend, and strollers are a must."
Moral of the story: ALWAYS have a stroller, or someone--preferably that you know-- who can carry your child a decent distance, with you at all times. Consider keeping an umbrella stroller in the trunk of the car for bad parking days too.
Monday, February 22, 2010
A day of weird moments
Yesterday contained a few weird moments. That's the best way for me to describe it. See for yourselves.
First off, we started the day with brunch and learned that two of our most awesome friends are expecting their first child this year. Yeah! I couldn't be more excited as they are going to be AWESOME parents! Totally took me by surprise.
At brunch, we tried a new place that just happens to be a big deal in Chicago. Lou Mitchell's on Jackson. You walk in and get a powdered covered donut from the hostess. Then you get a mini halloween-size box of milk duds when you are seated. You order and they bring you a prune and an orange wedge in a small bowl. Food comes and you're happy. Then they offer you a tiny cup of ice cream to send you off on your day with a smile. Ada got crayons to play with of course. The weird part was... as we go to pay with our credit card, we learned it was cash only. Not a big deal, just another weird shocker since this is a large restaurant that is busy and doesn't deal with credit cards. They save on the credit card fees, and make a killing on the ATM fee commissions they must be getting from the ATM by the door. But they can do that, because the food is good, the service is fast, it's a friendly atmosphere, and you get tons of fun goodies. All surprising in a good way.
Then, our desktop computer hasn't been loading correctly so I've been getting the "Windows death screen" as I call it. You know the one where the computer starts up and just stays on the start up screen. The little load bar keeps going and going, and then it stops to fake you out and make you think it's going to continue to start up the computer, but it doesn't. This annoyed me so much that I have been nagging Rick for the past three days to fix it as I was desperate to get it back up and running. I really depend on this thing as it turns out.
In an act of brilliance, Rick was able to fix it yesterday and all is now well with the world. Ah...
Then last night, as we were playing a new board game I'm kind of obsessed with called Settlers of Catan, a bowl that my friend Anne passed down to me about 2 or 3 weeks ago, just jumped off the counter in the kitchen, taking another bowl with it, and one of them shattered all over the kitchen floor. I haven't found a home in the kitchen for this set of 5, now 4, bowls and made the mistake of stacking them on a pile of produce still in their plastic bags from the store and over time, or maybe the spin cycle of the laundry machine on the other side of the wall, they became dislodged and plunged to the floor. Ada really wanted to go walk all over the mess while barefoot but we, mean and evil parents that we are, forbid her from walking in the kitchen. So mean...
As the day is nearing its end, we decide that maybe we are hungry since it's 8:45 and we had brunch at 10ish, then lunch at 3ish, and maybe it was time to eat something. I grabbed a bag of pretzels and hummus to tide us over until we could order something and upon opening the bag I discovered, what is that?, my little one-inch-tall karate man figurine that used to sit on the computer desk. As I'm laughing hysterically, my friend Bob looks at me like I'm a nut. Yes, I am a nut... But I'm laughing because Ada stuck the little karate guy into the pretzel bag last week when we were having pretzels and hummus for a snack on the couch. She cracks me up!
Still hungry at 9:30, Rick calls our good ol' standby for last minute dinner, Ceasars. It's a block away and the food is always ready in ten minutes or less. We can always count on Ceasars to save us, until 10pm when they close the kitchen. Rick calls and no one answers. He calls again, no answer. It's so close that he decides to just run over and order and bring it back. Thirty seconds after he leaves, my phone rings. Ceasars is closed on Sundays. Duh. We're going to just have to go to bed hungry. What's weird about that? We've lived here for over three years now and I can think of only two other instances where we've ordered on a Sunday and they've been closed. I think they are open on Sundays in the summer. Just not winter. Oh well.
Moral of the story: Life is totally unpredictable. Just roll with it.
First off, we started the day with brunch and learned that two of our most awesome friends are expecting their first child this year. Yeah! I couldn't be more excited as they are going to be AWESOME parents! Totally took me by surprise.
At brunch, we tried a new place that just happens to be a big deal in Chicago. Lou Mitchell's on Jackson. You walk in and get a powdered covered donut from the hostess. Then you get a mini halloween-size box of milk duds when you are seated. You order and they bring you a prune and an orange wedge in a small bowl. Food comes and you're happy. Then they offer you a tiny cup of ice cream to send you off on your day with a smile. Ada got crayons to play with of course. The weird part was... as we go to pay with our credit card, we learned it was cash only. Not a big deal, just another weird shocker since this is a large restaurant that is busy and doesn't deal with credit cards. They save on the credit card fees, and make a killing on the ATM fee commissions they must be getting from the ATM by the door. But they can do that, because the food is good, the service is fast, it's a friendly atmosphere, and you get tons of fun goodies. All surprising in a good way.
Then, our desktop computer hasn't been loading correctly so I've been getting the "Windows death screen" as I call it. You know the one where the computer starts up and just stays on the start up screen. The little load bar keeps going and going, and then it stops to fake you out and make you think it's going to continue to start up the computer, but it doesn't. This annoyed me so much that I have been nagging Rick for the past three days to fix it as I was desperate to get it back up and running. I really depend on this thing as it turns out.
In an act of brilliance, Rick was able to fix it yesterday and all is now well with the world. Ah...
Then last night, as we were playing a new board game I'm kind of obsessed with called Settlers of Catan, a bowl that my friend Anne passed down to me about 2 or 3 weeks ago, just jumped off the counter in the kitchen, taking another bowl with it, and one of them shattered all over the kitchen floor. I haven't found a home in the kitchen for this set of 5, now 4, bowls and made the mistake of stacking them on a pile of produce still in their plastic bags from the store and over time, or maybe the spin cycle of the laundry machine on the other side of the wall, they became dislodged and plunged to the floor. Ada really wanted to go walk all over the mess while barefoot but we, mean and evil parents that we are, forbid her from walking in the kitchen. So mean...
As the day is nearing its end, we decide that maybe we are hungry since it's 8:45 and we had brunch at 10ish, then lunch at 3ish, and maybe it was time to eat something. I grabbed a bag of pretzels and hummus to tide us over until we could order something and upon opening the bag I discovered, what is that?, my little one-inch-tall karate man figurine that used to sit on the computer desk. As I'm laughing hysterically, my friend Bob looks at me like I'm a nut. Yes, I am a nut... But I'm laughing because Ada stuck the little karate guy into the pretzel bag last week when we were having pretzels and hummus for a snack on the couch. She cracks me up!
Still hungry at 9:30, Rick calls our good ol' standby for last minute dinner, Ceasars. It's a block away and the food is always ready in ten minutes or less. We can always count on Ceasars to save us, until 10pm when they close the kitchen. Rick calls and no one answers. He calls again, no answer. It's so close that he decides to just run over and order and bring it back. Thirty seconds after he leaves, my phone rings. Ceasars is closed on Sundays. Duh. We're going to just have to go to bed hungry. What's weird about that? We've lived here for over three years now and I can think of only two other instances where we've ordered on a Sunday and they've been closed. I think they are open on Sundays in the summer. Just not winter. Oh well.
Moral of the story: Life is totally unpredictable. Just roll with it.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Awake at 4 am?
Why am I up?
No, seriously. It's almost 6 am now and I've been up writing since sometime after four am since I can't sleep...likely due to heartburn and upset stomach from trying out a new menu for dinner (curry chicken that was a bit more spicy than I'm used to), eating too late, or topping dinner off with five Oreos and a glass of milk. Hmmm... all good culprits.
My Doctoress wants me to gain more weight since pregnant people should also be fat people, I guess. I'm eating, just not like I did before I had the flu. And I'm trying to eat healthier since it makes me feel better...and my cooking lessons' friend Sarah told me to try a more Alkaline diet to reduce the acid in my system so I'm giving it a shot. Or I'm trying it until the Oreos I urged Rick to make a special trip to the store for call out my name and force themselves down my throat with a glass of milk -- turns out sugar and dairy products are acidic once processed and top the list of diet "no nos". I try to justify them by telling myself they will fatten me up and make my Doctoress happy, but that backfires when I feel sick and yo-yo back to not eating anything but bananas and carrots for a few meals to get back to a happy place in my tummy.
Which brings me to a mini soapbox... upon which I must stand to say... to everyone out there who is treating their ailments with all of these fancy-named pharmaceuticals instead of altering their diets... tisk, tisk. Sure it might be tough to follow a more strict diet and forgo things you love or reduce them, and I know it is just so easy to fork over some cash for a cute little magic pill that makes it all better... but seriously. Do some research to see if food could be the source of your issues (high cholesterol, blood pressure or heartburn--hint hint) on what slight adjustments you can make to your diet to make your body a little more happy. And consider going to see a dietitian or a natural healer for recommendations. I'm not suggesting you cleanse or give up all things that make you happy, but instead fill your diet with things that will make you feel good and accentuate them with things that make you happy. Life needs balance to be happy and little magic pills don't count on my "happiness scale" in this case.
That said, no more Oreos and/or milk/ice cream for at least two weeks, and then only in moderation. (Can someone please come eat the last row in the bag?) No more eating after 9 pm. No more burgers and fries -- 20% burger and fries + 80% alkaline foods(fruits/veggies). Yes to feeling better and hopefully, gaining weight from healthy food sources. Wish me luck!
Moral of the story: Everything in moderation, unless "everything" just happens to be bad for you. Think 80% good stuff, 20% bad stuff, and do your best to stick to it.
No, seriously. It's almost 6 am now and I've been up writing since sometime after four am since I can't sleep...likely due to heartburn and upset stomach from trying out a new menu for dinner (curry chicken that was a bit more spicy than I'm used to), eating too late, or topping dinner off with five Oreos and a glass of milk. Hmmm... all good culprits.
My Doctoress wants me to gain more weight since pregnant people should also be fat people, I guess. I'm eating, just not like I did before I had the flu. And I'm trying to eat healthier since it makes me feel better...and my cooking lessons' friend Sarah told me to try a more Alkaline diet to reduce the acid in my system so I'm giving it a shot. Or I'm trying it until the Oreos I urged Rick to make a special trip to the store for call out my name and force themselves down my throat with a glass of milk -- turns out sugar and dairy products are acidic once processed and top the list of diet "no nos". I try to justify them by telling myself they will fatten me up and make my Doctoress happy, but that backfires when I feel sick and yo-yo back to not eating anything but bananas and carrots for a few meals to get back to a happy place in my tummy.
Which brings me to a mini soapbox... upon which I must stand to say... to everyone out there who is treating their ailments with all of these fancy-named pharmaceuticals instead of altering their diets... tisk, tisk. Sure it might be tough to follow a more strict diet and forgo things you love or reduce them, and I know it is just so easy to fork over some cash for a cute little magic pill that makes it all better... but seriously. Do some research to see if food could be the source of your issues (high cholesterol, blood pressure or heartburn--hint hint) on what slight adjustments you can make to your diet to make your body a little more happy. And consider going to see a dietitian or a natural healer for recommendations. I'm not suggesting you cleanse or give up all things that make you happy, but instead fill your diet with things that will make you feel good and accentuate them with things that make you happy. Life needs balance to be happy and little magic pills don't count on my "happiness scale" in this case.
That said, no more Oreos and/or milk/ice cream for at least two weeks, and then only in moderation. (Can someone please come eat the last row in the bag?) No more eating after 9 pm. No more burgers and fries -- 20% burger and fries + 80% alkaline foods(fruits/veggies). Yes to feeling better and hopefully, gaining weight from healthy food sources. Wish me luck!
Moral of the story: Everything in moderation, unless "everything" just happens to be bad for you. Think 80% good stuff, 20% bad stuff, and do your best to stick to it.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
The $100 Pea
First off, Ada's fine.
That's a rule in my house that has been passed down from my mom. As long as you tell her her kids are okay, she'll listen to you. And if you are a police officer at the front door, she'll drill you until it is clear her children and husband are fine, then let you talk. So, Ada's fine...
But...
At dinner Monday night while I was out enjoying pre-natal yoga and Dad was on duty, Ada stuck several peas up her nose. "Several" being 6 6hat we know of. Rick removed five. He thinks she re-inserted two when he wasn't looking, and one is still there. I came home to find Ada watching a movie, the couch cushions on the floor with it's covers removed, and a husband saying "Ada's fine...but..."
Not only did she stick peas up her nose- and a carrot, she also had loose stools that caused not one, but two accidents. Rick just happened to put her on his lap or pick her up both times, resulting in his need to change clothes twice as well. Ada beats him for the most wardrobe changes since her shirt got wet when Rick splashed water in her eyes to try to get the pepper out of them. He was using the pepper near her nose to try to make her sneeze the pea out, but it somehow ended up in her eye and, well, that didn't go so well either.
I got to call our Doctoress who recommended the ER--it's 8;30 pm mind you. She was worried about the wet environment of the nose. If it was her ear, she could wait until morning. So, off to the ER. I got to wear one of those attractive face masks since I'm pregnant and it's flu season. Yeah. Ada thought that was awesome. The ER doctoress tried to remove the pea with no luck. She called an Ear Nose & Throat specialist who said to leave it alone and see him in the morning. "As long as it isn't a battery, and she's breathing fine, it can stay in there overnight." Too bad that wasn't our doctoress' advice or we'd still have our $100 copay.
So, we came home hoping that the pea would fall out overnight and prevent us from having to see the ENT in Skokie and scheduling a "surgery" to have it removed on Friday. Lucky for us all, while changing her this morning, the pea fell out of her pajamas and onto the bathroom floor. Yeah!
Now we just have to keep her from having a repeat performance.
Moral of the story: Kids stick stuff up their noses. As long as it isn't a battery and they can still breath and act normally, it probably isn't an emergency.
That's a rule in my house that has been passed down from my mom. As long as you tell her her kids are okay, she'll listen to you. And if you are a police officer at the front door, she'll drill you until it is clear her children and husband are fine, then let you talk. So, Ada's fine...
But...
At dinner Monday night while I was out enjoying pre-natal yoga and Dad was on duty, Ada stuck several peas up her nose. "Several" being 6 6hat we know of. Rick removed five. He thinks she re-inserted two when he wasn't looking, and one is still there. I came home to find Ada watching a movie, the couch cushions on the floor with it's covers removed, and a husband saying "Ada's fine...but..."
Not only did she stick peas up her nose- and a carrot, she also had loose stools that caused not one, but two accidents. Rick just happened to put her on his lap or pick her up both times, resulting in his need to change clothes twice as well. Ada beats him for the most wardrobe changes since her shirt got wet when Rick splashed water in her eyes to try to get the pepper out of them. He was using the pepper near her nose to try to make her sneeze the pea out, but it somehow ended up in her eye and, well, that didn't go so well either.
I got to call our Doctoress who recommended the ER--it's 8;30 pm mind you. She was worried about the wet environment of the nose. If it was her ear, she could wait until morning. So, off to the ER. I got to wear one of those attractive face masks since I'm pregnant and it's flu season. Yeah. Ada thought that was awesome. The ER doctoress tried to remove the pea with no luck. She called an Ear Nose & Throat specialist who said to leave it alone and see him in the morning. "As long as it isn't a battery, and she's breathing fine, it can stay in there overnight." Too bad that wasn't our doctoress' advice or we'd still have our $100 copay.
So, we came home hoping that the pea would fall out overnight and prevent us from having to see the ENT in Skokie and scheduling a "surgery" to have it removed on Friday. Lucky for us all, while changing her this morning, the pea fell out of her pajamas and onto the bathroom floor. Yeah!
Now we just have to keep her from having a repeat performance.
Moral of the story: Kids stick stuff up their noses. As long as it isn't a battery and they can still breath and act normally, it probably isn't an emergency.
Monday, November 30, 2009
What? Then who's legs are these?
As we were leaving a local restaurant after brunch yesterday, Ada got a bit confused.
I was trying to hustle us outside since the place was filling up, Ada was getting impatient and unruly, and the woman who was seated next to us was rudely complaining to her friend about how Ada was screaming in her ear. (I hope she doesn't have kids anytime soon.) On the parental scale of a child being bad, Ada was at a 4 or 5 out of 10, with 10 being the worst. If this woman was annoyed by a 4/5, then she shouldn't even be babysitting or walking near playgrounds. Yikes.
So we are shuffling out of the diner to get Ada and the stroller through, my favorite, the double vestibule doors. Before we got to the stroller, which we so obnoxiously parked by the front door and the hostess stand in a semi-out-of-the-way-but-not-really spot, Ada decided she didn't want to stay with me but wanted to run ahead with Daddy. That's all fine until she ran directly up to some random guy standing by the front door and bear hugged his legs, clearly thinking it was Rick. The gig was up when she then looked over at the stroller next to her and saw Rick working to pack all of her toys, sippy cup, and leftovers into the bottom basket. He said the look on her face when she realised, "If you're over there, who's legs am I holding on to?" was priceless.
Thankfully, the guy just laughed it off and quickly moved further into the restaurant to give us a wide berth with which to maneuver the stroller and shuffle Ada out the door. Of course, since Ada was daddy crazed, getting the stroller through those doors and out the front steps fell to me. And luckily, there was a nice gentleman outside with a four-year old shar pei puppy named "Chai" willing to distract and entertain Ada while Rick got the stroller set for our trek back home.
Moral of the story: Kids are unpredictable. If you plan to eat out, try to go during off-peak hours as a courtesy to the restaurant and neighboring patrons. They might not all be in love with how "cute" your kid is. You'll learn what places are "kid friendly" pretty quickly and save the rest for the rare, and often elusive, date night.
I was trying to hustle us outside since the place was filling up, Ada was getting impatient and unruly, and the woman who was seated next to us was rudely complaining to her friend about how Ada was screaming in her ear. (I hope she doesn't have kids anytime soon.) On the parental scale of a child being bad, Ada was at a 4 or 5 out of 10, with 10 being the worst. If this woman was annoyed by a 4/5, then she shouldn't even be babysitting or walking near playgrounds. Yikes.
So we are shuffling out of the diner to get Ada and the stroller through, my favorite, the double vestibule doors. Before we got to the stroller, which we so obnoxiously parked by the front door and the hostess stand in a semi-out-of-the-way-but-not-really spot, Ada decided she didn't want to stay with me but wanted to run ahead with Daddy. That's all fine until she ran directly up to some random guy standing by the front door and bear hugged his legs, clearly thinking it was Rick. The gig was up when she then looked over at the stroller next to her and saw Rick working to pack all of her toys, sippy cup, and leftovers into the bottom basket. He said the look on her face when she realised, "If you're over there, who's legs am I holding on to?" was priceless.
Thankfully, the guy just laughed it off and quickly moved further into the restaurant to give us a wide berth with which to maneuver the stroller and shuffle Ada out the door. Of course, since Ada was daddy crazed, getting the stroller through those doors and out the front steps fell to me. And luckily, there was a nice gentleman outside with a four-year old shar pei puppy named "Chai" willing to distract and entertain Ada while Rick got the stroller set for our trek back home.
Moral of the story: Kids are unpredictable. If you plan to eat out, try to go during off-peak hours as a courtesy to the restaurant and neighboring patrons. They might not all be in love with how "cute" your kid is. You'll learn what places are "kid friendly" pretty quickly and save the rest for the rare, and often elusive, date night.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
My Friday Before Dinner
It's Friday. I've invited my college buddies over for dinner and what started out as just us and my friend Bob for dinner, turned into us three, Bob, Vern, Cara, Alex, Kim, Ted, Alison and Will. Sweet. We tend to have trouble finding time when we can all get together and this impromptu thing ended up working out really well.
Knowing that I can't cook, I arranged to order pizza and have it arrive about 6:45. Everyone planned to arrive around 6:30 or 7 and that seemed like as good a plan as any. We've learned from past dinners that if we don't pre-order, we starve while waiting for the food and then don't have time to play a game afterward, which is really what this is all about. Having fun with old friends, and playing games.
I had a few errands to run before picking Ada up so I left work at 4:30. I went to the ATM, then went to a different bank to make a deposit for the condo association. I have two letters in my hand that I need to mail. Previously, when making the condo association bank deposit, I though I had inadvertently put the envelope I keep the ATM card in, into the mail drop box with a bill I was mailing then. That resulted in me being distracted and telling the story about just how I'd lost the card when Ada fell down the back porch stairs. Yikes. Don't want a repeat of that. (It turns out that the ATM card was in an envelope on the kitchen counter the whole time.)
This time, I again have letters to mail so I crossed the street to deposit two bills into a postal drop box and re-crossed the street to be on the south side for the entry to the El train home. As I'm waiting for the light, it dawns on me that I can't remember where I put the ATM card. The light turns in my favor and I cross the street while quickly, not frantically but concernedly, digging in my purse for the ATM card envelope. I know it's there. I just can't find it under all of the crap I have. Why do I have a sippy cup, a diaper, wipes, and goldfish snacks in here? How the heck am I supposed to find...SMACK!
Oh no I didn't. Oh yes you did.
While intensely focusing on the contents of my purse, I continued to walk toward the El station and completely lost all awareness of my surroundings and walked straight into...wait for it...A BUS SHELTER. Thunk. My calf, knee and head all connected with the advertising side of the small structure.
"Oh My God. I did not just do that", I think.
"Oh yes I did." I start laughing uncontrollably. Then I realize, "What if there is someone waiting for a bus? They must think I'm an idiot."
I peer around the corner of the shelter. Yep. Hi there. In my head I'm saying, "That was me who just walked into the side of this place. Sorry about that. Hope I didn't startle you but damn, that's funny." In reality, I shot her a quick glance with the biggest smile on my face and quickly continued on my way down the street. Laughing to myself and at myself the whole way to the El train. Then I laughed even more as I sent my friend Colette a text retelling the event.
But that's not all.
I got Ada, got home and all but forgot about the previous "incident", putting it in my back pocket for a funny story later on. It was time I focus on cleaning up the last bits of things that are out of place and feeding Ada before everyone starts to arrive.
All is going well. I've done the dishes and she helped me put them away - which I encouraged as I quickly grabbed each glass plate and dish she handed to me from the bottom rack of the dishwasher. Boy was that nerve-wracking but she insisted on helping.
Ada is eating. I'm settled in to watch some Grey's Anatomy on ABC.com (since we don't have cable). I've supplied Ada with a gourmet dinner of bagel, goldfish crackers, graham crackers, turkey, and apple sauce. And I've just dumped out our old milk and given her a full cup of milk that tasted okay to me but is on it's last day as well. Why does our milk seem to go bad so quickly these days? I text Rick to have him pick up new milk since our friend Bob is coming over and that man drinks more milk than anyone I've ever seen in my entire life. Multiple gallons in a week. He could have been a dairy cow in another life.
All is well in the world. Rick comes home and greets us. He removes his winter coat (yes, I know it's early October!) and settles in next to us to see what is going on. I have two minutes left on Grey's Anatomy and friends will be arriving anytime now. Ada's finishing up dinner and... then... it starts. As we are sitting around all content with the world, Ada starts throwing up her entire dinner. At first, we think she's just choking on something and is going to spit it out. Then it keeps coming up, and up, and up. She has expelled everything in her stomach. All over herself, the highchair, the floor. Everywhere.
"It must have been the milk. I didn't think it was 'bad' but it clearly wasn't 'good'. Let's clean her up." I mutter as I take her to the bathroom while holding her at arms length, hoping to stay clean.
She is, by this time, hysterical. Screaming. Not quite sure what the heck is going on or why she has her dinner all over her body. I've got her in the tub and she won't let me take her vomit covered shirt off. I'm tugging, she's resisting. Finally I win and get her naked. I turn on the shower and start to spray her down. She's still hysterical.
"Screw it." I think to myself as she reaches out to me, wet, naked, and covered in her regurgitated dinner. She crawls out of the tub and into my fully-clothed, dry clothes and clean arms and cries. I get her to calm down a bit and then decide to join her in the shower to comfort her and get her cleaned up. So what if I have 8 people coming over for dinner in just a matter of minutes. They are such good friends, I practically consider them family.
I'm in the shower with her when I hear the first door buzzer. At least Rick's home to let people in. I'm shampooing her hair for the second buzz. We are rinsing off for the third tone. And we are standing naked, dripping wet and trying to towel off when the pizza arrives. Thankfully I set out money for the pizza guy ahead of time and Bob took care of it all. My kind of house guests.
I passed Ada out to Rick so he could get her dressed again. Then I quickly shuffle around the hall corner to my bedroom to get decent. A quick glance in the mirror reveals that my mascara has run, but overall my makeup is salvageable and my hair isn't too wet. Five minutes and a whole new outfit later, I'm dishing up pizza and enjoying friends.
About an hour later, I remember that good old bus shelter incident and decide it's a great time to share one of my most "blonde" moments ever as tears of laughter gush from my eyes.
Good times had by all.
Moral of the story: The best friends are those that can help themselves and love you just the way you are. And those that laugh with you instead of at you. Just keep laughing at yourself.
Parenting rule to live by: When in doubt, throw it out.
Knowing that I can't cook, I arranged to order pizza and have it arrive about 6:45. Everyone planned to arrive around 6:30 or 7 and that seemed like as good a plan as any. We've learned from past dinners that if we don't pre-order, we starve while waiting for the food and then don't have time to play a game afterward, which is really what this is all about. Having fun with old friends, and playing games.
I had a few errands to run before picking Ada up so I left work at 4:30. I went to the ATM, then went to a different bank to make a deposit for the condo association. I have two letters in my hand that I need to mail. Previously, when making the condo association bank deposit, I though I had inadvertently put the envelope I keep the ATM card in, into the mail drop box with a bill I was mailing then. That resulted in me being distracted and telling the story about just how I'd lost the card when Ada fell down the back porch stairs. Yikes. Don't want a repeat of that. (It turns out that the ATM card was in an envelope on the kitchen counter the whole time.)
This time, I again have letters to mail so I crossed the street to deposit two bills into a postal drop box and re-crossed the street to be on the south side for the entry to the El train home. As I'm waiting for the light, it dawns on me that I can't remember where I put the ATM card. The light turns in my favor and I cross the street while quickly, not frantically but concernedly, digging in my purse for the ATM card envelope. I know it's there. I just can't find it under all of the crap I have. Why do I have a sippy cup, a diaper, wipes, and goldfish snacks in here? How the heck am I supposed to find...SMACK!
Oh no I didn't. Oh yes you did.
While intensely focusing on the contents of my purse, I continued to walk toward the El station and completely lost all awareness of my surroundings and walked straight into...wait for it...A BUS SHELTER. Thunk. My calf, knee and head all connected with the advertising side of the small structure.
"Oh My God. I did not just do that", I think.
"Oh yes I did." I start laughing uncontrollably. Then I realize, "What if there is someone waiting for a bus? They must think I'm an idiot."
I peer around the corner of the shelter. Yep. Hi there. In my head I'm saying, "That was me who just walked into the side of this place. Sorry about that. Hope I didn't startle you but damn, that's funny." In reality, I shot her a quick glance with the biggest smile on my face and quickly continued on my way down the street. Laughing to myself and at myself the whole way to the El train. Then I laughed even more as I sent my friend Colette a text retelling the event.
But that's not all.
I got Ada, got home and all but forgot about the previous "incident", putting it in my back pocket for a funny story later on. It was time I focus on cleaning up the last bits of things that are out of place and feeding Ada before everyone starts to arrive.
All is going well. I've done the dishes and she helped me put them away - which I encouraged as I quickly grabbed each glass plate and dish she handed to me from the bottom rack of the dishwasher. Boy was that nerve-wracking but she insisted on helping.
Ada is eating. I'm settled in to watch some Grey's Anatomy on ABC.com (since we don't have cable). I've supplied Ada with a gourmet dinner of bagel, goldfish crackers, graham crackers, turkey, and apple sauce. And I've just dumped out our old milk and given her a full cup of milk that tasted okay to me but is on it's last day as well. Why does our milk seem to go bad so quickly these days? I text Rick to have him pick up new milk since our friend Bob is coming over and that man drinks more milk than anyone I've ever seen in my entire life. Multiple gallons in a week. He could have been a dairy cow in another life.
All is well in the world. Rick comes home and greets us. He removes his winter coat (yes, I know it's early October!) and settles in next to us to see what is going on. I have two minutes left on Grey's Anatomy and friends will be arriving anytime now. Ada's finishing up dinner and... then... it starts. As we are sitting around all content with the world, Ada starts throwing up her entire dinner. At first, we think she's just choking on something and is going to spit it out. Then it keeps coming up, and up, and up. She has expelled everything in her stomach. All over herself, the highchair, the floor. Everywhere.
"It must have been the milk. I didn't think it was 'bad' but it clearly wasn't 'good'. Let's clean her up." I mutter as I take her to the bathroom while holding her at arms length, hoping to stay clean.
She is, by this time, hysterical. Screaming. Not quite sure what the heck is going on or why she has her dinner all over her body. I've got her in the tub and she won't let me take her vomit covered shirt off. I'm tugging, she's resisting. Finally I win and get her naked. I turn on the shower and start to spray her down. She's still hysterical.
"Screw it." I think to myself as she reaches out to me, wet, naked, and covered in her regurgitated dinner. She crawls out of the tub and into my fully-clothed, dry clothes and clean arms and cries. I get her to calm down a bit and then decide to join her in the shower to comfort her and get her cleaned up. So what if I have 8 people coming over for dinner in just a matter of minutes. They are such good friends, I practically consider them family.
I'm in the shower with her when I hear the first door buzzer. At least Rick's home to let people in. I'm shampooing her hair for the second buzz. We are rinsing off for the third tone. And we are standing naked, dripping wet and trying to towel off when the pizza arrives. Thankfully I set out money for the pizza guy ahead of time and Bob took care of it all. My kind of house guests.
I passed Ada out to Rick so he could get her dressed again. Then I quickly shuffle around the hall corner to my bedroom to get decent. A quick glance in the mirror reveals that my mascara has run, but overall my makeup is salvageable and my hair isn't too wet. Five minutes and a whole new outfit later, I'm dishing up pizza and enjoying friends.
About an hour later, I remember that good old bus shelter incident and decide it's a great time to share one of my most "blonde" moments ever as tears of laughter gush from my eyes.
Good times had by all.
Moral of the story: The best friends are those that can help themselves and love you just the way you are. And those that laugh with you instead of at you. Just keep laughing at yourself.
Parenting rule to live by: When in doubt, throw it out.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Don't worry, they're all natural
This past weekend, my beautiful friend Lisa invited my family to dinner for some of her fabulous home cooking. As Lisa was sprinkling her magic fairy dust in the kitchen, Ada was having fun tormenting Lisa's bulldog, Monty, since he gets so excited to see her he just wants to plow her over. She's big, but he's bigger--by about 20 lbs and I think she's 6 or 8 months older. Funny how dogs and kids grow so fast, until you compare them and then the dogs win.
We let them play together through the baby gate and then moved Monty to his crate for some quiet time. All was going just great and it was time for Monty to get a treat, and of course, what could be more fun than for Ada to give it to him?
Unfortunately, Ada doesn't really get the whole idea of giving treats to a dog since we don't have one and she isn't around my parents dogs all that often. As soon as Lisa said "Here Ada, give Monty a treat." I knew the treat wasn't going to make it to Monty. I just knew it.
Sure enough, Lisa broke it in two. Gave half to Monty and half to Ada to give to Monty...except Ada didn't want to give it to Monty. It was dinnertime and she was hungry and wanted to know what kind of treats Monty gets.
In it went. Chomp chomp. Wrinkled funny face. Chomp chomp. More funny faces and gulp. Down the hatch. She ate the other half of Monty's treat while he watched in horror.
Rick was laughing so hard his face was turning all shades of red. I was just shocked that I saw the whole thing coming in slow motion.
Then Lisa pipes up, "Don't worry, they're all natural."
Luckily, Lisa's a five star mom to Monty and gets him only the best--all natural dog treats with oatmeal, cranberry and turkey--no additives, no msg, no transfats, no preservatives. Not necessarily a combo I've tried with Ada yet but she didn't seem to mind. Maybe I should add that to the menu...
Moral of the story: I guess this gives us something to work on before we go back over to Lisa's next. It's good to have goals in life. Getting Ada not to eat Monty's treats can surely be added to our list.
We let them play together through the baby gate and then moved Monty to his crate for some quiet time. All was going just great and it was time for Monty to get a treat, and of course, what could be more fun than for Ada to give it to him?
Unfortunately, Ada doesn't really get the whole idea of giving treats to a dog since we don't have one and she isn't around my parents dogs all that often. As soon as Lisa said "Here Ada, give Monty a treat." I knew the treat wasn't going to make it to Monty. I just knew it.
Sure enough, Lisa broke it in two. Gave half to Monty and half to Ada to give to Monty...except Ada didn't want to give it to Monty. It was dinnertime and she was hungry and wanted to know what kind of treats Monty gets.
In it went. Chomp chomp. Wrinkled funny face. Chomp chomp. More funny faces and gulp. Down the hatch. She ate the other half of Monty's treat while he watched in horror.
Rick was laughing so hard his face was turning all shades of red. I was just shocked that I saw the whole thing coming in slow motion.
Then Lisa pipes up, "Don't worry, they're all natural."
Luckily, Lisa's a five star mom to Monty and gets him only the best--all natural dog treats with oatmeal, cranberry and turkey--no additives, no msg, no transfats, no preservatives. Not necessarily a combo I've tried with Ada yet but she didn't seem to mind. Maybe I should add that to the menu...
Moral of the story: I guess this gives us something to work on before we go back over to Lisa's next. It's good to have goals in life. Getting Ada not to eat Monty's treats can surely be added to our list.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Ada's First Camping Trip
4th of July weekend marked a big milestone in Ada's life. She went camping for a whole weekend.
I'll admit I was really nervous about packing all of our stuff into our little Honda Civic. Amazingly it all fit. (2 sleeping bags, air mattress, pack and play, stroller, medium cooler for beer, milk, string cheese and grapes, pillows, blankets, Ada, Pooh Bear, Yertle the Turtle, Bunny, Bear, sippy cups, snacks, clothes, more clothes, bug repellent, sun block, swimsuits, hats, sunglasses, a pail and shovel, beach towels, towels, shoes, camping chairs, games, flashlights, Rick, me, etc.) We did have to remove the cooler each time we needed to get Ada out of her car seat because we packed her in pretty good. But that's understandable right?
We camped in Wisconsin at Yellowstone State Park -- not the National Park. That isn't in Wisconsin, unfortunately. After a scenic drive through Rockford via Business 20 (I recommend you don't do that), we stopped for a fancy meal at Subway and ended up picnicking outside as there were no tables available inside. Lucky for us, Ada actually wore her sunglasses for the first time and prevented significant damage to her little retinas. :)
The first night, she decided to wake up to the sound of the tent zipper when Rick and I crawled into bed, and she ended up hogging most of the air mattress. Then she got up early with the owls in the forest, then the crows, and finally every bird known and unknown to man that starts chirping at 6 am. I took her on a butt-crack-o-don walk around the campsite and up a steep hill in her little umbrella stroller. (Can someone invent a motorized stroller already. Gesh! Thank goodness we live in the midwest and it's flat here.)
She had a muffin (or I should say she crumbled a muffin all over my lap) for breakfast. And then had some cantaloupe for lunch.
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Then she spent a lot of time running around the fire pit and scaring everyone half to death. We were all on baby fire pit watch to keep her from getting too close. She had a great time going on walks with grandma and grandpa. Aunt Terri cuddled her down for a nice nap. Her schedule was completely off which made things a bit more challenging and poor Rick didn't get much of a break as she stuck to him like a sock on a static filled skirt straight out of the dryer. I'm sure his back is still hurting from holding her that much.
But I think she had fun...
She learned how to chase the light of a flashlight, just like a kitten and a laser pointer. That was entertaining.
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And her new favorite place is the beach where she spent a full hour splashing in the water with her dad. She's pretty fearless when it comes to the water. I'm sure she drank a few cups of lake water but it didn't seem to bother her one bit. Now I'll have to step it up and get her in for some swim lessons.
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Moral of the story: 99% of the things you stress about in life never happen. I know that but I still worry about packing and forgetting things and if Ada will sleep okay or get sick or eat enough or like the beach or get sunburned or we'll have good weather. Luckily, the odds were with us and she had a great time, stayed healthy and we got to relax with little rain. We'll be going again for a week in August so hopefully the odds will be with us then too.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
The key to Popsicles...
I know you've all been dying to know the trick to toddlers and Popsicles... we'll, Ada and I figured it out.
BUY THE ONES ON THE STICK, DAMN IT!
That's it. A one-and-a-half-year-old just can't do the whole pushing up of the Popsicle in the plastic sleeve and her little hands get too cold and she whines and then drops it and it breaks into pieces and you have to start all over. It just isn't worth it. Too many tears involved and eating a Popsicle should be fun. Delightful even.
Moral of the story: Never overlook the value of the stick.
BUY THE ONES ON THE STICK, DAMN IT!
That's it. A one-and-a-half-year-old just can't do the whole pushing up of the Popsicle in the plastic sleeve and her little hands get too cold and she whines and then drops it and it breaks into pieces and you have to start all over. It just isn't worth it. Too many tears involved and eating a Popsicle should be fun. Delightful even.
Moral of the story: Never overlook the value of the stick.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Talk about embarrassing...
In an effort to stay social and cool, we try to go to brunch with our friends Aaron and Cassie about once a month. To their shock and horror, they got way more than they bargained for this month. Ada started out showing how she can walk. She was really good during the meal. She ate a ton of blueberry pancakes and all was well in the world until this moment...
Then it was just time to leave.
Monday, April 13, 2009
When your child won't sleep...
Ada hasn't been taking naps very well this past few weeks and I think we've found a solution.
Send in Grandma DD.
We'll hire her out if you don't have one of your own Grandma DD.
And I must disclose that it probably wasn't any sort of magic that DD used but instead, her timing, patience, strong desire to cuddle the munchkin, and a lot of luck.
Rick, Nanny Ashley and I have all been struggling to get Ada to get a consistent nap schedule. I thought we had one for a few weeks around 11 am each day. And then that stopped but Ada's crankiness increased. We've tried a few different things, including using DD as the secret weapon, and today my secret for getting her to nap is to feed her, let her play until she rubs her eyes, feed her a big lunch, let her play some more, and then put her down at 3pm.
She was out until 4:20.
Bliss.
Moral of the story: When in doubt, tucker them out. (and be sure to stuff them if they eat as much as my kid does.)
Send in Grandma DD.
We'll hire her out if you don't have one of your own Grandma DD.
And I must disclose that it probably wasn't any sort of magic that DD used but instead, her timing, patience, strong desire to cuddle the munchkin, and a lot of luck.
Rick, Nanny Ashley and I have all been struggling to get Ada to get a consistent nap schedule. I thought we had one for a few weeks around 11 am each day. And then that stopped but Ada's crankiness increased. We've tried a few different things, including using DD as the secret weapon, and today my secret for getting her to nap is to feed her, let her play until she rubs her eyes, feed her a big lunch, let her play some more, and then put her down at 3pm.
She was out until 4:20.
Bliss.
Moral of the story: When in doubt, tucker them out. (and be sure to stuff them if they eat as much as my kid does.)
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Cat Nap
This isn't the most exciting video, but I just had to have proof that it really happened so that one day, I can tell Ada that when she wouldn't take a nap, this is what happened...
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