Sami and Dad checking out the Christmas tree at the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park on December 15th.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Monday, November 21, 2005
Thankfulness
Gee... I started to write this entry about my thankfulness without even realizing the time of year. And then when I had to title it, I realized it is a pretty timely matter. :-)
Sami was sick this whole past week. I'm talking SICK, and I'm talking it went on for 7 days. Just stop here if you're squeamish, but she had diarrhea and intermittent vomiting for 7 days straight. That's a long time, and usually--from what I understand--a child of 14 months would normally get pretty dehydrated, and have a much more serious reaction to this type of stomach flu than what we experienced. But it was still traumatic for me--made so by this being her first "real" illness that I've experienced that I couldn't "fix" with my Doctor Mom theories, which I hold in abundance. And yet she never once acted like she felt sick, or like she hurt... blessedly.
Anyway, there is a whole other story of my feelings of incompetence in this situation, and another one of the Mama Bear coming out in me when my Baby Bear was sick, and my lashing out at Papa Bear for some bad but inadvertent decisions.
But currently she's all better. Robust, healthy, great appetite, happy, funny, sunny... and so tonight--well, really all day--I've been especially aware of and appreciative of my daughter's restored good health. It culminated at dinner tonight. I made us each a grilled cheese sandwich, and served it up to her with some oranges, and some cooked carrots. And she ate so eagerly but so cutely. Now I know that just sounds stupid, but she was just this little delight all day long. And when we sat down for dinner, and I cut her sandwich (and mine) into 4 diagonally-cut triangles, she just enjoyed it so much. I have this weird affinity for dipping my grilled cheese sandwiches into ketchup. Well, dipping is a huge attraction with Sami right now, but if I give her access to said dip, it is just a nonstop dipping disaster, up to her elbows. So instead, we compromised, and I dipped on her behalf. But that didn't diminish the joy she took in dipping "like Mom."
She ate every last bite, and was so very fun at dinner with me. Giggling, and giving me pretend bites, but then pulling it away from me at the last second and popping it into her own mouth with such delight in tricking me.
That's when her dad called on the phone from work, and he goes, "What are you doing?" I answered, "Nothing." But my voice betrayed that I was kind of emotional, and he picked up on it right away, and goes, "What's wrong?" And I said, more or less, "Well, that's just it. There's nothing wrong. And I'm feeling all..." He knows he's treading in murky waters when I say anything like that. Am I sad, or happy, or psychotic.... or what? I said, "I'm just so thankful for Sami, and for her feeling so good again, and I can't help thinking about parents who have a child that doesn't get better."
He truly cannot even bear such thoughts. So he mostly didn't even respond to that. But his lack of response is his response in these cases, I've learned.
Then, as if I wasn't humbled enough... later I was giving her a bath, which was just another delightful event of the day. She was having a ball, and figured out a new way to dump water out of a toy cup, then put it on her head, and I thought about all the times that Michael and I look at each other and question... reverently... out loud but hushed... "...do all parents love and enjoy their children this much?" And usually, out of a sense of humility, I decree that all parents must.
And then you hear about our current local headline news item--about the father who is a "person of interest" in his daughter's death. And the estranged mother that hasn't spoken or seen the daughther for nearly 4 years.
And right in the middle of her happy bathtime, my stomach wrenched, and I got tears in my eyes that I took pains to hide from Sami.
Sami was sick this whole past week. I'm talking SICK, and I'm talking it went on for 7 days. Just stop here if you're squeamish, but she had diarrhea and intermittent vomiting for 7 days straight. That's a long time, and usually--from what I understand--a child of 14 months would normally get pretty dehydrated, and have a much more serious reaction to this type of stomach flu than what we experienced. But it was still traumatic for me--made so by this being her first "real" illness that I've experienced that I couldn't "fix" with my Doctor Mom theories, which I hold in abundance. And yet she never once acted like she felt sick, or like she hurt... blessedly.
Anyway, there is a whole other story of my feelings of incompetence in this situation, and another one of the Mama Bear coming out in me when my Baby Bear was sick, and my lashing out at Papa Bear for some bad but inadvertent decisions.
But currently she's all better. Robust, healthy, great appetite, happy, funny, sunny... and so tonight--well, really all day--I've been especially aware of and appreciative of my daughter's restored good health. It culminated at dinner tonight. I made us each a grilled cheese sandwich, and served it up to her with some oranges, and some cooked carrots. And she ate so eagerly but so cutely. Now I know that just sounds stupid, but she was just this little delight all day long. And when we sat down for dinner, and I cut her sandwich (and mine) into 4 diagonally-cut triangles, she just enjoyed it so much. I have this weird affinity for dipping my grilled cheese sandwiches into ketchup. Well, dipping is a huge attraction with Sami right now, but if I give her access to said dip, it is just a nonstop dipping disaster, up to her elbows. So instead, we compromised, and I dipped on her behalf. But that didn't diminish the joy she took in dipping "like Mom."
She ate every last bite, and was so very fun at dinner with me. Giggling, and giving me pretend bites, but then pulling it away from me at the last second and popping it into her own mouth with such delight in tricking me.
That's when her dad called on the phone from work, and he goes, "What are you doing?" I answered, "Nothing." But my voice betrayed that I was kind of emotional, and he picked up on it right away, and goes, "What's wrong?" And I said, more or less, "Well, that's just it. There's nothing wrong. And I'm feeling all..." He knows he's treading in murky waters when I say anything like that. Am I sad, or happy, or psychotic.... or what? I said, "I'm just so thankful for Sami, and for her feeling so good again, and I can't help thinking about parents who have a child that doesn't get better."
He truly cannot even bear such thoughts. So he mostly didn't even respond to that. But his lack of response is his response in these cases, I've learned.
Then, as if I wasn't humbled enough... later I was giving her a bath, which was just another delightful event of the day. She was having a ball, and figured out a new way to dump water out of a toy cup, then put it on her head, and I thought about all the times that Michael and I look at each other and question... reverently... out loud but hushed... "...do all parents love and enjoy their children this much?" And usually, out of a sense of humility, I decree that all parents must.
And then you hear about our current local headline news item--about the father who is a "person of interest" in his daughter's death. And the estranged mother that hasn't spoken or seen the daughther for nearly 4 years.
And right in the middle of her happy bathtime, my stomach wrenched, and I got tears in my eyes that I took pains to hide from Sami.
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Monday, October 24, 2005
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Bad Judgment
Today worked out quite nicely much like yesterday, what with the napping, self-occupied, and early-to-bed SamSam. Work went well, Sami ate her meals really quite heartily, and at bedtime, all went so smoothly. But I exhibited some really bad judgment this afternoon.
I was done working around 4:45. And it was the first really cool, fall-ish type of day, that just invigorates me. It has been so hot here the past couple of days. Temperatures in the upper 80s and 90 are just too warm for October. Especially when your office is in the southwest corner of the hot upstairs of your house and has 4 windows.
Anyway, so all day, I had deemed a walk to the grocery store was in order. My excuse was that she was out of her kind of milk. It is a little over 1 mile to the store, and just a nice-sized walk for exercise and getting “out” after a day inside on a beautiful day.
I’ve been having this weird old-lady-like hip pain, and a little cold, that has precluded me from walking like this very much the past couple of weeks, and I could tell I wasn’t exercising enough when I got on the scale. Anyway, my hip was feeling pretty stable, and I did a quick 20 minute workout of leg work, leg lifts, and sit-ups before we left, and was feeling pretty good.
I knew it was cool outside and all, but I still dressed in shorts and a tank top onaccounta I get so warm when I’m walking. But I did dress Sami in jeans, a t-shirt, and a sweatshirt—with socks too.
I gathered up our “walk belongings” and loaded her up in the stroller, then set the house alarm. Once in the garage and ready to leave, I realized I didn’t have the spare blanket I usually keep in the stroller should we encounter inclement weather. But the thought of unarming the alarm, and leaving a keening Sami in the garage by herself while I retrieved it from upstairs convinced me to go without it.
We stepped outside, and I kind of noticed that despite the sunshine, there appeared to be a rather ominous front developing over the mountains to the west. I rationalized that I could make it to the store and back in under 45 minutes if I kept up a good pace, and took off anyway. Even though my little cautionary inner voice was nagging at me to turn back.
It was a bit breezy—but okay—on the way there. We only had to grab about 4 items at the store, but the line at the deli was really long. When we walked out my heart sank… the front had moved in, and it was wildly windy and cold. The temperature had dropped probably 15 or 20 degrees, and it was windy, and misting, and cold. The wind was coming in right from the direction we were heading—to the north.
It was a very long trip home despite the fact that I ran most of the way. Didn’t even know I had that in me—and it turns out that running while pushing about 60 pounds of stroller, baby and groceries, along with the wind-resistance of putting up the canopy on the stroller was a remarkably good aerobic workout. Sami just screamed about the final 5 blocks. She was cold, and disturbed by the strong wind in her face, and picking up on my anxiety over subjecting my dear, sweet baby to this horrible weather. We ran into about 5 people out walking dogs, biking or jogging – but all of them were dressed in long pants, with long sleeves and sweatshirts, and looked at me like I was truly insane in my shorts and tank-top, with my screaming red-nosed baby.
We made it home okay, of course. And I gave her a bottle of really warm milk right away, and she was fine. But I know that next time I will pay attention to that feeling of venturing out against my good judgment.
About 5 minutes after we got home and settled in, it started pouring rain with lightening and thunder. It was really quite cold. Turns out it is supposed to snow tonight.
She’s snug in bed in her fleecy, footie pajamas, with an extra t-shirt underneath to keep her warm through the night.
I was done working around 4:45. And it was the first really cool, fall-ish type of day, that just invigorates me. It has been so hot here the past couple of days. Temperatures in the upper 80s and 90 are just too warm for October. Especially when your office is in the southwest corner of the hot upstairs of your house and has 4 windows.
Anyway, so all day, I had deemed a walk to the grocery store was in order. My excuse was that she was out of her kind of milk. It is a little over 1 mile to the store, and just a nice-sized walk for exercise and getting “out” after a day inside on a beautiful day.
I’ve been having this weird old-lady-like hip pain, and a little cold, that has precluded me from walking like this very much the past couple of weeks, and I could tell I wasn’t exercising enough when I got on the scale. Anyway, my hip was feeling pretty stable, and I did a quick 20 minute workout of leg work, leg lifts, and sit-ups before we left, and was feeling pretty good.
I knew it was cool outside and all, but I still dressed in shorts and a tank top onaccounta I get so warm when I’m walking. But I did dress Sami in jeans, a t-shirt, and a sweatshirt—with socks too.
I gathered up our “walk belongings” and loaded her up in the stroller, then set the house alarm. Once in the garage and ready to leave, I realized I didn’t have the spare blanket I usually keep in the stroller should we encounter inclement weather. But the thought of unarming the alarm, and leaving a keening Sami in the garage by herself while I retrieved it from upstairs convinced me to go without it.
We stepped outside, and I kind of noticed that despite the sunshine, there appeared to be a rather ominous front developing over the mountains to the west. I rationalized that I could make it to the store and back in under 45 minutes if I kept up a good pace, and took off anyway. Even though my little cautionary inner voice was nagging at me to turn back.
It was a bit breezy—but okay—on the way there. We only had to grab about 4 items at the store, but the line at the deli was really long. When we walked out my heart sank… the front had moved in, and it was wildly windy and cold. The temperature had dropped probably 15 or 20 degrees, and it was windy, and misting, and cold. The wind was coming in right from the direction we were heading—to the north.
It was a very long trip home despite the fact that I ran most of the way. Didn’t even know I had that in me—and it turns out that running while pushing about 60 pounds of stroller, baby and groceries, along with the wind-resistance of putting up the canopy on the stroller was a remarkably good aerobic workout. Sami just screamed about the final 5 blocks. She was cold, and disturbed by the strong wind in her face, and picking up on my anxiety over subjecting my dear, sweet baby to this horrible weather. We ran into about 5 people out walking dogs, biking or jogging – but all of them were dressed in long pants, with long sleeves and sweatshirts, and looked at me like I was truly insane in my shorts and tank-top, with my screaming red-nosed baby.
We made it home okay, of course. And I gave her a bottle of really warm milk right away, and she was fine. But I know that next time I will pay attention to that feeling of venturing out against my good judgment.
About 5 minutes after we got home and settled in, it started pouring rain with lightening and thunder. It was really quite cold. Turns out it is supposed to snow tonight.
She’s snug in bed in her fleecy, footie pajamas, with an extra t-shirt underneath to keep her warm through the night.
Monday, October 03, 2005
Today: Simple as That
Today – Simple as That.
Sami slept in until 7:20 this morning. And it was Michael’s turn to sleep in, since he had been up late after getting home from work last night at 10 but then still having to write up a report. So Sami and I let Daddy sleep in, and she played while I worked at my computer, ‘cause it is a work-from-home day.
When Michael woke up, we all went downstairs for a quick breakfast – Sami was served toast, sliced grapes, and some cheese. What she ate was the cheese and the grapes, and she used the toast for launching. Michael endured a lecture about the gravity of maintaining consistent discipline messages for Sami on his days with her, while I unloaded the dishwasher and observed her diving her little mitts right into the silverware holder—regardless of sharp knives. I had her taught this no-no when I last left her on Tuesday. But 3 days of Daddy’s leniency (“…well, it was so cute when she handed me a fork to put away…”) and she was right back at it.
Sami spent the rest of the morning monitoring Daddy’s preparation to go to work, and my progress at the computer, in between bouts of playing. Around 11, she laid down for a nap, and didn’t wake up until after 1. We had lunch together (turkey, cauliflower, green beans, orange slices, cheese and milk for Sami; again, the oranges and cheese were big favorites for eating, the remainder for tossing apparently). Then back to work for me, and back to play for her. Around 2:45 or so, she was getting overly frustrated with a couple of uncooperative toys, and so I made her a bottle and laid her down in her crib to drink it, and didn’t hear another peep out of her until 5:15!
I mean, seriously, I know parents that I talk to either don’t believe me when I tell them how much and how easily she sleeps, or they do believe me and hate me. I’m claiming no acumen on this matter – I just got the lucky draw baby. I know that. But geesh, that means really she’s only awake about 8 hours a day. And during that time, she’s so self-entertained with a few toys and books... I can’t complain.
So anyway, I knock off working around 5-ish, and wait for Sami to wake up from her nap, and when she does, we both get dressed in something decent for the public to view, should we run into any public, and we head out in the stroller to get the mail and visit our neighborhood park. First we swing, then I let Sami down to freeform… and she heads straight for the gym equipment. There, we meet a little boy named Alex who is six, and much to my delight, another old mom. We ended up chatting at length, and Suzanne just moved here from Missouri 6 months ago, and marvels at the neighborhood. How everyone seems to have the same “values” and the beautiful parks, and houses, etc. And once again I am sheepishly grateful that we pulled off getting to live here. We are SO the neighborhood riff-raff. Evidenced by the conversation with this woman who eventually reveals that they live “just off Crescent Park.” Which, to the uninitiated means that she is filthy rich – those homes are multi-million dollar homes. She eventually mentions (in a legitimate scenario regarding how much children need to sleep because their brains are “wiring”) that her husband is a neurologist. ‘Nuff said. Anyway, she was very nice, and we just kind of clicked, talking about being older moms, and how both our husbands were 50 when their children were born.
At one point she asked me if I was going to send Sami to preschool, or straight to kindergarten. I admitted that that is precisely the type of thing that keeps me awake at night. I don’t know this stuff. I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t even understand the implications of my choices, for Pete’s sake.
If you had asked me when I found out I was pregnant and going to have this child, I would have been certain I would be a limp-along, inept parent. But so far, every stage that has come along has been pretty self-explanatory, and I feel like I might be doing okay. So I try not to sweat the stuff about the future.
Then I get her ominous cautionary prediction that I’d better decide soon if Denver is anything like Columbia, Missouri where she lived for so many years… that if I decide on preschool, the waiting list is years long. Great. Just what I need. Now I have something to worry about again when I wake up at 4am.
Anyway, it is difficult for me to explain – this day was so very routine in its timing, and tasks, and duties. And yet, so wildly enjoyable. Sami was a dream – happy and self-occupied, and napping right on cue, then going to bed like a sweet, sweet angel, after her bath and a book. My life is full of days like this, so full of routines, which to me – the word routine used to be reprehensible. And yet I love it so much, and enjoy it so very much. And am so full of gratitude and wonder that I get to have this life, and this daughter and this husband. Aren’t I such a sap? But it is true. Now I’m not here to claim I never have frustration or get short-tempered. I do. Big time. But I also, usually within minutes of it, am able to put it aside and realize that I might very well be the most-blessed person I know of.
Anyway, yeah… I sure enjoyed my day.
Sami slept in until 7:20 this morning. And it was Michael’s turn to sleep in, since he had been up late after getting home from work last night at 10 but then still having to write up a report. So Sami and I let Daddy sleep in, and she played while I worked at my computer, ‘cause it is a work-from-home day.
When Michael woke up, we all went downstairs for a quick breakfast – Sami was served toast, sliced grapes, and some cheese. What she ate was the cheese and the grapes, and she used the toast for launching. Michael endured a lecture about the gravity of maintaining consistent discipline messages for Sami on his days with her, while I unloaded the dishwasher and observed her diving her little mitts right into the silverware holder—regardless of sharp knives. I had her taught this no-no when I last left her on Tuesday. But 3 days of Daddy’s leniency (“…well, it was so cute when she handed me a fork to put away…”) and she was right back at it.
Sami spent the rest of the morning monitoring Daddy’s preparation to go to work, and my progress at the computer, in between bouts of playing. Around 11, she laid down for a nap, and didn’t wake up until after 1. We had lunch together (turkey, cauliflower, green beans, orange slices, cheese and milk for Sami; again, the oranges and cheese were big favorites for eating, the remainder for tossing apparently). Then back to work for me, and back to play for her. Around 2:45 or so, she was getting overly frustrated with a couple of uncooperative toys, and so I made her a bottle and laid her down in her crib to drink it, and didn’t hear another peep out of her until 5:15!
I mean, seriously, I know parents that I talk to either don’t believe me when I tell them how much and how easily she sleeps, or they do believe me and hate me. I’m claiming no acumen on this matter – I just got the lucky draw baby. I know that. But geesh, that means really she’s only awake about 8 hours a day. And during that time, she’s so self-entertained with a few toys and books... I can’t complain.
So anyway, I knock off working around 5-ish, and wait for Sami to wake up from her nap, and when she does, we both get dressed in something decent for the public to view, should we run into any public, and we head out in the stroller to get the mail and visit our neighborhood park. First we swing, then I let Sami down to freeform… and she heads straight for the gym equipment. There, we meet a little boy named Alex who is six, and much to my delight, another old mom. We ended up chatting at length, and Suzanne just moved here from Missouri 6 months ago, and marvels at the neighborhood. How everyone seems to have the same “values” and the beautiful parks, and houses, etc. And once again I am sheepishly grateful that we pulled off getting to live here. We are SO the neighborhood riff-raff. Evidenced by the conversation with this woman who eventually reveals that they live “just off Crescent Park.” Which, to the uninitiated means that she is filthy rich – those homes are multi-million dollar homes. She eventually mentions (in a legitimate scenario regarding how much children need to sleep because their brains are “wiring”) that her husband is a neurologist. ‘Nuff said. Anyway, she was very nice, and we just kind of clicked, talking about being older moms, and how both our husbands were 50 when their children were born.
At one point she asked me if I was going to send Sami to preschool, or straight to kindergarten. I admitted that that is precisely the type of thing that keeps me awake at night. I don’t know this stuff. I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t even understand the implications of my choices, for Pete’s sake.
If you had asked me when I found out I was pregnant and going to have this child, I would have been certain I would be a limp-along, inept parent. But so far, every stage that has come along has been pretty self-explanatory, and I feel like I might be doing okay. So I try not to sweat the stuff about the future.
Then I get her ominous cautionary prediction that I’d better decide soon if Denver is anything like Columbia, Missouri where she lived for so many years… that if I decide on preschool, the waiting list is years long. Great. Just what I need. Now I have something to worry about again when I wake up at 4am.
Anyway, it is difficult for me to explain – this day was so very routine in its timing, and tasks, and duties. And yet, so wildly enjoyable. Sami was a dream – happy and self-occupied, and napping right on cue, then going to bed like a sweet, sweet angel, after her bath and a book. My life is full of days like this, so full of routines, which to me – the word routine used to be reprehensible. And yet I love it so much, and enjoy it so very much. And am so full of gratitude and wonder that I get to have this life, and this daughter and this husband. Aren’t I such a sap? But it is true. Now I’m not here to claim I never have frustration or get short-tempered. I do. Big time. But I also, usually within minutes of it, am able to put it aside and realize that I might very well be the most-blessed person I know of.
Anyway, yeah… I sure enjoyed my day.
Neglect
Okay, now I’ve neglected this for WAY too long, and when I do think of getting back in here I feel all this pressure to get all caught up on everything I’ve missed (Sami walking, Sami turning 1, and on and on), and then I feel overwhelmed and procrastinate some more. So here’s how it is – I’m just going to start from here. So I missed some milestones. I’ll live with it, just to motivate myself to get back in here and write about the little daily nuances of life with Sami that are probably going to wind up being the things I’ll most enjoy reading about in the future anyway. It is those little daily occurrences that I find I tend to forget, and enjoy reading about when I go back anyway. So there.
I think I’ll commit to trying to get in here at least a few times a week, and just writing about what our day consisted of that day. I’m going to try to do it… say… in the evenings before I go to bed, after Sami has gone to bed. More of a diary-type entry. Maybe that will be less daunting than trying to capture these milestones, and all my feelings about raising a child.
Yep. That’s what I’ll do then.
I think I’ll commit to trying to get in here at least a few times a week, and just writing about what our day consisted of that day. I’m going to try to do it… say… in the evenings before I go to bed, after Sami has gone to bed. More of a diary-type entry. Maybe that will be less daunting than trying to capture these milestones, and all my feelings about raising a child.
Yep. That’s what I’ll do then.
Monday, August 08, 2005
Sami, 11 Months Old!!
Geez, how did 11 months go by already? No more baby, infant Sami. She seems very close to walking (Michael and I are convinced she'll take some steps before she turns 1 at the end of this month).
She's no longer eating baby food at all really. Well, she'll still eat the applesauce, and that is it. Otherwise, she is pretty insistent on feeding chunks of adult food to herself. When she would first allow us to feed her the chunked adult food, she'd eat anything. Now, not so much. If it is vegetables, all she does is squish them pointedly under her index finger. She'll occasionally allow us to feed her yogurt, but she's pretty particular about the flavor. Orange creme is her current favorite.
(starting writing this 3 weeks ago, and never finished…might as well post it)
She's no longer eating baby food at all really. Well, she'll still eat the applesauce, and that is it. Otherwise, she is pretty insistent on feeding chunks of adult food to herself. When she would first allow us to feed her the chunked adult food, she'd eat anything. Now, not so much. If it is vegetables, all she does is squish them pointedly under her index finger. She'll occasionally allow us to feed her yogurt, but she's pretty particular about the flavor. Orange creme is her current favorite.
(starting writing this 3 weeks ago, and never finished…might as well post it)
Monday, July 18, 2005
Frightened
Here are the crazy thoughts that actually found their way into my head tonight as I was sitting in the dark, on a perfect beautiful night, on my patio, listening to music. I was thinking back about when I was pregnant with Sami and how she was really just theoretical at that time. I mean, every once in a while -- because I was seeing a "high risk" pregnancy specialist (you know, because I was "of a certain age") -- I would get to glimpse her grainy features in a 3D ultrasound, but ultimately she was still just a blob, more or less. I absolutely could not WAIT to see how she was going to look and be -- that was the thing I anticipated most about finally delivering her -- was to see this little being that I'd been speculating about all this time. But the high risk "people" had this knack of providing wildly horrendous and scary possibilities for me to go home and worry about with every visit. What if this or that went wrong? Anyway, here I sit, and I'm thinking about how I handled it at the time (which was, in retrospect probably Not Very Well) and how I kept applying their doomsaying to this blob thing--and even that was terribly scary, you know, but I dealt with it with Michael's unwavering assurance that everything was going to be fine. So I was thinking, what if I knew Sami the way I know her now -- her personality; her penchant for making me laugh; her sweet, sweet nature; her sunny smile, her beautiful heart... can you imagine if you somehow had to possess that knowledge of truly knowing her like I know her now, and then have to back up and go through all that scariness again? I mean, it was one thing applying all that fear to an unknown person... what if I had to go back and face all that fright knowing that the scary possibilities they would list for me existed, and actually referenced the Sami I know now. My gosh. Can you imagine the angst? The basket case I would have been?! So I was thinking that. But in a thankful way.
And how weird that I find a way to be thankful that I didn't have to be that frightened. :-)
And then that got me to thinking that even though it is my birthday tomorrow, and that that used to be such a Big Deal -- but that this time Michael has to be out of town for 4 days over my birthday and basically it'll just be me and Sami for my birthday. And I thought about how much I love her... and him. And how it just isn't a big deal any more for me to think about celebrating Me on my birthday. Sure I rationalized some purchases of some new clothes this past week, and I'll admit Sami and I made a special trip walking to the store today to buy a nice bottle of my favorite wine in anticipation of a solo dinner of crab legs and chardonnay tomorrow night--just for myself. But I'm not playing the martyr with this scene. It is truly a happy thought to think of spending my birthday with Sami, at the same time I look forward to acknowledging the day in some pleasant way with Michael when he returns from his work conference. Geez. What's the deal? Have I actually matured finally? Have I learned not to be so selfish? Who knew having this amazing experience every day with this incredible daughter brought along with it such satisfying life lessons? :-)
Enough about me. Today, while I was working, Sami kept sidling up and tugging on some papers I was working on that were on top my desk but within her reach. And I decided that even though "they" say you shouldn't try to teach your baby right from wrong at this age--that in fact, it is better just to distract them--I had this feeling that she's smart enough, and has enough consciousness about herself that she could begin to grasp the basics of right and wrong--yes and no. So I told her "no." Firmly, but not in a mean fashion. And it was more about my facial expressions. She's so used to me smiling and being delighted with her, and when I wasn't, it clearly made an impression. So she did it, like, 4 times in a row. To test me and make sure she was seeing what she was seeing. That is, a stern mom that wasn't that amused with her. It totally flummoxed her. She just stood there at my side, looking earnestly into my eyes, and then you could see a little flicker pass by her eyes... and she took hold of my hand, and pressed it to her mouth in her version of a kiss.
Yeah. She got me with that one. :-)
And how weird that I find a way to be thankful that I didn't have to be that frightened. :-)
And then that got me to thinking that even though it is my birthday tomorrow, and that that used to be such a Big Deal -- but that this time Michael has to be out of town for 4 days over my birthday and basically it'll just be me and Sami for my birthday. And I thought about how much I love her... and him. And how it just isn't a big deal any more for me to think about celebrating Me on my birthday. Sure I rationalized some purchases of some new clothes this past week, and I'll admit Sami and I made a special trip walking to the store today to buy a nice bottle of my favorite wine in anticipation of a solo dinner of crab legs and chardonnay tomorrow night--just for myself. But I'm not playing the martyr with this scene. It is truly a happy thought to think of spending my birthday with Sami, at the same time I look forward to acknowledging the day in some pleasant way with Michael when he returns from his work conference. Geez. What's the deal? Have I actually matured finally? Have I learned not to be so selfish? Who knew having this amazing experience every day with this incredible daughter brought along with it such satisfying life lessons? :-)
Enough about me. Today, while I was working, Sami kept sidling up and tugging on some papers I was working on that were on top my desk but within her reach. And I decided that even though "they" say you shouldn't try to teach your baby right from wrong at this age--that in fact, it is better just to distract them--I had this feeling that she's smart enough, and has enough consciousness about herself that she could begin to grasp the basics of right and wrong--yes and no. So I told her "no." Firmly, but not in a mean fashion. And it was more about my facial expressions. She's so used to me smiling and being delighted with her, and when I wasn't, it clearly made an impression. So she did it, like, 4 times in a row. To test me and make sure she was seeing what she was seeing. That is, a stern mom that wasn't that amused with her. It totally flummoxed her. She just stood there at my side, looking earnestly into my eyes, and then you could see a little flicker pass by her eyes... and she took hold of my hand, and pressed it to her mouth in her version of a kiss.
Yeah. She got me with that one. :-)
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
wysiwyg
Sami is so inquisitive and can now crawl across a room in just a heartbeat. Into everything. If I open the fridge, she just comes scooting from wherever she is to try to get into it. Same with the dishwasher. What is the attraction, I don't know. But she is bent on exploring them. Last night she was so cute, and showed me how literally babies can apply their logic to things... they only know what they see right now.
Just as Michael and I finished up dinner out on our patio the other night, Sami woke up from a late, short nap, and our next-door neighbor Dee came over. Sami was eating raisins out there with us, and I asked her if I could have one, and she fed it to me. Then I asked her to give Daddy one, which she did. Then I told her Dee wanted one -- and this was so adorable, she put the raisin up in the sky towards Dee's upstairs window where she always yells down at us when we're out on the patio, and just then it dawned on us that Sami doesn't realize that the Dee in the window is the same woman that comes over to the patio. So, so cute.
I guess we always say things like "There's Dee!" when we see her in the window. But when she comes over to visit on the patio, we probably don't say her name a whole lot, and so Sami never figured out how all of that transpired.
Just as Michael and I finished up dinner out on our patio the other night, Sami woke up from a late, short nap, and our next-door neighbor Dee came over. Sami was eating raisins out there with us, and I asked her if I could have one, and she fed it to me. Then I asked her to give Daddy one, which she did. Then I told her Dee wanted one -- and this was so adorable, she put the raisin up in the sky towards Dee's upstairs window where she always yells down at us when we're out on the patio, and just then it dawned on us that Sami doesn't realize that the Dee in the window is the same woman that comes over to the patio. So, so cute.
I guess we always say things like "There's Dee!" when we see her in the window. But when she comes over to visit on the patio, we probably don't say her name a whole lot, and so Sami never figured out how all of that transpired.
Funny Sami
Oh that Samster... she is just in here in my office playing with her "new" (from a garage sale) little activity table toy. And she was all involved in it, and and was kind of forgetting that I was here, ya know. And then I coughed a little bit, and I glanced at her, and without looking at me, her eyes just lit up because when she heard me cough, it reminded her that if she fakes a cough, we will give her attention and go, "Are you awright?!" So sure enough, she shot me a couple of little fake coughs, and then when I'd turn around in my chair to her and go, "Are you awright?" she'd just grin. And then she did it like 3 more times. But before she coughs she has to kind of squint her eyes to concentrate on the noise she's going to make, and on the last one, it just all went awry and she made this hilarious, pathetic little funny fading noise, and the look on her face was so funny and dear, and it made me laugh out loud hard -- now she's just beside herself with pride that she made me laugh so hard, but she can't quite figure out what she did to do it. Oh that girl.
Friday, July 08, 2005
Monday, June 06, 2005
Sami Crawls and Gets Called "Spoiled"
Yep, it is official. Sami crawled! Last Wednesday evening. Here's the thing; with our schedules, and her early bedtime, her dad and I are at home, together, with her, during waking hours for what, maybe 6 hours per week? What were the odds that her first official crawl happened with both of us sitting right there watching her? I'll just admit it too, we both got a little teary-eyed. We're such goobers over her. Anyway, she's been pretty mobile by virtue of scooching, but she finally got up on her hands and knees to stay and move that night. Of course, now here's the part where I go on and on about how cute it was/is. She isn't real coordinated at it yet, so her little crawl-steps are these teeny little choppy movements, and yes, it is wildly adorable.
After my entry last night, following the late phone call from the distraught friend, I had to have a babysitter for a few hours today, to go take over the oversight of our company's golf tournament registration and check-in. About a week ago, I had decided I had wanted to go out to the tournament just for fun, and so had called my regular favorite babysitter, Leslie, but she wasn't available. And she had suggested two friends, with whom I made contact, but neither of them were available either. So I had resigned myself to the fact that I just couldn't go. Then I got this emergency call last night, leaving me with no choice but to go with Irene. We kind of refer to her as the wacky babysitter. She's very sweet, older (retired), but unfortunately she usually takes care of old people and was just branching out into youngsters the first time we began using her. And that's when we still had SamtheCat, and Michael swore when we used her that she seemed just befuddled enough that one night we'd get home and she'd have tucked the cat into the crib and fed the baby catfood. Anyway, we had to have SamtheCat put down 2 weeks ago, so that's not a worry anymore. :-( And honestly, she is a very nice older lady, and with being retired is much more available than our college-age sitters. So I called her out of desperation and she agreed to come over today. I had already left for the tournament, so Michael had the task of kind of reaquainting her with Sami, and formula and where we keep everything, etc. Well, with Sami right at 9 months, she's peaking with her "stranger anxiety" phase. And this was no exception, I guess. At one point I called home to see how it was going after Irene got there but before Michael left for work, and all I could hear was Sami screaming, and Michael going, "It isn't really going very good." (Just so you don't feel bad, please know that shortly after that, Sami went to her crib for a nap, and slept until just before I got home. So she was fine.) But the funny part is, Michael then called me on his way to work and was still bristling at Irene's offhand comment that Sami was "spoiled." It really irked him. He goes, "She isn't spoiled, she just loves her daddy. She's daddy's girl." Then I think he mumbled some other stuff too.
Then when I got home, and Irene kind of recapped the couple of hours I was gone, she sort of admonished me about Sami's reaction to her. She subtly indicated that in her opinion, Sami needed to be exposed to more strangers. It was clearly her opinion that that was the source of Sami's "bad" behavior. See, in Irene's mind, she's our only babysitter. So she thinks that the 2 times we used her were the only times Sami's ever been with anyone outside mom and dad. Now, I didn't go out of my way to dispel those thoughts of Irene's, because -- well, I don't know. You just feel like you're two-timing your babysitter if you use other people I guess. I know it is stupid. But we liked our other babysitter so much we use her whenever we can, but we don't want to offend Irene onaccounta she's so available for emergencies. See?
So what I couldn't bring myself to tell ol' Irene was that Sami has never cried when we leave her with Leslie. So I ended up having to listen to her advice about how to raise my child (please note, Irene has no children herself) without being able to properly defend myself. That's probably pretty funny -- me taking ill-advice without mouthing off back to someone. I don't know if that has ever happened before.
After my entry last night, following the late phone call from the distraught friend, I had to have a babysitter for a few hours today, to go take over the oversight of our company's golf tournament registration and check-in. About a week ago, I had decided I had wanted to go out to the tournament just for fun, and so had called my regular favorite babysitter, Leslie, but she wasn't available. And she had suggested two friends, with whom I made contact, but neither of them were available either. So I had resigned myself to the fact that I just couldn't go. Then I got this emergency call last night, leaving me with no choice but to go with Irene. We kind of refer to her as the wacky babysitter. She's very sweet, older (retired), but unfortunately she usually takes care of old people and was just branching out into youngsters the first time we began using her. And that's when we still had SamtheCat, and Michael swore when we used her that she seemed just befuddled enough that one night we'd get home and she'd have tucked the cat into the crib and fed the baby catfood. Anyway, we had to have SamtheCat put down 2 weeks ago, so that's not a worry anymore. :-( And honestly, she is a very nice older lady, and with being retired is much more available than our college-age sitters. So I called her out of desperation and she agreed to come over today. I had already left for the tournament, so Michael had the task of kind of reaquainting her with Sami, and formula and where we keep everything, etc. Well, with Sami right at 9 months, she's peaking with her "stranger anxiety" phase. And this was no exception, I guess. At one point I called home to see how it was going after Irene got there but before Michael left for work, and all I could hear was Sami screaming, and Michael going, "It isn't really going very good." (Just so you don't feel bad, please know that shortly after that, Sami went to her crib for a nap, and slept until just before I got home. So she was fine.) But the funny part is, Michael then called me on his way to work and was still bristling at Irene's offhand comment that Sami was "spoiled." It really irked him. He goes, "She isn't spoiled, she just loves her daddy. She's daddy's girl." Then I think he mumbled some other stuff too.
Then when I got home, and Irene kind of recapped the couple of hours I was gone, she sort of admonished me about Sami's reaction to her. She subtly indicated that in her opinion, Sami needed to be exposed to more strangers. It was clearly her opinion that that was the source of Sami's "bad" behavior. See, in Irene's mind, she's our only babysitter. So she thinks that the 2 times we used her were the only times Sami's ever been with anyone outside mom and dad. Now, I didn't go out of my way to dispel those thoughts of Irene's, because -- well, I don't know. You just feel like you're two-timing your babysitter if you use other people I guess. I know it is stupid. But we liked our other babysitter so much we use her whenever we can, but we don't want to offend Irene onaccounta she's so available for emergencies. See?
So what I couldn't bring myself to tell ol' Irene was that Sami has never cried when we leave her with Leslie. So I ended up having to listen to her advice about how to raise my child (please note, Irene has no children herself) without being able to properly defend myself. That's probably pretty funny -- me taking ill-advice without mouthing off back to someone. I don't know if that has ever happened before.
Sunday, June 05, 2005
Nothing Good
So I'm given this gift... this unbelievable, incredible, blessing. This little being, this person who measures 29" by what... 7"... x 21 pounds. And no matter the day and the trying times therein, I swear I always remember that I have been given something precious and sacred and unspeakable... and I honestly--every day--consciously think on purpose, about how lucky I am. And I truly marvel at the love I get to feel for her, and then second only to that is the love I feel for her father. I love them both unspeakable amounts.... so, so much.
And I constantly worry that even though I am wildly grateful in a literal sense--each day-- for what I've been given.... I still worry that I'm not being grateful enough to forestall something terrible happening to one of them.
And now I tell you that when things happen at work; you know, like someone goes, "I just absolutely must have this by 9am tomorrow." And when they say that, I have literally always said to myself, "Like... if you don't get it by then... really... will it really matter?!" I swear... my comparison to put things in perspective has always been, "Okay, is it a Big Deal? Is it really important?" And I always say to myself (and sometimes others) "It isn't like someone you love has cancer. So get over it."
And then one of your good friends / coworkers finds out her husband has cancer. Lungs and brain. And then there is nothing good left to say.
And I constantly worry that even though I am wildly grateful in a literal sense--each day-- for what I've been given.... I still worry that I'm not being grateful enough to forestall something terrible happening to one of them.
And now I tell you that when things happen at work; you know, like someone goes, "I just absolutely must have this by 9am tomorrow." And when they say that, I have literally always said to myself, "Like... if you don't get it by then... really... will it really matter?!" I swear... my comparison to put things in perspective has always been, "Okay, is it a Big Deal? Is it really important?" And I always say to myself (and sometimes others) "It isn't like someone you love has cancer. So get over it."
And then one of your good friends / coworkers finds out her husband has cancer. Lungs and brain. And then there is nothing good left to say.
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Made-up Songs for Sami
(Now, of course, many of these have choreography that go along with them, and you can't know the wonderful tune these get sung to, but you'll just have to imagine.) For posterity, a few of the little songs I've made up for Sami:
- "Sami Bragg... Sami Bragg... she's a cutey, she's a beauty... Sami Bragg."
- "Sami Sam the Samster Sam; she's so pretty yes she am... Sami Sam the Samster Sam, she's a sweetie yes she am..." (The particular beauty of this one is that you can make up endless verses.)
- "Good morning, good morning; it's such a lovely day... Good morning, I love you, in each and every way."
- "Rockin' with the baby, rockin' with the baby... rock 'n rock, rock 'n rock... rockin' with the baby." (Of course on this one you can randomly insert "my Sami" instead of saying the more generic "the baby." Or if you really want to mix things up a bit, you can do "Singin' with the baby" on alternate verses.)
- "Woo hoo... woo hoo hoo; ah hah... ah hah hah." (This one is from a current commercial, and a particular favorite of Sami's since she can "sing" the first two syllables with me. It makes her father's eyes roll back in his head after Sami and I have sung it about a dozen times in a day.)
As far as your more traditional songs go, with the nursery rhymes and such, our tendency is to get about 8 words into them and then kind of veer off to lah-lah-lahing, since sometimes the words aren't so fresh in my memory. These made-up songs are better anyway; more personal.
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