Hello, Stranger(s)

Greetings from my Deathbed. I've been SICK, I tell you, Sick, Sick, Sick. Today will be my third day off of work and I'm actually going to try and see the doctor. I knew it was coming Sunday night when my throat started feeling all tight. Its been downhill from there.

Donny has been rather fussy lately, too. It might be teething or maybe he's just practicing for his terrible twos, but our happy go lucky boy has been full of piss and vinegar. Also, the whining? Back full force. Sigh.

All that being said, Saturday was a good day. Mike changed his work schedule so he'd have the day off and we had a yard sale. It was not well attended, probably because I only used free advertising as opposed to paying a newspaper to print something. Still, we make about $90 and we moved some of the babystuff that had been piling up. Next stop: Craigs List.

BTW, it is 6:30 in the morning. Mike is in our bed with Donovan, who woke up at 4:30coughing and crying. I tried to sleep with them but everytime I'd cough, the poor kid would jerk awake. I finally got up and did dishes. Obviously, I'm in that sleepless/coughsyrup state of mind. That being said, I saw a magazine at Whole Foods that has an article on "Radical Housekeeping." I'm intrigued. Could I drop off the grid and be a radical housekeeper? I have to say that being a full time working mother--sometimes I feel like I'm working full time just to pay to keep my kid in daycare full time. Alot of the time it feels like a beast that feeds itself, if you know what I mean. And its hard keeping the house in shape, paying the bills, cooking, etc, especially when my schedule and Mike's schedule don't mesh. We're doing alright so far but its very much by the grace of two big "economic stimulus packages" given to us by my Mom's family. I recently was propositioned, more or less, by a cemetery on the North Side about doing historical research for them as well as some grant writing. I could so kick ass at all that but, but, but...

Thinking give me wrinkles. Let's just say that I've got alot on my mind and I'm opening myself to suggestions.

Of All The Things To Worry About

Dear Baby Expert,

I hope you can help me! My son is 17 months old and all he wants to eat are vegetables! He's in the 5th percentile for his weight and we've been trying to "fatten him up!" The problem is, he only wants to eat healthy food! Last night I tried to feed him ice cream but he reached into his mouth, took it out and threw it on the floor! All he wanted to eat was edamame! The doctor says not to worry but I'm worried! Help!!!

Have a Donut, Pittsburgh.

From A-List to Sick List

The past couple of days have been exciting in Babyland but I'll keep my report brief as I'm using the tail end of my lunchhour.

The day before yesterday, Donny's Aunts Claire and Heather were in town for a whirlwind visit. As usual, they skillfully hooked up with a majority of their friends, this time via a lovely party thrown for them by their friends Todd and Beth. Mike and I had decided that we would go to the party right when I was done with work. I should note that, without the proper decompression time after work my socializing skills can deteriorate. They did somewhat at this party--I caught myself eating layer cake with my hands right in people's faces, for instance--but it was such a comfortable affair that I think I did alright. And, really, I was'nt worried so much about myself as about Donny as he had just come from the doctor where he got two rounds of shots at once. I must say that Donovan really did well. There were a couple brief stints of crying but only because he managed to bonk his head on the floor and table. As far as being socialable, I think he did just fine. AND he gave his Aunt Claire a big slurpy open mouth on the cheek kiss, which made me happy.

The next morning, I got Donovan out of bed to wake him up and the boy was like flypaper--very unusual for my Put Me Down I Want To Walk boy. One thing I wish is that babies had an Affection knob where you could turn it up or down as necessary. Donny is'nt not affectionate but its definately on his own terms. Thus, when he crawls into my lap on his own accord and burrows his head into my shoulder, my first thought is "Sweet!" quickly followed by, "Uh Oh." Turns out he had a fever, most likely a residual effect of his shots the day before. I took the day off and we spent the day at home together. I did get him to take a couple of good sized naps, despite the fact that there were roofers banging away right outside the bedroom window.

Today, Mike and I are both back at work and Donny's at daycare. So far, so good.

Naked as a Jay Bird

Donny has pretty much outgrown being bathed in the sink. As it was a hot day today, I decided to scrub him in that old laundry tub. And as we were kickin' it old school, why not scrub him outside, where all the neighbors can see?


The other news is that all three of us went to church today and Donny did fine in the Nursery. The past couple of times I've left him there, I look up halfway thru the service and some poor, kindly soul is holding my sniveling baby and looking for me to take him off their hands. We may have gotten lucky or maybe we passed a milestone. Stay tuned.

At the Corner of Metaphor and Premonition

Donovan is now at the "I'll do it myself, thanks" stage, which so far has not gotten very Terrible Twos, if you know what I mean. Yesterday, when we walked from daycare to Whole Foods, he pressed the elevator buttons at both Borders and in the Parking Garage (I had to hold him up but he did press them. Plus, when we got to the car, I unlocked the driver's side door to pop the trunk and the kid climbed right into the driver's seat!

Also in the news: guess who cut a molar! We were giving the boy a bath last night and I was doing double duty and trying to brush his teeth and, there it was, on the lower left side. That goes along way towards explaining the actual gobs of drool he's been treating us to for the past few nights...

More Forced Fun: Slightly More Successful

Mike worked today so it was just me and Baby D. It was a pretty low key day, featuring a nice nap for him and, thus, time for me to get some things done. While I was puttering around the house I had a mild brainstorm: I emptied all the hats, gloves, bags and umbrellas out of my grandmothers old copper washing tub, filled it with water and put all of Donny's bath toys in it. Once he got up from his nap, we went outside and he played in the water while I sat and watched. We listened to some of the 20s and 30s music I've compiled for him--it made for a very nice afternoon

Wherein I Shove Fun Down My Kid's Throat

Today is the day that Mike works until 8pm. That means the boy and I take the bus home together after work/daycare and today I had a brainstorm: why wait for the 77? I'll just walk to the busway and we can get on an EBA. If buses were planets and their routes were orbits, the EBA would be Mercury and the 77 would be more like Mars. ANYhow, we got home in record time and that played right into my plan. Summer is officially over and I had never squirted Donovan with the hose.

We got home, I changed him into his swim diapers and swim trunks, all the while promising "a special fun surprise!" Yeah, that sounds twee but it was sincere: I sure as hell liked getting squirted with the hose, what kid doesn't?

Mine doesn't, apparently. Well, he tolerated it and a few times he sort of smiled, but that big laughing fit I was expecting? Not forthcoming.



When I noticed him shivering, we cut things short and I took him in to change him into a clean, dry diaper. I fed him dinner and then got out the next surefire funfest: Fingerpaints! I've been meaning to buy Donny some fingerpaints for weeks now and I finally remembered to get them yesterday. After he finished eating I cleaned off his tray, taped down some paper and squirted some paint on it. He squished it around, put some in his mouth, wiped his face with the back of his painty hand and then started whining to get down.

Sigh.

At that point, I put him in his playpen. Mike and I didn't intend to make his playpen his favorite place but we unintentionally have put all of his electronic noise making toys in there--the Sesame Street pop up toy that sings 6 different songs, the bilingual maraca that counts to 10 in Spanish, the stuffed toy calculator that sounds like Skee Ball, the "Baby Boom Box" and the quacking duck. Once he's in the playpen, he gets them all going at once--Mixmaster D. And he's very happy.

While he laid down the beats, I prepped the sink and the table for his bath. He was good boy about it, too. By the time Mike got home, the kid had been squirted, painted, fed, bathed, dried, dressed and entertained. Not bad, if I do say so myself.

Transitioning

Just got back from San Francisco, which is where the Society of American Archivists had their conference this year. It was great to see everyone and to actually be out after dark. And there were some good conference sessions too, I suppose...

But just as I'm transitioning back into the workaday world, Donny is transitioning into his new room at daycare. He is officially out of Infant 2 and into the next room--is it called Toddlers 1? I'm not really sure. Anyhow, as it was his first day, Mike and I both dropped him off and it was traumatic, not for Donny but for me. First, when we got there, it was loud with shrieking and screaming. One little girl was having a serious meltdown while over half the kids in the room were having their hands washed and were being herded out the door (I found out later some of the older kids have breakfast in that room in the morning and we got there right as they were leaving). Poor Donovan was very quiet but he clung to me and, when I went to put him down, he started to whimper. I had to hold him awhile while the new teacher explained how meals and naps are done, where his cubby will be, etc. All the time, my delicate little china doll of a son is burrowing his face into my neck and I'm wondering what the hell I've gotten him into. FINALLY, it calmed down a bit and Donny started squirming a little. I put him down and he walked over to some of the toy shelves to see what was there. He was fine. Me, my cry button got stuck and I sniveled all the way to work.

PLUS: there is ANOTHER kid in that room named Donovan! How crazy is that? I hope his mother doesn't mind when I tell everyone her son's nickname is Stinky or Crazylegs. There's only room for one Donovan and we all know who that is...