Full Disclosure

Today was Saturday and Saturday is Baby Day. Its the day Mike works but Donny and I have off. We usually have a good time on Saturdays.

Usually.

I barked at my 13 month old son today--he really wanted to take a nap but he wouldn't. The whining, the whining, it went on and on. For well over an hour. I had taken him out of his crib into our bed and, usually, he tires himself out there just sort of rolling around. I finally just took him off the bed, sat him down on a pile of dirty laundry and said, "WHAT do you WANT? WHAT IS IT that you WANT?" That doesn't look so bad on paper but I guess I have A Tone because he looked hurt and then started really crying. I finally took him downstairs to play some more, which he did while whining. When Mike got home he noticed a fourth tooth coming in up top so maybe that's part of it but I don't know. And maybe I'm imagining it, but I don't think Donovan made eye contact with me the rest of the night. Not until after dinner at least. He was all smiles and laughs for Dad. I'm torn between feeling guilty and cheesed off.

With that combination of emotions in mind, I present the following list of complaints:

1. I wish my son wouldn't whine so much. Cutting it down to 50% of the time would be nice.

2. I wish he was more affectionate. He's really not at all. Not to me or his Dad. Not even to stuffed animals.

3. I wish my kid liked stuffed animals.

4. I wish my kid didn't have to "spike" all his toys. Currently that's how he plays with everything: pick it up, gather some strength, slam it down, repeat. And since he doesn't like stuffed animals, he's spiking blocks, puzzle pieces, little battery operated keyboards, big battery operated bilingual talking drums--lots of heavy things that make crashing noises.

5. I wish the developmental specialists would have been more forthcoming about where Donny is developmentally. This whole, "We don't look at milestones, we look at progress" thing is bullshit. The hell they don't look for milestones. They make their living off of milestones. I bet they all have stock in that horrible Baby Einstein company.

6. I wish one damn store in Allegheny County carried shoes in Donovan's size. Allow me to correct that: I wish one damn store in Allegheny County carried shoes in Donovan's size for under $45 dollars. You heard me right. I don't spend that much for shoes for myself and my feet are much bigger.

In all fairness, Donny's list might look something like this:

1. Enough with the oatmeal, Ma. Seriously. Enough.

2. What's with the terrible radio station? Didn't you download all sorts of good music for me?

3. Pick your own nose--leave mine alone.

4. Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss: save it for someone who reciprocates.

5. All the other ladies make big excited faces when they talk to me. My own mother and you're so blase. Makes me wonder if you even care.

6. And for the last time: The Sippy Cup Is Not An Option.

Hopefully we'll both sleep it off.

Petting Zoo Withdrawl

The University where I work recently formalized its choice of mascot. For years, most folks thought the mascot was a Scottie dog but, officially speaking, we never had a mascot.

Now we do: A Scottie Dog. And the University has been given an 8 week old scottie puppy who will be the actual mascot.

I got to go to a luncheon for the lady who bred and raised the pup--I was hoping to meet the puppy today but she's too tired from her trip. I might get to meet her next week and I'm seriously geeked.

When I was growing up in Elyria--in a not-wealthy-but-nice neighborhood--it seemed like there were always puppies and kittens around. The kittens were usually strays and the puppies usually belonged to someone. Nowadays, you don't see that as much. I know that's good: overpopulation of dogs and cats only brings misery and I'm sure I'm seeing fewer puppies and kittens because more people are spaying and neutering their animals. All this is good.

But I miss the kittens. And the puppies. We are going to have to make a real effort for Donovan to grow up with and around animals.

Me, Bob Dylan and Queen Victoria

Today was my birthday today and it was very, very nice. My husband got me a biography of Evelyn Nesbit that I did'nt even know existed and, when he got home from work, he brought me a burnt almond torte from Whole Foods. Donovan gave me the best gift a one year old can give his mother which is a nap that lasted from 10:30 until 2:00pm. While he slept I was able to mop the kitchen floor with some ammonia, do laundry, make cornbread and do some inital weeding in the front yard. Once the boy woke up there was playing to be done and a walk to take. My friend Kirsten offered an evening of babysitting for my birthday, which meant Mike and I got to go to Gooski's together for the first time since...well, since my birthday last year.

My folks called today and when my Mom asked what I was up to tonight, I told her, "I'm trying to decide between going someplace fancy or just going to Gooski's" "Go to Gooskis--get reaquainted with each other." I love my Mom.

Now its time to get some cake: Hot. Damn.

The Art of Walking

Mike and Donny and I went for a little "walk" last night. I use the quotes because Donovan is not really walking on his own yet but he's getting damn close. You'll note in the above photo that he's holding onto Dad with one hand. It's fun to watch him--every step he takes, he gets this wild look on his face, like, "I did it! Holy Shit, I did it again! AND AGAIN!!!"
When I see that look, my heart fills with love and the listening room in my head is filled with variations on this. You have to listen to the end to hear the part that I've been hearing.

I Think I'm Raising A Monster

Full Disclosure: I don't know anything about babies. I certainly don't know how to raise them. That the doctors at West Penn let us take Donny home without so much as a paralell parking test is still shocking to me and, 13 months into it all, I still think I'm winging it.

That all being said, I used some babyfree time yesterday (Donny spent Saturday with the Pittsburgh Grandparents) reading my babyfood cookbooks. One of them made some mention of sleep training and I thought, "Hmm: Should we be doing that?"

Here's the thing: Percentagewise, Donovan's sleep habits are fine. We put him down, he usually wakes up once, we go in and reinsert his binkston and all is well. Now and then there's a high maintenance night, usually due to teething.

Here's the other thing: Putting Donny to bed can be the best part of the day. I like his nursery, I like holding him, we still give him a nighttime bottle (is that so wrong?) and I do feel like my time with him is so limited. That's not working mom guilt, that's just facts: he's at daycare from 9 until 5:30. That's 8 1/2 hours, folks, and a couple of hours after that are just the getting home mess.

I realize we're going to have to let him learn to soothe himself soon. He's up to 18 pounds now and, soon, I won't be able to carry him around anymore. Not easily at least. If I put him in his crib asleep for a few more weeks, he won't turn into Norman Bates, will he?

Get Out Your Dreambooks...

I called my folks tonight. Mom said she had had two dreams about me. "In the first one, you were a toddler. Mr. Pletcher [our archnemesis neighbor: more on that someday if you buy me a drink] had you over on their porch across the street and he was lovin' you up saying, "You don't have to go home, you don't have to go home" and I was seething!" Dream #2: "You had had a baby girl and when I asked you were Donovan was, you said, "I don't know. I can't watch him all the time!"

Only Love Can Break Your Heart, Pt. 2

Our cat Nina died today.

That may come as a shock to some people but those who know us will remember that last year she was diagnosed with cancer and given 2 months to live. She got in close to 9. She hadn't been feeling well and had stopped eating. We were torn between upsetting her (and, frankly, our budget) with a trip to the vet and watching her go down hill. This morning when I woke up she was sleeping in her usual spot behind my legs. Last night she sat on my lap for a long time letting me pet her. While we were at work today she went down in the basement, found a secluded spot and slipped away.

Anyone who's lost a pet knows how awful it is. Anyone who's never had a pet may not realize that its worth getting your heart broken every 4-6 years or so.