Blog Archive: April 12th

Massive FAIL!

Yesterday afternoon it was a really nice day out, the hubby was home, so we decided to dress Baby u p to take her to Sears for some photos. We get there and there is *no one* to be seen anywhere. I ask next door and the guy at the optometrist counter says that she is gone, she might be back in 15 minutes, and refuses to help beyond that. Way to go, dude. You work in customer service, do you think you want to try to strive for something beyond mediocrity? But I digress...

I get someone to page the associate but she doesn't show up so hubby and I go do some shopping and find the most adorable dress and a pair of baby sunglasses! We go back to the photo store 30 minutes after we originally showed up. She is still not there. The security guy happened to show up and he very kindly went outside to find her, where she was cluelessly taking another smoke break. I guess this place never has walk-ins. The woman *STANK* of cigarette smoke, not helpful in her line of work, but I imagine that her supervisor has no problem with this since she was also outside smoking with her. Which reminds me: how much do you have to be smoking if you are smoking outside and you still smell like someone sprayed you with Eau de Gross? I don't think I ever smelled that bad back when I smoked...

We wake the munchkin up and try to get some photos taken... and she refuses to participate. I don't just mean not wanting to sit there, but she is arching her back, spitting out her pacifier, and SCREAMING bloody murder even though I'm right there next to her. After half an hour of this, we decide to come back some other time, so we put her in the carseat and...

She goes right to sleep. I guess she didn't like the chair they were trying to put her in. I hope this doesn't happen next week when we try again!

Update: We went back the next day and got the manager who was fantastic, and charming and got Gabby to take the best photos. Cigarette girl was nowhere in sight, thank goodness.

Feeding Time!

I received this email from "What to Expect..." coincidentally on the same day that I decided to try feeding Gabby cereal. Turns out, she was ready for solids a couple of weeks ago! We got some rice cereal at Babies R Us yesterday and tried it when we got home. I stripped her down to her diaper and sat her up in her Bumbo seat (sorry, no pictures!) and we started eating. At first she didn't know what to do with her mouth but figured out very quickly that she could open her mouth and swallow. She still had that tongue reflex to push the food out of her mouth instead of swallowing it, so there was cereal all over the place. She did enjoy it though and we're going to try again tonight.

Month by Month

Ready for Solids? The Three Signs

Sometime between four and six months, your baby may show an interest in what's on your plate. Here's what to look for before starting your baby on solids.

As your baby nears the four-month marker,another famous first is quickly approaching: Your baby's first taste of solid food! (okay, mushy food!) Although cultural and generational habits vary (your mother may tell you that you started chowing down at two weeks of age), most pediatricians suggest that you introduce cereals and purees when your baby is between four and six months old. If your baby or anyone in your family has allergies or sensitivities to food, you'll want to wait until the six-month mark, and then tread carefully when the solids start, following the advice of your pediatrician. How can you tell when your baby is ready to plunge into the world of solid foods? Watch for these three signs:

• Head held high. While your baby doesn't need to be able to sit independently in order to expand her culinary repertoire, she does need to be able to hold her head up well on her own, and sit — supported — without slumping over.
• Tongue untied. See if she'll accept a spoon. In young babies, the tongue-thrust reflex helps keep foreign objects out of their mouths, and if she's not ready to be spoon-fed, she might push out that spoon coming her way — even one that's laden with yummy bananas or tasty rice cereal. Once she outgrows the tongue-thrust reflex, she'll be able to eat solids more successfully.
• Eager eyes. A baby who's ready for solids may show great interest in grown-ups' meals — she may even try to grab herself a bite right off your plate!

Blog Archive: March 11th

The Demon Within

This is another post, in part, about baby poop. I am simply amazed at the ability of a being, who subsists on milk from the boob or the bottle, to produce so much foul-smelling poop.

We were at church on Sunday -- and no, lightning did not strike me down -- for a relative's christening. Baby is one of only two girls born to my generation of cousins who currently live in the US. During the actual baptism part with the oil and the holy water, she started farting on the person who was holding her. Now, this kid farts like a champ and as loudly and foully as an adult who has eaten something unfortunate. I see some giggling going on in that pew... and then she is hastily passed back to me. Seems she not only decided to do more than fart, but it also leaked. Luckily I had brought extra blankets and clothes. Hubby and I hasten to another part of the church and change her diaper bracing ourselves for the howling that usually accompanies this exercise... and nothing. It seems like she was awed by the presence of the Holy Spirit or something because she just lay there and allowed herself to be cleaned up with ice cold baby wipes.

That was her first outing that wasn't to the pediatrician's or to that pit of hell known as Babies R Us. We all had a great time because she was the star of the show -- not the kid who was being baptized. Fine by me; I got to relax and let other people have all of the fun. She even (gasp!) wore a dress for the occasion and thank goodness my brother had actually bought her one since I hate frills of any sort. She's going to have to rely on the kindness of others for girly stuff 'cause Mommy doesn't play that.

We have a routine down at home that revolves around her sleeping and eating schedule. She eats every two hours for about 35 minutes (breastfeeding) and then will either sleep or we will play for a little while. We haven't ventured outside yet since it's just getting warm, but I've been enjoying a resurgence in low-level migraines because my eating schedule is so erratic. So the plan is to venture to get my allergy shot tomorrow afternoon in between feedings and perhaps take a walk around the neighborhood. The parasite -- because she really still is one -- is starting to develop the ability to emotionally manipulate her parents, which means she sleeps in the bed with us and every howl is met with immediate attention. I have to start breaking her into a public-ready child though since daycare is looming in mid-May. She is a delight though: today I put her in her bassinet with a little play mirror and she spent half an hour looking at herself and cooing. When she's not sleeping, eating, or pooping, we sit together and "chat" about whatever comes into my head (usually nonsense). Despite her delightfulness, I can't wait till hubby gets home for some actual adult interaction.

Hubby has been a tremendous help, although he insists on waking up for that feeding that usually occurs between 2 and 5 AM even though he has to be at work at 10. As soon as he gets home, he gets to chill for a little while then she is almost exclusively his until midnight or so. I use this time to make myself look like less of a hag, with mixed results. My hair still looks like I'm trying to grow dreadlocks, but I'll fight one small battle at a time. At the moment, I'm just fucking around even though I feel like I should be doing laundry or something but I'm so tired!

Happy Father's Day!

Yesterday was our first Father's Day and I woke up at 8 (!!!) and made Bill breakfast (!!!!!!!). Seriously, this is a MAJOR ACCOMPLISHMENT. I love to sleep.

Gabby and I then got in the car and went to the Farmer's Market to get some vegetables for dinner, then we went to the mall and bought a Father's Day present, then we got her ears pierced. Miss Madam was PISSED when Kara, the nice lady at Claire's who pierced her ears (eventually) and I were trying to hold her still so she could mark the spot. After fifteen minutes where she was screaming theatrical bloody murder, I took her back out to the car, made up a bottle, and fed her. While she was still eating, I took her back into the store and we accomplished the marking without further melodrama. She of course screamed and cried real tears with the actual piercing, but she stopped crying faster than she did when she got her shots.

To celebrate the day, we had a family dinner. I cooked lamb chops, roasted mixed vegetables and asparagus, and Uncle Ben provided some wild grain rice. Of course the family took the occasion to share baby stories, much to my chagrin as well as Ryan and Bill. Apparently Gabby's habit of continuing to suck on the empty bottle and screaming when you take it away from her comes from me, not her father. Uncle Michael also took the time to declare that he can't wait till Gabby goes through the Terrible Twos so he can see me lose my cool.

Dream on; that's not likely to happen.

All in all, it was a great day and Bill thoroughly enjoyed his first Father's Day.

Why Grandparents are Awesome

Even the one who wants to be called "Auntie" instead of "Granny" saved our butts this weekend. It was scheduled to be in the high nineties this weekend, with a heat index of 100+. On Saturday evening, the air conditioning decided to conk out and the temperature in the house rapidly climbed up to eighty degrees. I called up Auntie/Granny to invite her to spend the day with Gabby -- at her place. She readily agreed and Bill and I spent the day like landed fish in the hot house, gasping for cool air. Actually, I ventured out to run errands and buy formula, go to the grocery store, etc. I spent 3 hours outside and almost died!

On the other grandparent front, and arguably even more exciting is that Bill's mother has agreed to take care of Gabby during the day, saving us a lot of money and reassuring us that she is with a family member who will smother her with love and attention -- not that she's not getting that at the daycare center, being their darling and all. I told her primary caregiver at the daycare center this morning and her face fell. Gabby the Charmer is apparently her favorite and she is genuinely going to miss her. When I told the center Director, she was borderline rude to me about it; we're not going to miss her in the least.

Of course I forgot to download the pictures on my camera this weekend. My brain is slowly leaking out of my ears...

Some Photos...

Our first day home from the hospital. It went from 75 degrees on the day she was born to sub-zero a few days later and it was pretty cold in the house, so we snuggled.

This is how I feel about the world. What are you going to do about it?

First you put me in a dress, now you want me to take pictures... what the heck, Mom?!?

I have the only Daddy in the whole wide world!

Maybe I am getting used to this dress business...

I am an amazing slacker about getting photos off of my camera. Therefore, Gabby is no older than 2 months old in any of these. My aim this weekend is to be less lazy and at least empty the data card, which has a couple hundred pics on it.

Daycare Darling and Starter Flirting

Gabby loves people. She must get that from her father, 'cause Mommy thinks most people should be put on a desert island and left to their own devices for the most part. This young lady walks into the daycare center in the morning and all of a sudden, people I have never met before are hailing her out and coming over to say hello. She doesn't even spare me a backward glance when I leave her in the charge of her caregivers for the day, she's so busy smiling at them and getting down to the business of being Gabby. This morning, a woman in charge of one of the toddler classrooms came over to say that she just wants to take her home with her. Good luck with that one, lady. The first time she wants a bottle and you don't have it ready in time, you're going to think you had the spawn of Satan on your hands.

Gabby also is learning to flirt with the opposite sex. I've witnessed her doing this thing where she stares at a guy for a second, looks him right in the eye, and then busts out the biggest smile. Then she looks away. I thought it was anomalous the first time she did it, but I've seen her do it again and again, and only with men. Bill better go buy that baseball bat soon.

Blog Archive: March 5th

Eau de Poop

That and eau de spit-up are probably my "natural" odors at this point. Yesterday morning we had a pediatrician's appointment, so while hubby and baby were both still asleep, I got out of bed, showered and put on makeup for the first time since February 15th. I have showered since February 15, in case you're wondering, but I certainly don't look the part on any given day. So I go wake up the hubby and speed-feed the baby -- and by speed-feed I mean she gets a bottle instead of the boob -- and sit her up to burp her. Thank goodness I hadn't gotten dressed yet because, as is always the case with the formula, she spits up. All over my stomach.

As I'm cleaning this up, I hear the gurgling noises that precede a full diaper, so I sit her up so she can be comfortable. That's when it happens: the force of the explosion of gas and poo is too much for the diaper and there is a containment breach. All over my hand. And on my leg. And some even drips on the carpet. Baby poop, for the uninitiated, is the color of yellow curry, the consistency of pea soup, with the smell of raw sewage. I start to cry as she has the most angelic smile on her face. I howl for my husband to come get her and go clean myself up. He thought this was funny as I stood there, freshly applied mascara running down my cheeks.

She was nothing but sweetness and smiles at the pediatrician's office. I was still smelling phantom poop odors.

Blog Archive: February 23

This one was titled: Welcome Gabrielle!

Now that I feel human for about five minutes and daddy is being daddy...

I was bored/nesting on Sunday evening and did a bunch of stuff: did laundry, cooked dinner (curried chicken); and cleaned the bedroom. I started contracting and thought it was just false labor so I took a shower and went to lie down. In retrospect, it was probably that absolutely horrible Knight Rider movie that I had on in the background that did it...

Contractions kept on coming through the night but very irregularly; at best once every 15 minutes, usually about once every 25. The hospitals don't like you to show up too early, so we decided to tough it out. I knew I had a mouth like a sailor sometimes, but some of the stuff that came out of my mouth when I was in pain shocked even me.

I was nauseated so I did a bad thing and wasn't hydrating myself, and the contractions were out of control strong. I had a dr's appt. the next morning anyway, so Bill and I just timed the contractions through the night and took catnaps in between. I'm still in denial at this point of course, until the bloody show makes it's appearance at 8 the next morning along with the previous night's dinner. So we call my doctor and he says come on in for your appointment anyway, let me check you. Contractions are now 6 minutes apart like clockwork and lasting 70 seconds. I am calling for my mommy and chewing on the seatbelt in the car.

Keep in mind that my uterus up until this point had been locked up tighter than a virgin's hymen with a chastity belt on it, so everything is moving very fast. Doctor checks me and says I'm dilated 1 cm and 50% effaced so I should just go to the hospital. Bill and I leave his office and I realize that my cell phone is dead and the charger is at *my* office. We go get that (yes, I am in real pain, but we go to my office) and I leave a note for my intern which freaks her out the next day, and we head up to the hospital. It's noon and I've been in labor for about 14 hours. I decide that I'm going to not kick people when they say "Breathe through the pain, that's it!"

The hospital staff is marvelous; they check me in and I get into a room right away and just let other people take care of me. Hubby is amazing, just sitting there and talking me through the pain. Problem is that they can't find good veins on me because I threw up what little liquid I had tried to drink that morning and am now severely dehydrated. Eventually they get an IV in, and about 2 PM give me something to take the edge off the contractions. This is bliss, but those motherfuckers still hurt. The most marvelous man in the world, the anesthesiologist, shows up at 3 PM and gives me the really good shit. At 3:30, I feel absolutely no pain and just go to sleep while people poke and prod and break my water.

Fast forward to 7 when my OB shows up. I'm only 5 cm dilated, but she hasn't dropped into the birth canal at all so we decide on a c-section. The monitor is showing pretty steady contractions that are almost maxing out the graph for pain. I feel just this pressure, which is good because I don't think I would have been good for the calm of the maternity ward. We wheel in to the OR at 7:35 and she was born at 8:04. She was 7 pounds, 12 ounces, and a perfect 10/10 on the Apgar scale. She came into the world screaming bloody murder -- not that I can blame her, that OR was fucking freezing, and I was convulsing with the cold and the drugs. She is absolutely gorgeous, and is daddy's little girl already.

Other than the pain of walking around after this c-section, everything is pretty okay. She sleeps a lot and is a poop machine. I have good drugs on hand for the pain and sleep when she's sleeping. Except now, since I've been sleeping pretty well.

Blog Archive: February 15th

Was I bitter towards the end there, or what? I posted this 3 days before Gabby arrived, titled:

I Feel like A$$

I had some inflammation in the gum around one of my molars earlier this week and it didn't go away. So, I called up the dentist and got an appointment this morning. Turns out I had cut the gum back there and it got infected and needed to be drained. Fantastic thing to happen 4 days before my due date! I got numbed up on the novocaine, and he cleaned up back there. Now I have some horrible oral pain, a prescription for penicillin and the only pain meds I can take is Tylenol. Tylenol, for the uninitiated, SUCKS ASS AS A PAIN RELIEVER!!!

I want to curl up in a corner and cry for my mommy.

The parasite is also very squirmy and I think she is trying to drop into position, but is failing to do so. Instead, she is finding my bladder and sitting on that, so every 5 ccs that my kidneys filter down there needs to come out stat. I'm so ready for this to be over...

Dedicated to the Pumpkin

To the current titleholder of "Pumpkin" and any future siblings, anyway. Gabrielle Cassandra Gordon Wilson came howling into the world on President's Day, Monday 18 February 2008, at 8:04 PM via Cesarean section. She was 7 pounds, 12 ounces, and 20.25 inches long.


She immediately proceeded to wrap both Mommy and Daddy around her little finger, and used the other nine fingers for other family members and close friends. She is the most wonderful baby two parents could ever hope for, even when she is voicing her displeasure at being made to wait 30 seconds to be fed just because her bottle is being warmed. Seriously, Mommy and Daddy, get your act together!

I will re-post blogs about the Baby Formerly Known as the Parasite that I posted over on my pther blog as I get the time to do so.