Off the Charts

I've said it before - Dessa is big. People are constantly surprised when I tell them her age (10 months today. God it flies...). She's tall and she doesn't have a big baby head so she looks more toddler than baby. When she lays on the floor and kicks at her toys I can really see the child she's going to be more than the infant she was. Of course, then the two pictures blend in my mind's eye and I tear up and can't see anything at all. She affects me that way.

We went to see the doctor on Friday for her regular checkup. She's 21.6 lbs (only a 2.6 lb gain from early December - thank goodness she slowed down!) and 30.5 inches. That's 90-something-th percentile for weight but off the chart for height. I didn't even know there was a 100+ percentile. Yet she's only 50th percentile for head circumference. You'd think that'd make for a Zippy the Pinhead look, but it doesn't.

She's started trying to kiss us lately. As with most babies, she does it with her mouth open. So we kiss her, she smiles, then opens her mouth and sort of wobbles her head around, hoping a cheek will fall into it. It's quite cute, actually, except for the fact that if you maneuver yourself into kissing position, she's as likely to bite you as kiss you.

Her teeth confuse her a bit. Last week I let her feed herself lunch. It was not a great success. Dessa is rather a princess and has my patience (read: none) so when she wants something she wants it now and she'd much prefer if you provided it, thanks. Thus, for example, when we give her Cheerios she happily picks them up, plays with them a bit, gets them stuck to her palm and then opens her mouth like a little bird and looks at us with a look that says, "Feed me". The connection between the Cheerio in her hand and her open mouth has not yet been made and she hates having her hands messed with, so we can't push her hand toward her mouth to give her the idea. That pisses her off. So you can imagine exactly how happy she was with a bowl of applesauce, a spoon and... nobody shoveling it into her baby bird mouth. She tried the spoon for a while, eventually trying to eat the wrong end, and then in a fit of pique she picked up the entire bowl and pulled it to her face. Result? Applesauce all down the front of her, all over the high chair tray and very little in her mouth.

I had anticipated this, so timed the self-feeding extravaganza for just before bath time. It's going to take a while before she gets the hang of it. We'll keep working on it. For now...

I'll just take more blackmail pictures.
Posted by GoddessKristin on 03/31/08 at 10:43 AM [link]

Her Own Two Feet

I know Easter was several days ago, but I've just now had time to deal with the pictures I took. For some reason, although I took about 97 shots of Dessa in her Easter finery with her Easter basket... only one was really decent.

The rest sort of look like this:



Dessa had a great time on Easter, and was visited by the Easter Bunny several times over. The Bunny Man brought the Elmo basket at our house, complete with two books. Nana found a white bunny plushie with matching slippers that Dessa won't be able to wear until she's about 4, but cute all the same. Auntie AC brought a Tinkerbell basket with a talking book and a toy pig that appears to have epileptic seizures when you push his nose. It's odd, but Dess laughs at it uproariously which is the important thing. Auntie Bean came up with a blue bunny that sings a very loud Easter version of Buster Poindexter's "Hot Hot Hot" and also has an off switch, thank the Lord. It seems like when I was a kid only a few toys made noise and now that I'm a parent they all do, but my memory might be a bit off.

Anyway, it was Grandma and Cousin Z who made the big splash with this toy:



Dess has gotten to the point where she wants to stand up all the time but she doesn't quite have the coordination to do it on her own so she has to lean on things. That could include furniture, people, toys... hell, she'd lean on the cats if they'd just stand still long enough. This toy has locks on the wheels so it doesn't take off without the baby when she leans on it, though of course we stay behind her at all times because she could tip the thing over and has, on occasion, attempted to. The kid is fascinated with the undersides of things and flips everything over to have a good look. I worry about this tendency of hers when she hits high school but I guess we'll have had "The Talk" before then and I will have to emphasize the importance of not flipping any of the boys over to check them out. We'll just have to keep her in interesting toys until that day comes.

That's my baby, standing all on her own. Excuse me, I have to go cry a little, now.
Posted by GoddessKristin on 03/27/08 at 10:34 AM [link]

But Just in Case, I'll Stock Up on Garlic

This teething thing can be the pits, you know? I feel bad for my poor kid, and yet, sometimes she's so damn funny I can't help laughing at her. At the moment she's sobbing her poor exhausted little heart out in bed because (awful mother that I am) I'm sort of putting my foot down about the need for a nap. But before you call Child Services on me, rest assured that I spent a goodly amount of time rocking the baby and soothing her and calming her, as well as administering Orajel, which is my secret weapon these days.

While I was rocking her (the first time), she was actually starting to settle down. She knows the nap routine and plays her part quite well. Upstairs we go, usually we say goodnight to Daddy - assuming he's in his office - then I close the blinds in her bedroom and lastly I close the door. As if on cue, as I close the door, Dessa rubs her eyes. Even if she's not overly tired, she rubs her eyes. Drama queen.

Then we sit in the glider and I sing to her, or tell her a little story or whatever and she begins the fight. Oh the wailing and fussing and sobbing that ensues! All while her little head is resting on my shoulder, mind you. If the wailing goes on long enough and my shirt sleeve gets soaked enough I remember that she's teething (I'm a shit mom, let's face it) and administer Orajel. Then we rock and I sing and she fusses some more but generally she calms down a bit. She did today. But her new thing is to calm down for a few seconds and then pop her head up and look around like she's never seen her room before. Which is exactly what she did. Pop! Up came her head, but this time she pushed against me so she was looking right into my eyes, and then she smiled a little and said, "Mama".

I swear to God I think this time she knew what she was saying. She didn't go on with "mamamama" and she was making eye contact and I need the boost today, so go with me on this. My heart filled and I hugged her tight and then continued trying to settle her down. It wasn't going so well, but after a few minutes I put her in the crib and exited, stage right.

As per usual, she screamed and hollered and banged her feet against the crib, which makes it sound rather like there's a WWF wrestling match going on in there. Sometimes that's the precursor to sleep and other times I have to return to her room and soothe a bit more. This is one of those times. After about 10 minutes of this nonsense, I went back in to soothe her again.

Back into the glider we went, me rocking and sitting and patting her back and Dessa... throwing a conniption fit. Finally, after a few minutes, she began to quiet down, nestled her wee small head into the crook of my neck... and bit me. Hard.

"Ouch! You little vampire!"

I couldn't help it. It came out before I could stop myself. I sat her up, looked at her and... she grinned at me. She is diabolical. I had to laugh, because really - what else can you do when you're raising a child of the night?

Back again into the crib and... back again with the screaming. I don't get it at all. If someone was insisting that I lay down and go to sleep right now I wouldn't argue, you know? But that's just me. The wailing was definitely kicked up a notch this time and there were actual tears and God it just sucks when they cry like that!

This time Dave tried to calm her down (wisely he zipped up his pullover to protect his neck from Count Dessula). He rocked, he sang, he patted. He's good at this and even so, Dessa was amped - her crying went even more over the top than before.

So Vampire Baby is currently sitting on my office floor, happy as can be, checking out the view. No tears, no wails, no nothing. Content. Happy, even. Every time I look over at her, she grins her toothy little grin at me and laughs. She knows she won. She knows it.

Is there some special trick to getting vampires to sleep that I haven't heard about?
Posted by GoddessKristin on 03/25/08 at 02:36 PM [link]

Who'd Even Take Her, If She's Gonna Be Like That?

I read about an Italian lullaby the other day that cracked me up. The Italian goes:

Nanna O, Nanna O
Il mio bambino a chi lo do?
Lo daro al suo angliolino
Che lo tenga fino al matino

Roughly translated, it means:

Lullaby, lullaby
Who shall I give my baby to?
I'll give him to his little angel
Who'll keep him 'til morning.

The mother in this lullaby goes on to offer her offspring to a cherubio (little cherub), the befana (an ugly but kindly witchy sort of person), and my personal favorite, Gesu e Maria (Jesus and Mary, who, if truly available for babysitting gigs would, in fact, be the best choice don't you think?).

I suppose the idea is that the mother is putting the baby to sleep and while said child is snoozing, she wants someone (preferably someone supernatural) to watch over her sweet infant. But - and this may be my own circumstances talking here - I cannot shake the conviction that in fact the mother is shopping her kid around all, "Hey, who can I pawn this kid off on? Well, maybe Jesus'll take him off my hands!"

And I can't say I blame her sometimes.

When Dessa is throwing a fit, usually because we're doing something awful like warming a bottle so she can't have it right this second, oh my GOD the horror!, I often joke over her howls that yes, we probably are the worst parents in the world and next we're going to leave her out on the curb for the gypsies. And we all have a laugh and get on with our lives because, of course, there are no gypsies in Fremont, more's the pity.

One does wish for a roving band of gypsies when one's child, just for example, will not go to sleep even though one's child is so overexhausted that she has deep circles under her eyes. This scenario has been playing out more and more often in our house this past week. Dess is cutting her top teeth and it's been harder for her than the bottom two were. Simultaneously, she has decreed that morning naps are for sissies and there will be no more of them for her, thankyouverymuch. The combination is brutal.

Today, for example, she was rubbing her eyes and throwing herself around like a rag doll at nine-thirty in the morning. That would have been a good time for a nap, right? Thought so. But knowing my child as I do, I knew it was too early and that, in fact, she wouldn't actually sleep if I tried right then. So I gave her a bath, toweled her off gently, rubbed in that good-for-nothing sleepytime lavender scented lotion, put on clean clothes, rocked her and settled her in her crib.

The screaming started right about the time I started rocking her. She knows, you see. So I rocked, and she struggled, and I rocked and she yelled, and I rocked and she settled down for about 45 seconds and then oh! The lamp! Can I reach it? And oh! The chair! Can I touch the back of it? And oh! Mommy's necklace! Can I eat it? And oh! Mommy's zipper! Can I...

No, you may not. And into the crib she went.

Thus commenced 35 minutes of yowling, singing, babbling, screaming and rolling around. When I finally gave up and went in to get her, she had the audacity to grin at me. Little shit.

I fed her some lunch, hosed her down again (lunch was some broccoli - which we know how much she loves, right? - and some banana, which she adores so much that it gets freaking everywhere) and then, after a few minutes digestive time, tried sleep again.

This time it was all out war. She screamed, she struggled, she cried. And then I remembered - Tylenol. And Orajel. The kid is teething and when she has nothing else to distract her, the teeth hurt. So I dosed her up, plunked her in the crib and...

She screamed. And cried. And threw a fit. And then, by some miracle... she seems to have fallen asleep. Either that or the gypsies really showed up and took her away because it's been quiet in there for 10 solid minutes. I'm not about to check and risk waking her up. All I can say is if it's the gypsies? I owe them, big time.

[Edited to add: Yeah, well, the gypsies only kept her for half an hour. Apparently she was too much for them, too.]
Posted by GoddessKristin on 03/16/08 at 12:51 PM [link]

Mumbles or Mama?

How one defines a child's first word is a pretty sketchy business, I think. Some hail the first syllables as words, willing to attribute genius to the child immediately (I know of a California couple who joked that their 8 month old daughter spoke French because the infant was constantly going, "Vous! Vous!"). Others wait until it's clear that the baby is attaching meaning to the word they are uttering (in which case it's arguable that George Bush still hasn't uttered his first word - ka ching! Thanks! I'll be here all week).

I bring up this philosophical quandary because I mentioned a couple of posts ago that Dessa is saying "Mama" now but admittedly I believe that's rather an exaggeration. The truth is that she gets going but doesn't quite know where to stop. It's kind of like when I write "banana" sometimes and wind up with "bananana". Dessa will be sitting around and suddenly out pours "Mamamamamama". I try to answer her, so that she gets the idea that when she says Mama, she is asking for my attention, but I don't know if any of that is getting through.

It can't help that I often sit around saying "MMMMamamamama" at her to try to get her going. I suspect she thinks I'm a whack job these days, with my senseless repetitions. Sometimes she repeats after me and sometimes she doesn't. See for yourself who is the smarter one in this family.

Posted by GoddessKristin on 03/12/08 at 09:02 AM [link]

SuperMom

I have been a very busy beaver! I have proof positive that I am a super terrific and nifty Mom and probably I should win some sort of award even if it's just a self-congratulatory nod. Everybody needs a pat on the back, after all, and this kind of effort deserves recognition, no?

See that!? That is a lot of vegetables. That is vegetables cooked, put through the Cuisinart, strained for lumps, spooned into cleaned Gerber baby food containers and then popped into the freezer as though I were the terribly secret love child of Betty Cocker and Martha Stewart. Here we have carrots, broccoli and cauliflower (which Dessa gobbles right up) straight from the farmer's market (at least the cauliflower is. The rest was on sale at Safeway but I cleaned it really well. Gimme a break). It's a veritable rainbow of vitamins, minerals and general-Good-For-Ya and also it is far cheaper than buying the processed stuff. So I am doing right by my baby and by my pocketbook! One feels so virtuous!

All I gots to say is that that is a shelf full 'o love right there.

And then, on the very next lower shelf? Well, there's gotta be some lovin' fer Mama, right?


Posted by GoddessKristin on 03/11/08 at 09:34 AM [link]

Torchwork

Turns out I'm more like my Dad than even I thought possible. I spent most of today playing with video editing software - such fun! My Dad, when he passed away, was midway through converting hours and hours and hours (I'm cannot exaggerate how many hours) of videotape to DVD format. Fortunately I have a lot of his work already burned onto DVDs so much of my envisioned epic is already available to me without the tedium of conversion. There are 8MM films from the late 60's, analog video from the mid-70's through the 90's, digital video taken until just a few weeks before Dad died, slides that have been converted to slide shows... a lot of memories, a lot of people now lost.

But there aren't as many pictures of my Dad as the hours of video would lead you to think there should be. He was always behind the camera, you see. So while, yes, there are short shots of him, these are disproportionately few (and there are a very high number of shots of people walking away from him. Home movies are like that. 20 years of people's asses at Disneyland...).

I feel like the torch has been passed to me now. There are a bunch of movies that Dave and I have taken over the years, and now all the video of Dessa... and I have a lot of ideas and a decent sense of music (at least I like to think so)... and in going through the past 9 months of video, there's precious little videotaped evidence that Dessa has a Mommy.

Of course, today she started saying "Mamamamama" so I think my corporeal reality is sufficiently entrenched in her itty bitty baby mind. For now, at least.

Here's a quick sample of what my nifty new software can do. I hope it's just the beginning.

Posted by GoddessKristin on 03/06/08 at 05:24 PM [link]