Archive | May, 2011

I Hope Never to See It Again

21 May

There are going to be times when I just don’t live up to my aspirations in this whole parenthood thing, but today something happened that I really need to vent about. It’s probably going to sound silly, but I don’t care. I was outside, playing with Dagny while James tried to figure out why the power locks and windows weren’t working on the Maxima. We ran around, poked an ant pile, pretended Dagny was driving the car (to the post office if you must know,) and chased a wild rabbit across the neighbor’s yard.

Then I scooped her up and started twirling around. Her head was thrown back and I watched her hair fly as I swung her around and around. Oh how I love the sound of her laughs piercing the evening air. I looked over to the yard as I twirled us over into the grass. I didn’t notice her silence beneath my own “wheeeeee’s.”

Then I looked down and saw the most awful face of sheer terror that I have ever seen. Something had gone very wrong. My beautiful baby girl was turning deep red and her mouth was stiffened into a teeth-baring grimace. It was as if she had sucked in a breath and was holding it in with every cell in her body. Every tendon in her neck and outstretched arms was standing at attention beneath her delicate skin as she trembled like plucked rubberband. I felt like a hot air balloon whose air had been sucked out in an instant and was plummeting to earth. I swung her upright and crushed her to me saying, “It’s alright, I’m here I’m here.”

In those brief…ever so brief moments I almost felt as if I was losing contact with Earth. Everything around me went black and all I saw or felt or heard or smelled was her. I waited for the trembling to stop and prepared myself to look her in the face. All was well, and I released the breath I didn’t know I was holding. “What happened,” I asked, “Did you get dizzy?” “Aw-aw,” she offered up her lazy version of affirmation. And then, just like that she was wriggling out of my arms and running around laughing right before my eyes. I, on the other had, was not so easily repaired. I fought back tears as I tried to process everything that had just happened. Those awful seconds were my fault. I had done that to her. I didn’t mean to, but I looked away for those moments and when I looked back…well, what I saw is not something I will soon forget.

Pooptastic Good Times!

18 May

So there we were, me out of clean diapers and Bode up to his armpits in poop. Thank goodness I realized what was going on before the poop soaked clear through his clothes and into my nice, new, white-beige carpet. Sigh. This kid has a butt crack that was divinely designed to launch poop right out of a diaper, be it cloth or paper. As in… We. Have. Liftoff.

I managed to get him stripped down without spreading too much of it around and without getting any in his hair. Score!

Lucky thing I like to carry an old ratty diaper around for use as a burp cloth. I wrapped his little tooshie in the burp cloth diaper and proceeded to give him a wet-wipe sponge bath. A final sniff to make sure he was clean and voila! Today may now proceed…

I’m One of Those People

14 May

Well, today I did something rather uncouth. I changed my son’s poopy diaper on the floor in the clothing department in Target. Let me paint you a picture of how this went down. Both of my kids are pretty much out of clothes to wear. Everything is either too small or too hot to wear in these Spring temperatures. I took both kids to Target this morning. We stopped to run an errand on the way so by the time we arrived it was lunchtime. Also, Dagny had to pee. Have I mentioned we went cold turkey on diapers about a week ago? Yeah. So when she says, “Pee pee” I say, “How high?” Or something like that. We visited the family restroom. Thank you Target in Harmar for providing a family restroom, I love you guys for that! Next up, the snack bar. We ate lunch and made friends with another little family sitting nearby. Finally, around 30 minutes after we arrived we managed to actually start shopping. We cut through the $1 Spot or whatever they call it and then beelined for the kids clothes. Clearance signs were everywhere and my head was spinning. I had Dagny on a leash that was tied to the stroller so she could walk. As I perused the sale racks as best I could given the circumstances, she methodically removed clothing from any rack she could get her hands on. And threw them on the floor. Approximately every 10 seconds she would start fussing, whining, crying, whatever you want to call it because she had either thrown her ball out of range or she wanted off the leash. I was finding it incredibly hard to concentrate because at the same time, Bode was squealing. Then it happened. I heard the telltale rumble-squirting that means it’s time for another trip to the potty. Argh! I had just gotten to the damned clothes department! I started whipping through the clothes as fast as I could. Almost as if it was a competition, Dagny stepped up her game with the removing clothes and throwing them on the floor. She also started shoving random clothes into the stroller basket. Somewhere in the midst of replacing the clothes, I completely forgot Bode had just dropped the atom bomb in his pants. Suddenly he was on pace for a complete meltdown at any given moment and I remembered! SON OF A…! So I said screw it. I laid him out on the floor and changed his diaper, using up the last 3 wet wipes I had in the diaper bag. Meanwhile some lady is trying to lean around my stroller to get to the clearance rack I’ve take up residence next to and Dagny is removing clothes from hangers like it’s her job. I get Bode put back together and some how finagle Dagny into riding in the stroller. At this point I realize we need to head home because it’s pretty much naptime and I’m entering the danger zone. So I race around, throwing items willy nilly into the basket. Finally we’re out of there and I’ve been watching Dags because she’s on the brink of falling asleep in the stroller.We make it to the car before she nods off (WIN!) and I lift her up to put her in the car seat. She is soaked. Poor kiddo was covered in pee. She was too tired to tell me she had to go, I imagine and just emptied her bladder in the stroller seat. The $200 stroller seat. Deep breaths. DEEP BREATHS. I changed her into some clean panties right there in the parking lot but unfortunately I had no replacement shirt. She was in a dress and all I had in the diaper bag were a pair of jeans. So I folded up her dress, plopped her in the car seat, and off we went. She fell asleep on the way home, which means there’s a 50-50 chance that naptime is a bust. I managed to get her home, carry her to bed and even get a diaper over her panties without her waking up. I’m thinking to myself that I’m home free, so I go downstairs to get Bode ready for HIS nap. I get everything unloaded from the car and the cold stuff put away. I take Bode upstairs, zip him into the woombie and settle in to the rocking chair to nurse him. Just as he starts to nod off Dagny starts wailing in her room. At this point I’m pretty sure Bode is asleep but it’s likely he’ll wake right up if I detach him from the boob and try to lay him down. Dags is escalating so I take a chance. He seems OK so I go into her room and she’s a freaking mess. She won’t even let me touch her and she is crying hard. Finally I just scoop her up and try to get her to come back to reality. Her diaper is wet. I take it off and she’s still sobbing and shaking. At this point I’m starting to freak out. Did a bug crawl in her ear? Did a deadly spider bite her somewhere? WHAT IS WRONG WITH HER!? So I just start grilling her. Do you have to go potty? Do you have an owie? Are you scared? Do you have an owie? Do something hurt? What happened? Do you have an owie? Are you hungry? DING DING DING. She says yes. She wants milk. At this point, I know I have to calm her down because we have to walk right past Bode’s room and in her hysterical state there’s no way he was sleeping through that. So I start talking to her about different kinds of food and any time I mention something other than milk she starts spiraling back into hysterics. This kid is a wreck. I need to get her the damned milk. So I just walk as fast as I can past Bode’s room and down the stairs. Right about the time I’m handing her a donut hole I hear Bode start to cry…

So you’re thinking about having a second baby are ya? ;) I give you 4 months before you’re changing his or her diaper on the floor in the middle of Target.

His & Hers Stress

11 May

So last night I had this seemingly simple revelation. First let me backtrack a little bit. All of my life I’ve been really stiff. Not just in terms of my sense of humor either. I can’t touch my toes. When I sit cross-legged on the floor my knees are closer to my shoulders than they are to the floor. You know, stuff like that. I am the polar opposite of flexible. I’ve been this way as long as I can remember. In fact, I distinctly remember in elementary school, most likely the 3rd grade we did this thing called the sit and reach probably as part of the President’s Fitness Challenge or something. I think I got the worst results of any one in my grade. Furthermore, I am not what anyone would call “athletic.” In fact, I’m better described as physically awkward, clumsy, etc. In contrast, my husband is naturally gifted in the physical abilities department. He can easily pick up just about any type of athletic activity and perform well on his first try. It is MADDENING.

So I come home from yoga at least once a month with some crazy revelation or new threshold I’ve crossed. Then I’ll tell James all about it and ask him to see if he can do it. In particular, the most recent thing this happened with was baddha konasana in the prone position. I am not kidding when I say the pain was as close to the pain of childbirth that I have ever experienced while not actually birthing a child. We did it a second time in class last night and it was WAY easier for me the second time, although I’m still in need of propping my torso up on 2 bolsters. I was ecstatic and trying to convey my excitement to James after class. Blank stares. Finally I just made him try the damn pose and wouldn’t you know, the poophead went right into it with no problem. I have little doubt that he could probably get into just about any pose with very little remediation necessary. The same poses that will most likely take me decades to master.

So last night while I was grumbling to myself about his apparent flexibility, it dawned on me that while he doesn’t carry his stress in his muscles, per se…he does have other stress-related problems that I do not. His stress manifests within his digestive system. He gets killer stomach aches and has been battling other digestive ailments his entire life. It was like the proverbial light bulb. Wait a second. Proverbial? Is cartoonial a word?

Anyway, I believe that realization was a breakthrough in my yoga practice. I believe this will help me be more at peace with my body’s capabilities. I think it will help me focus more on what I can achieve rather than comparing myself to Gumby over there, 2 mats down.

I think it is also a reminder that stress is a nasty bastard. If you ignore it, it WILL get you. One way. Or another.

Home Again, Home Again…

6 May

So last week our little family of 4 travelled out to Denver together. James had planned this business trip to coincide with an upcoming product release and we decided to make it a family affair this time. Of COURSE the product release was pushed back, but that is neither here nor there.

I got to see my Colorado mom friends…the women who’s community held me up through my first year of motherhood. It was freaking awesome to see everyone and kinda pretend I still live there for the week.

Anyhow, we had a fabulous time but we messed up our sleep schedules even more than they already are in the process. So this week has been an exercise in getting ourselves back on track. I am pretty pleased with what we’ve accomplished so far, which is basically that I’ve been getting to bed before 1am and getting up within the 7 o’clock hour. I’d say I’ve been getting about 7 hours of sleep each night (ignoring feedings,) which is FANTASTIC. Bode went about 2 weeks where he slept right through the night, but now he’s waking 1 or 2 times again. I think it’s related to the quality of his daytime naps, which has suffered over the past 2 weeks. I’m buckling down and making them a priority this week and sure enough, his nighttime sleep has also improved. Slowly, but I’ll take what I can get.

All that focus on sleeping around here has left little time to blog or even think up things to blog about. But one thing I wanted to just touch on, is my evolving feelings about Denver and Pittsburgh.

I realized while I was out west last week that although the weather is ideal and the geography is my favorite of any place I’ve lived, what really ties me to Denver is my happy memories of that place. All of the best memories of my life so far have made their home in Denver. So when I go there, everywhere I look there is something to remind me of the good times we had. I know that we will still make more good memories out west, hopefully on the ski slopes with our kidlets. I also know that good times will happen here in Pittsburgh too.

Another thing that I realized is how much I looked forward to coming home, our home…the home that we own. I love this house and I foresee lots of beautiful memories forming here. I also am starting to see possibilities for new friendships all around, as well as developing an appreciation of the friendships I’ve already begun through my dabblings in social media.

Life is good, people. Not even the rain can get me down. It reminds me of days spent at my best friend’s cabin in Murphy, North Carolina. The green leaves out back seem to fluoresce in the mist. And the temperatures are rising, slowly but surely. Occasionally the sun breaks out and my heart floats up in my chest while my skin soaks in the warmth. One thing this move has taught me is to appreciate beauty wherever it is found. Love these things fiercely because they will soon be gone. But don’t fret, because they’ll be back again soon enough.


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