Archives for February 2012

What my child is learning.

Bella has learned how to do two things recently: how to jump and how to undress herself.

There has been a lot of naked jumping around our house.

Bella has also formed an addiction to the Curious George cartoon. I loathe Curious George. When I was a kid, I liked the books. But this cartoon? I HATE it. That damn monkey is always in trouble. He’s always making a mess. And the man in the yellow hat? He’s an idiot. I mean, why is he always trusting George with tasks that are only suitable for an adult human being? Oh, hey George? Can you babysit these children? Can you take this dog to obedience school? GEORGE IS A MONKEY. He cannot be held responsible for every day tasks so stop acting surprised when he turns everything into a disaster. THIS IS SETTING MY CHILD UP WITH UNREALISTIC EXPECTATIONS OF APES.

Okay, okay. I realize it’s just a cartoon. I’m just having to watch it too much. I’m hoping she finds a new interest soon because I’m about to lose my mind. (I’m probably just having to pay for making my parents watch The Smurfs and David the Gnome.)

Bella has also learned the term “It hurts”. It makes me cringe. She said it the other day when she was picking at a toe nail and ripped it too far into the skin. She’s been saying it during diaper change because she has a rash. When children actually become capable of vocalizing when they’re hurting, it makes your heart ache. I think that she’s picked up on this because she’s starting to use the phrase when something IS NOT hurting her. For example:

“Eat your vegetables. ”

“IT HURTS.”

“Time for bed.”

“IT HURTS.”

“Put your clothes back on.”

“IT HURTS.”

We’re going to have to work on this.

 

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What are YOU afraid of?

I felt like writing a blog post tonight but my mind is kind of blank and I’m sure you don’t want to hear about some of my boring daily activities. Got up. Went to work. Came home from work. Ran errands. Fed Bella dinner. Read stories. Watched some Curious George. Put Bella to bed. So I turned to:

Mama’s Losin’ It

I got the idea from my BFF, MommyBoots.

 

The writing prompt I chose was:

Do you have a childhood fear that has carried over into adulthood?

Yes. Indeed I do. I have trouble with baths because of a scene in Stephen King’s IT. I’m talking about the one where the kid is sitting in the tub and can hear that creepy child eating clown through the drain.

:::::Shiver::::: I still have to put a washcloth over the drain so I can’t see it. I don’t know why that makes me feel any better, by the way, like a washcloth could save me if there really was a killer clown in the drain.

I also have a fear of tablespoons. And now you think I’m insane. Okay, maybe it’s not actually a fear, it’s more like an aversion. When I was a kid we always had cats and we used canned cat food. I remember my dad using a tablespoon to scoop it out of the can into the kitty’s food dish. I hated the fishy smell and the look of that nasty slop and it always stuck with me. (This is probably why I use dry cat food now.) I didn’t want to eat with a spoon that I associated with cat food, I didn’t care if it had been washed. It still touched it at some point in time. To this day, I still avoid “big” spoons, I prefer to use a teaspoon. At my office in our kitchen we pretty much only have tablespoons. So I use plasticware when I need a spoon. Once upon a time I carried a teaspoon in my purse…just in case I got in situation where I needed it….like at a restaurant. I got over it. I like to think that makes me a little less crazy, like I’m making progress. Progress is important, people. Baby steps.

So there you have it. I have a fear of clowns in the bathtub and tablespoons. That’s pretty normal right?

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Battles with “The Poo”.

Warning: if you don’t want to read about the bodily functions of toddlers, you might as well just skip this post.

I, myself, am not one for bodily functions. I don’t belch and I do my business in private. A coworker once told me that her husband is under the impression that “girls eat and the food turns into love.” Yeah, thats pretty much me. Jesus and I are married but we still keep things “private”.

Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and tell me that won’t last forever. Maybe it won’t, but I intend on keeping it going as long as possible because it just grosses me out. Let’s move on though:

When you have a baby, a lot of that DOES go out the window because you have this tiny human that is, well, a fluid factory. Jesus and I frequently find ourselves talking about her poop. When did she go? How much did she go? Lately, we’ve had a little bit of a constipation problem. She had some painful bathroom episodes that had us saying: “How did THAT come out of her?” and “OMG it’s the size of a potato.”

We increased her fiber intake and things got a little better, but lately she seems to be “straining” again. She suddenly gets all still, clinches her butt cheeks, arches her back and purses her lips. Sometimes she hides when she does this and she doesn’t like when you look at her, but if you do happen to look her way, she waves, which is….kind of weird.

This confused me because she’s definitely getting enough fiber now. So I turned to the internets. I’ve been reading some articles and I’ve come to the conclusion that she isn’t straining to poo, she’s straining NOT to poo. This is probably coming from the fear that it will be painful since she didn’t experience some painful poo when she was constipated.

It’s been a few days and she hasn’t gone and I KNOW she needs to go. I’ve read that once they’ve held it for a few days, you need to try and get it out, then once you get it (“it” being the “poo”) out, you have to work on teaching them that going potty isn’t scary. I researched some methods to try and get her to go (without being intrusive). So, tonight, I had her sit in warm bath water for like half and hour. Then I gave her a tummy massage. Then I lathered up that butthole with Vaseline so that sucker can hopefully just slip on out. Now we will wait.

Sigh. These are those special motherhood moments.

Side note: I’m going to call her pediatrician about it in the morning, so don’t get all ” OMG she’s only going off what she’s reading on the internets.”

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I hate you anxiety.

I am a very anxious person. I am quite certain that I have an anxiety disorder. In high school I was diagnosed with Social Anxiety Disorder and was put on anti depressants. I was on them for several years and then one day I dumped a full bottle of pills in the river on a nature hike and decided I wasn’t going to take them anymore.

I feel like in my youth, my anxiety and depression were quite trivialized and misunderstood by both my peers and my family, which probably led to the dumping of the pills. I didn’t want people thinking I was crazy, which I’m pretty sure was the general consensus. I was pretty much like: “I don’t need these! I can deal with this on my own!” I think I’ve done pretty well “dealing with it myself,” I have never felt as out of control and unstable as I did when I was in high school when I was placed in therapy and on medication. I sometimes wish though, that I had stayed on medication for at least a little bit longer. I feel icky from time to time, but I always feel in control. I don’t pretend that my problems are severe. We all have issues. But tonight is one of those nights where I am feeling incredibly anxious. I never know what will spark it; a hectic day at work, an argument, a mistake, or nothing at all. A bout of anxiety is usually accompanied by me A: scrubbing all the floorboards with a Q tip. B: Crying uncontrollably, which freaks Jesus out, or C: Staring into oblivion for about 3 hours.

But tonight? Well tonight I will write this post and listen to the Banana Boat Song. Which makes me want Rum. Damnit. I don’t drink rum. And I also don’t drink when I am having an anxiety fit. That could get ugly.

Banana Boat.

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Planning parties.

So a few weeks ago, I attempted a photo session with Bella in order to try and snag a cute photo for her 2nd birthday party invitations. These are the results of that:

 

First photo. Not too bad.

 

2nd photo. Not too bad either.

 

Wait a minute, what is this thing you have me holding, mom?

 

Yo. Check out the sign, y'all.

 

Give me the camera. I got this.

 

I HATE YOU MOTHER

 

I gave up and used the second photo, and I was pretty happy with the results.

 

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