Monday, January 9th, 2012
Hey! Penny is eight months old! A while ago! But she’s not nine months old yet, so… victory!
So, my daughter. What a delightful little asshole she is. Let me tell you about her.
Words: None.
Movement: Can still only roll back to belly. No locomotion.
Teeth: Two!
Firsts: Christmas. Plane rides. Waves.
Loves: Riding in the shopping cart, obvs. Collecting adoration from retirees in the Commissary.
We shop a lot, okay?
Food-based likes: Noodles, apples, bananas, puffs, waffles, banana toast, broccoli, chicken noodle soup, chili, whatever you are eating right now what’s that you got there I want it.
Music-based likes: The Rocky Theme, 90s summer hits, anything with the word “Penny” in it, any song that can be altered to be about Penny. Dashboard Confessional.
Hates: Having her nose touched.
Annoying features: The two fisted punch of teething and travel-related sleep disturbances. Weird raspberry/spitting thing.
Weird-ass features: Squawks. Shrieks. Shakes with excitement over just about anything, but mostly approaching food. Bounces while laying on her back or while being held. I don’t know, you’ve got to see this shit to believe it. She’s an odd one, this Penelope.
Finds hilarious: Fake sneezes. When an adult mimics her weird-ass bouncing. Sheldon. Attempts to “eat her belly.” Weird jokes that only she understands.
Finds terrifying: Other babies.
Anyway, Penny hasn’t really made any super developments over her last month. We were really busy with the holidays, of course, and she did great. She was perfectly content to be passed around strangers and was a champion flyer. She cleaned up at Christmas, gift-wise, and loves every single present equally. So she thinks. I have not yet broken out the parachute.
I’ve thought this before, but I think it again this last month – it seems like we’re really figuring this stuff out. She started out this shrieking mystery of unnamed needs, but at this point, we know at a glance what’s up with her. We know when she’s tired, when she wants to eat, how much she’ll probably eat, how to calm her down, how to put her to sleep, how to handle her in public, how to distract her when she’s about to lose her mind, how to make her laugh, how to entertain her. It wasn’t that many months ago that I didn’t think that any of that would ever be possible.
I know that eventually we’ll hit some terrible phases, but at the moment, we continue on the uphill climb that started when she started smiling. Which she still does. All the time.
And she also waves, which is hilarious, because while at first it looked like she was waving “hi” and “bye” appropriately, now it seems she waves to signal that she’s tired or cranky or wound up. She definitely waves, she just doesn’t exactly get when she’s supposed to.
She also recognizes Phil as “daddy,” but hasn’t quite put together yet that I’m “mama.” I don’t really refer to myself that way – you know, “Mama’s here,” or “Mama’s got you,” or “Mama is going to put you in the closet if you don’t can it.” I probably should, but while I talk to her ALL DAY LONG, talking in that way doesn’t really come too naturally to me. Phil’s great at talking to her and playing with her and reading to her. I, on the other hand, basically talk to her all day like she’s a girlfriend come to visit and hang out while I do laundry. She’ll probably call me “Hey.”
Whatevs. That’s fine. We know we’re buds, and that’s what counts.
You know what month eight really was? The month it started boggling us how different she’s become. We can’t believe it. We say, “Remember when she… ” and “Remember how she looked when… ”
It’s not that she’s gotten so big, exactly. It’s more like… was she really ever that SMALL?
Can no longer be counted on to just LEAVE THAT BEAR ALONE FOR TWO SECONDS I JUST NEED TO TAKE ONE PICTU– COME ON!
Posted in Penny | 19 Comments »
Tuesday, August 30th, 2011
So! Yesterday, Penny was 4 months old. Up until now (she says, as if it has been ages of predictable and reliable behavior), I’ve managed to post her month update on the day, but I told you long ago to not expect too much from me in the way of regular monthly updates and in all honesty, I feel like a day late is little to sniff at when I have kept it up for FOUR MONTHS NOW.
I didn’t get to make the post yesterday since Penny had two medical appointments – her four month check up and a follow up on her hospital stay with one of two specialists she will need to see. Also, we’re expecting house guests, so we’ve been busy. Penny will be meeting her great grandmother for the first time, and we didn’t want our neglected house to take away from the full Penny sensory experience.
Entirely too much of this month looked like this:
In fact, it was pretty much exactly at three months that we took Penny in to the doctor on suspicion of a severe drop in awesomeness, so Penny’s health has basically been the focus of this entire month. Two weeks were spent going back and forth to her pediatrician, trying to work out what was going on, five days were spent in Phoenix Children’s Hospital, and the last two weeks have been working on getting back to normal.
Stressful, yes, but one of the reasons we took Penny in to see the doctor in the first place was that she just wasn’t the same. I feel like an asshole saying this, and everyone says you just jinx yourself if you do, but we always had such a good baby. Smiley, happy, only cried when she needed something. And she just changed. She was so unhappy, all of the time. I felt like a moron going in to the doctor with the complaint that my baby cries, and I have to admit that I was worried that the happy Penny times were just a phase, and the upset, crying, miserable baby times were the new normal.
Well, two weeks out of the hospital, and I am relieved to say that misery does not seem to be the case.
“I’LL HAVE THE SAMPLER PLATTER, PLEASE. HEAVY ON THE MILK SAMPLES.”
She went to breakfast with us on Sunday morning and we brought along her Bumbo seat, since we’re working on helping her to regain her strength and muscle tone after what was likely 4 or 6 weeks or more of a brutal infection. Not only did she set a new household record for Bumbo sitting, unseating Phil from the top of the charts, she also charmed the hell out of our waitress with her smiles and general goodnatured baby-ness.
Anyway. Four months old!
Special skills: Bumbo sitting, obviously. Also does these weird, kind of creepy sit ups when she’s swaddled and in her bed at night. OH, also? Sleeping in her own bed at night. Deadly accuracy with hand into gross, drooly mouth. Still not laughing or reaching out for things, but does make a weird quacking noise and will hold some toys if they’re placed in her lap. Gaining weight like a… well, she eats like a hog.
Most annoying features: We have so many bibs and for three months I was all, “Well, I guess the bibs will go the way of the newborn caps, because our baby just doesn’t need them.” And then? Drool. Also? Spitting up. She’s all, “Hey, I just unloaded half my bottle into your lap, so I’m going to require another half of a bottle.” Undisturbed by her own grossness, just suddenly hungry again. In short, it’s bib-city over here. Has also LEARNED HOW TO WHINE AND IT IS SO AWFUL.
Most adorable features: She just smiles all. the. time.
And look, I don’t like to brag (yes I do), but her cloth diapers are pretty damn adorable as well and if you think I’m not going to talk about them soon, you are NUTS, especially considering that this just came in the mail from PinkieBling:
Yeah, that’s a detachable lettuce ruffle, no big. EXCEPT, NO, YES BIG.
She also makes a lot of sounds, the way that babies do, that makes you think that they think they’re actually talking to you. So Phil and I spend a lot of time doing the standard, “Oh, yeah?” and “Is that right?” and “What next?” and “And then?”
And since we’re obnoxious people of a certain age, it is inevitable that as soon as an opening is overheard, someone will shriek, “NO AND THEN!” from wherever they are in the house.
Dislikes: When no parents are in sight. When Sheldon crowds her space. Being naked and also being dressed, as has been the trend. This one super adorable romper she has that just sends her into a RAGE whenever I try to make her wear it. Being wiped clean. (Also? Thank you to everyone who suggested Mustela wipes for the unshakable baby-cheese smell. Because, gross.)
Likes: Songs about babies named Penny. Singing along. The bath, a longtime favorite. The diaper changing song. Waking up in the morning. Watching nerd-television with her dad. Being told exactly what is going on at all times. Her steves, especially Steve Canada, a gift from Lara.
Most desirable features: Sleeping from 7:30/8:oopm until 4:30/5:30am. Really, that pretty much rules. As long as her last feeding is timed perfectly, we can set ourselves up for a solid night of sleep. Too early, and she’s squawking at 3am. She’s also easy to put to sleep. Bottle, bath, diaper, swaddle, bed with someone sitting next to her for 5 – 10 minutes, maybe one return for a pacifier retrieval, and that’s it. She also wakes up smiling at anyone who comes to get her.
However, it is important that we RESPECT the BEDTIME.
There’s a lot of awesome about Penny, but at four months in with a hospital stay behind us, the sleeping thing is pretty much at the top of my list of things that rule.
So. That’s Penny. Her stats at 2 months put her right about average in length and head, and at about the 30th percentile in weight. A few weeks ago, she had dropped down to 8 lbs, 15 oz and right off the growth charts. At four months, she has worked her way back on to the curve.
Length: 23″
Head: 16″
Weight: A colossal 11 lbs, 5 oz!
The doctor picked her up and I was all, “Doesn’t she weigh a TON?” and the doctor was all, “Oh, honey… no.”
Woo, 3rd percentile all around!
Well, except for that melon. Sub-10th percentile body, totally average head.
Here’s Penny and the Bears, at four months old:
For reference:
No months
One month
Two months
Three months
Posted in Penny | 28 Comments »
Monday, August 1st, 2011
- I’ve realized that having a kid hasn’t really left me with no time to blog, but has dramatically increased my reliance on “here’s whole bunch of unrelated points” kinds of posts. I like to write posts of 1000, 2000 words – you know that by now, Internet, and I appreciate your tenacity as you cling and determinedly troop through the most meandering and excessively EMPHASIZED paths I take to make what ends up being a very simple point.
But to write those posts, I start out with said very simple point, intending to make it very simply, but as it goes along I get more and more EXCITED about what I am saying and so DETERMINED to make myself clear that I just keep going and going and the tips of my fingers start to hurt because slamming the keys will obviously be translated and I imagine myself with my hair getting all stand uppy and maybe a little drool coming out one corner of my mouth. Blogging is not glamorous, people, except for those who make a lot of money from it and then I am pretty sure it is kind of glamorous.
So I get on these key-thumping, flailing-for-emphasis-even-though-you-can’t-READ-a-flail rolls, and it’s hard to generate such fervor and sustain it when you have to get up every 5 minutes to sing songs about butts and return pacifiers to mouths and say, “What-what-WHAAAAAAAT do you WAAAAAANT?”
- I lost my train of thought right here for a second because I had to go sing a song about butts. Also, I’ve been working on another song to the tune of “Mandy” by Barry Manilow. I sing it to Penny while I work on it. It’s about her being an only child and how I’m going to live out my dreams through her and expectations are going to be really high and good luck.
- Speaking of incredibly long blog posts? I have the August issue of Cosmopolitan sitting in front of me, you guys, and I have high hopes for tomorrow. (TJ’s Cosmo Cliff’s Notes: November 2009, December 2009, January 2010, February 2010, March 2010, April 2010, May 2010)
- You see the ad in the sidebar there for Perching at Home? I think you should check it out, and I am in no way obligated by the ad being there to tell you that. I could just take the money and say nothing, you know. But I’m not. Because I REALLY think you should check it out. Especially if you’re planning some adorable newborn pictures for your present or impending baby.
I also think you should check out the crib rail covers, because I think they’re brilliant and perfect for the type of people who have actually made a nursery for the baby, with a theme and a talent for decorating and all.
BUT NONE OF THIS IS MY POINT. And I have two points. They’re not actually points. They’re just some things I want to say.
I was talking on Twitter about the lamentability of adorable footie pajamas having such a limited lifetime, and several people suggested just cutting the feet off, except I didn’t WANT to cut the feet off. I don’t know how to brush Penny’s hair. Having the jorts of the pajama world on her is just too far into unloved ragamuffin territory for me, what with her hair frizz-waving on one side of her head and sticking straight off the other. So, Beth offered to de-feet them for me.
I KNOW I could have just cut the feet off. Just so we’re clear. I just didn’t WANT TO.
You guys – they came out SO STINKING ADORABLE.
She’s only crying because she loves them SO! MUCH!
I love these pajamas. Having them de-footed definitely extends how long she’ll be able to wear them, and stops me from going to Carter’s and buying them in the next couple of sizes, like I did with a certain dress. Also, it is kind of hard to make excuses to go to Carter’s for new clothes when it has been made very clear that the baby hasn’t grown at all.
Also, shorty pajamas are perfect for Arizona. I don’t know what you non-Arizona people would do. Socks, maybe? I am the terror of old ladies everywhere – I basically never put socks on the baby.
Look, I KNOW that YOU just cut the feet off. And that’s FINE. But should you ever NOT want to cut the feet off, but still WANT THE FEET OFF, can I suggest having this done? I told Beth when she offered to do it for me – this should totally be a service. There are neurotic people everywhere who would rather have their pajamas de-feeted than cut them or buy bigger ones. If I am that neurotic, SOME OF YOU ARE, TOO. Thus, valuable service.
BUT THIS IS NOT ALL. Beth sent along a gift for Penny as well.
I’m not saying anything else about it because I already made a REALLY good yet somehow totally underappreciated joke about it here and I don’t feel as though I can top myself right now.
I was not in any way obligated or paid to say any of this. But look. The crib rail teething covers are just beautiful. She made my baby’s head resemble a Fraggle, which makes me feel pleasantly nostalgic in the way people who grew up in the 80s and 90s like to do (and someone inevitably, ALWAYS ALWAYS, chimes in with “hey, remember slap bracelets??” Yes. We all remember those. And yes, they were banned at my school, too. And then it ALWAYS devolves into people just making lists of random shit they recall “Popples! That waffle cereal! Hypercolor!”). AND she catered to my neurosis by de-feeting pajamas. I’m not OBLIGATED to say crap. But I wanted to. Seriously. Go look at her shop, and come back and tell me what the most awesome thing you found there was.
- Last night, when I was indulging my “stories about in laws” habits (you can indulge yours here and here), I came across yet ANOTHER incident of someone telling a pregnant woman, “Oh, you won’t care once you’re in labor” with regard to having people in the delivery room.
Internet, I heard that a lot. And you know what? I CARED. My mom sat in the waiting room almost ALL DAY for TWO DAYS. She came in when I was on Stadol for an hour or so, and she came in for a good bit of Friday when I had the epidural. The idea is that the pain will make you not care about anything else, I guess, but I was NOT comfortable being observed while I was in pain. The pain absolutely did NOT make me forget – in fact, it just made me want to be left alone all the more intensely.
Even once I had the epidural and was feeling much better, I STILL didn’t forget. I had my mom leave the room for EVERY check. I woke up from a brief drifting in and out kind of nap to find her talking to the nurse and even snapped at her for talking about my medical information. Being in labor did not make me suddenly forget what a private person I am and how much I wanted privacy during labor. It only made me MORE privatey.
So if you’re pregnant and you’re telling someone how you don’t want anyone in the room, and they laugh blithely and say, “Oh, I’m going to be in there. You won’t even care once you’re in labor!” or some woman who has been through it tells you, “Honestly, you won’t care once the time comes,” you should know that those people are CONFUSED. What they’re SAYING is, “I didn’t care once I was in labor.”
And they seem to have gotten a little mixed up and ended up thinking that what happened to THEM is what will happen to YOU.
One of the most frustrating things of first time pregnancy, I think, is the number of people telling you how you WILL feel and what you WILL do and how things WILL go, based on their personal experiences alone. And it can be so aggravating to try to make your case in the face of that – to say, for example, that you KNOW that you don’t want anyone in the room – because they’ve been through it and you haven’t and they take on an annoying, smug air of “Oh, you’ll see.” And it SUCKS having to defend your points from that position. It does.
Just use this translation code from now on: When someone says “You WILL/WON’T __________,” where __________ is whatever, it’s actually just an asshole way of saying, “I DID/DIDN’T __________.” Then you can take it for what it’s worth, depending on who it is coming from.
- Also assholey? On baby forums, the response, “This must be your first baby, right?” in reply to anything deemed even slightly overprotective, from the super experienced, way laid back, “look how little I care about everything and how cool I assume that makes me in your eyes” second-, third-, etc.-, time parents. I’m not even going to go into why that’s so assholey. You should just know that it is.
- Penny had her 3 month portraits done this weekend. It was mostly a shrieking disaster just like what’s going on behind me right now. Here’s one of the pictures.
Posted in daily BS, Penny, the blogging thing | 18 Comments »
Sunday, June 12th, 2011
Phil went to the store for like, SEVEN MINUTES to pick up some stuff for our dinner while I was feeding Penny. He arrived home to hear my pathetic bleatings for help.
I didn’t realize that the elastic on the legs of the cloth diaper she was wearing was a little more stretched out than normal, so there was poop smell wafting, like, everywhere. Shortly after I got Stockholm Syndrome of the Nose due to the butt odor, I realized that she and her dress were kind of damp, because the insert of the diaper had slipped out of the flap in the back and allowed pee to wick all up her back. So I stripped her down and changed her and then went to burp her and she puked on my arm and also on my shirt.
Which she was wearing at the time. (Edited for important clarification: My shirt, not my arm. She wasn’t wearing my arm. I mean, she was kind of draped over it, in a way, so if anything, my arm was an accessory to the outfit. The outfit which was a diaper and my shirt – the one I wore yesterday, if we’re being specific about things.)
And then I spilled my diet Mt. Dew in her bed.
Where I was storing it at the time.
Yeah. So. Parenting. I would ask some lame question about when it got easier or when I was totally going to have this shit down, but I’m pretty sure this is how it goes forever.
ALSO THOUGH, SOME AWESOMENESS:
You know how Elton John stole my song and rewrote it?
Well, seeing as how it was my song in the first place, we’ve RE-re-written it for Penny.
“P-P-P-Penny is the best!”
And I was just thinking how we could carry this throughout her whole life for our amusement/her embarrassment/same thing anyway.
Penny’s hungry: P-P-P-Penny wants some breast!
Penny’s in high school: P-P-P-Penny took a test!
Penny becomes an ornithologist: P-P-P-Penny found a nest!
Penny brings her boyfriend over: P-P-P-Penny has a guest!
Penny rebels and bucks the family tradition of NEVER IRONING EVER: P-P-P-Penny’s clothes are pressed!
Penny becomes interested in ancestry: P-P-P-Penny found our crest!
Penny goes to the Renn Faire: P-P-P-Penny at the fest!
Penny discovers the song “Cadillac”: P-P-P-Penny enjoys Mest!
Penny discovers the word “why?”: P-P-P-Penny is a pest!
Penny becomes especially cranky at the continued abuse of the combination of her name and Elton John songs: P-P-P-Penny needs a rest!
Penny asks for a microplane grater for Christmas: P-P-P-Penny wants to zest!
Penny gets in big trouble: P-P-P-Penny got arrest… ted and then also grounded and in some SERIOUSLY DEEP SHIT, MISS.
Penny takes up WoW: P-P-P-Penny rolls for chest!
Penny has that toddler naked phase: P-P-P-Penny won’t get dressed!
Penny grows up to be as serious an adult as she is a serious baby: P-P-P-Penny doesn’t jest!
Penny wants to go out boating with some friends but can’t swim well: P-P-P-Penny needs a vest!
Okay, I enjoyed that so much that I already forgot that it’s 10:30am and Penny’s already puked on me, wafted foul scents at me, pooped down her own thighs, peed up her own back and somehow? In the night? Managed to wet MY pants.
Posted in daily BS, Penny | 8 Comments »
