Teddy Grahams

My daughter has taken very positively to Teddy Grahams. Perhaps you’ve seen them? They are graham crackers in the shape of little teddy bears. I wanted to give her a little something to keep her occupied when we out for walks or in the car without always resorting to Cheerios. Now, she wouldn’t mind eating Cheerios all the time but I still decided something else might break up the monotony. 

So I gave her one and she liked it. She put it in her mouth, made a ‘yum’ noise and proceeded to get it a bit soggy before taking it out of her mouth and consuming it bit by bit. I didn’t question her process; it seemed to be working well for her. 

I have since given her one or two here and there and she’s always happy to get them because they are tasty. I admit it because I like them too. I found that she and I are not the only ones that enjoy these flavorful little morsels. Two others are quite fond of them as well – the dogs! 

I put a couple of the crackers in my pocket on the way for our ride back home one day. The bigger dog kept her nose at my pocket. And I kept wondering if I hadn’t put one of her treats in my pocket. After a few moments, she began to lick my pocket. I decided to give her one to see if she would take it or if some other scent was calling her attention. Nope! It was the teddy graham. She ate it immediately. Then the other dog came out of her little space to stare me down for one. (They work as a team those two despite their pretending to not get along.) So I had to give a treat to each of my three girls. What was this all coming to?

A few days ago, my daughter grabbed the box of teddy grahams off the coffee table while I turned to grab a diaper out of my bag. She fumbled her way around in the box and the bigger dog came out of nowhere to stare at her sister’s workings. Next thing I knew, there was a slight plat, plat, plat sound against the tiles (the drool of the dog splashing onto the floor) and F waiting for M to drop a cracker by mistake. The minute it happened, the dog scooped in to pick it up and my daughter chuckled at her playmate. 

Kids and dogs really can be funny about what they like and can be quite determined when it’s something they enjoy. I just never thought it would involve little crackers that look like Winnie the Pooh.

9 Months

Pregnancy is often referred to as 9 months. It’s actually 10 months but for some women who go into labor, it’s less than that. It’s probably been referred to as 9 months because most women don’t realize they are pregnant until a whole month has gone by. But I’m hazarding a guess.


What this entry refers to is actually the point in time when I realized my daughter will no longer be a baby. And it’s not that she’s actually 9 months old right now. It occurred to me as I was looking for footsie pajamas. When they are young, almost everything is a footsie pajama. Let me tell you a good pair of footsie pajamas are very hard to find after a certain age. They just aren’t as adorable as they are that young age

My daughter is growing every day and I can tell this because her clothes don’t fit her anymore or her diapers are getting tighter. As she develops and grows, I am simultaneously happy and sad. She’s healthy, happy and edible. The fact that she’s growing means time is going by quickly and I can’t contain her in this particular stage (and this is an adorable stage!).

As I look at pictures and see newborns in the neighborhood, I remember her at those ages with such fondness. But it wasn’t even that long ago! Now I just take in as much of my time with her as I can. Because it will only go faster, I fear.

The Baptism

A number of months ago, while I was still on maternity leave, my husband and I decided to christen our daughter. Normally people wait many months do this but I knew I’d have the time to plan only while I was home. I couldn’t guarantee what my life would be like once I was back at work.


I went to my parish church to find out what it would take and luckily they are very liberal and cool. So that reduced my anxiety substantially. Then the question became who should be the godparents and that wasn’t too difficult when it came to godmothers, it was ‘who will be the godfather?’ I knew who I wanted to be the godfather but he was in Mexico with very little chance of making it NY anytime soon. So I asked at the church if a godfather was absolutely necessary and they said that it’s just ceremonial, not necessary. Phew! Issue solved.

As we began to plan the details of the after ceremony, I had to get out invitations and find a place. The godmothers were off looking for a christening dress and they were slim pickings. I nailed down a place but needed to get a number on the people. The dress was yet to be found. Then my husband’s sister’s trip was cancelled which was earlier in the month and I asked if she could change her ticket to come for the baptism. And she jumped all over that request. And luckily she found a dress too. Everything was falling into place which made me happy.

The day of the baptism had finally arrived. It was up the godmothers to dress the baby. I ran off to get dressed and papa took pictures. Munchkin cooperated until the actual moment the dress was placed on her. I heard her belting a wail from the bathroom. I went to look in and I couldn’t help but laugh. Thankfully she wasn’t into frilly dresses at this stage of the game. The godmothers did their best to get her dolled up nonetheless. And we were off to church.

8 other babies were getting christened that day so it was quite a packed house. Munchkin took a nap on the way to the church and sadly we had to wake her up for the ceremony. She was in a daze and yawned a couple of times. Then it was our turn to go up and my husband and I went to the baptismal well with the baby. The priest said ‘what a well behaved baby’ after he poured the holy water on her head. She did seem just perfect until he said that. Then she cried and cried and howled. My husband and I couldn’t help but laugh. Of course the one kid who would cry would be ours. We tried to calm her down; friends came to offer assistance. I barely heard the rest of the mass but I didn’t care. She was asserting her personality and sounding a little bit like her grandpa – boisterous and aggravated in church.

After the ceremony, we went to have dinner. She was a tad bit perturbed because it was turning into such a long day for her. But soon after everyone had the cake, my husband brought her home to sleep in her bassinet. She fell right to sleep.

In the grand scheme of things now in the afterthought, it wasn’t too bad. But while I was doing everything, it seemed overwhelming and I was still only getting a few hours of sleep a day. Not sure how I pulled it all together especially when my mom was bugging me about all the little details that just didn’t matter. I look at those pictures now and I chuckle because I am sure I was stressed beyond belief. But looking at her crying at her dress and at the ceremony just makes me see what a personality I have on my hands. I am very thankful for that and for her.

The Doctor's Visit

My little munchkin had her 4 month checkup last week. It was an interesting visit from the get-go. I was almost finished removing her footed pajamas when she decided she needed to show me, and the doctor walking in, that she wanted to turn over. The doctor saw this action and commented that she was ‘a little show off.’

After turning her over and getting her to stay on her back, the pediatrician asked her how she was doing. She responded by showing the doctor her foot. The doctor commented on how it was an exciting foot and that it certainly provided a lot of entertainment for my daughter. From there the doctor asked her how she was feeling; my daughter promptly presented her fist. The doctor giggled and said “that is a lovely little hand”. 

After the niceties were done, the doctor proceeded to examine the internal organs around my baby’s stomach by pressing her tummy. My daughter responded to this by putting her hands behind her head and smiling at the doctor. The doctor said “This is my favorite stage – 4 and 6 months”. My daughter continued hamming it up with the doctor and the doctor said “I have a boyfriend for you.”

This prompted a long conversation because I suggested that the doctor must have parents who want her to set their kids up with matches.  She said that actually they didn’t do that but it would be a great service. Especially because she knows the kids until they are 18 and she knows the families too. She ultimately got to a point where she said you can tell a lot by a kid based on their parents. She said my daughter was not high maintenance and was very happy. She suggested that it’s because my husband and I aren’t ‘frequent fliers’ – meaning we don’t go to her ever two minutes about stuff. The doctor said that there were some parents that she saw every week. I could see that happening with some people based on their personalities but I hope I am never like that.

I admit that my daughter’s interaction with her pediatrician made me chuckle. She was so relaxed until she had to get her vaccinations.  Very quickly thereafter though, she calmed down. As we left the examination room, she smiled at the doctor again. She made me very proud. I hope that she continues to be such a friendly and unflappable little pumpkin.

Kicking and Screaming - Part 2

(Or, What I Learned from My Daughter)

 

Although I babysat for many years in my youth, nothing quite prepares you for raising your own child. You may become a guru at diaper changing (my skills atrophied with the years), an expert at baby talk (still up to par), or skilled at soothing (ummm depends on the day) while watching other children but it’s different when it is your own kid.

The reason for this is due to every child being different. Some kids love to be left alone while others need constant contact. In the early days with my baby, she would scream so that other countries could hear her when she peed. However she would happily sit in her own poop for long periods and seem unfazed that a bowel movement had even occurred. 

What I had a lot of trouble adjusting to was my daughter’s behavior when she became overtired. I would try to comfort her and soothe her by bouncing her and shushing her and nothing seemed to work. I would sing lullabies and rock her all in vain. She would howl at a level that even dogs would wear earplugs. I was constantly perplexed. I would see her rub her yawn and I’d begin to try my calming techniques. She wasn’t having any of my relaxing. She needed to cry and get to a point where she would rub her eyes incessantly. Her eyelids needed to get red and she’d have to exhaust herself with her screams until she finally conked out. 

Everyone said it was colic but I knew it wasn’t. There were times when I could soothe her even if it only seemed momentarily.  I became upset when my mom and sister would say that all she did was cry because I had spent hours with her where she would coo and listen attentively to my voice and respond. She was just fussy and needed to get her exercise by crying it out, it seemed. 

The first few weeks of this comportment made me feel like a horrible mother. I felt inadequate because I couldn’t calm my own baby down. Then one day while holding her, I let out a big exhale. My shoulders relaxed and my arms lost their tension and she suddenly began to drift off. I realized then that what I needed was more patience and calmness within myself to give to her. I had always seen myself as an incredibly patient person (I had to be with my family!). But this child required even more of that from me. So early on in our relationship, I was learning a lesson from my cookie. 

Now when I see her beginning to get sleepy, I select an item from my arsenal of peace with a tranquil mind and heart so that she can get herself to sleep on her own. If anyone has ever said you can’t learn something from children, they don’t a thing about babies.

Out and About

One of my favorite times of the day with my daughter is when I take a walk with her. During my maternity leave it was something I looked forward to everyday from the moment I woke up. I always planned out where we would go ahead of time – running errands, eating lunch, or just aimlessly walking around the neighborhood.

The first few weeks were great because the moment I would put her in the stroller, she would nap. So I could spend some time eating lunch or reading a book at a park bench while I rocked her further into sleep. Occasionally when I didn’t have a specific errand to run, I’d just walk up and down blocks in my neighborhood just to get her to feel the bumps of the street beneath her stroller. As she grew more, she would watch everything that was going on around her. She would occasionally doze off. However, she spent most of the time observing EVERYTHING. 

The best part of these more recent walks has been to watch her watching people, places, things and seeing her expressions to the noises surrounding her. On cold days, I’d bundle her up completely so all I could see were her eyes – two big brown eyes peering past the stroller cover to see what the world had to offer. 

Now that I’m not with her everyday, her dad tells me about their walks. And he too is mesmerized by her observation skills. He even decided to get a camera that he put on the stroller to just look at her when they are out on their walks. I am looking forward to seeing those expressions again. 

I look forward to the weekends when I can go out with her and she can show me the world through her eyes. I can’t wait to take her on trips outside of the neighborhood so she can experience more of the city and even the world.

Kicking and Screaming - Part 1

As soon as I could feel my daughter moving in my belly, she’d been kicking as if she were preparing to punt for the Super Bowl champions. I think she was trying to imitate me and my time on the elliptical machine or the stationary bike. Or maybe she was already paying homage to the sport that is most popular in both Italy and Mexico. Not sure exactly but she definitely knew how to do damage with her legs and feet. I told the doctors that I thought she was going to be a soccer player, a kick boxer or a rockette based on her kicks. 

There were times during my pregnancy when I thought she had it in for my ribs. It seemed that she wanted to kick them out of place so she had more room to move. I remember one night she had been kicking me for 2 hours straight that I was sure she had broken a number of bones in my trunk. I even remember crying hysterically because it was so painful. 

A few weeks ago as she was sprawled out on her changing table, she was cycling her lower limbs as if she were pedaling through the Tour de France. My husband said “Now I know what you were going through when you were pregnant.” I told him that was the one thing about being pregnant that I didn’t miss – the constant bombardment of her legs on my internal organs. Now that she was free of her constricting space, she must have been enjoying her feet so much more. 

Whenever she is in her stroller and is upset (not that I ever know the exact cause), she kicks her blanket(s) right off and onto the ground. I find myself playing the game of pickup sticks except there is no ball and no sticks, just various handmade warming garments. One day in a particular fit of rage, she kicked them off 5 times. I contemplated not putting them back on but it was cold and I worried she’d get sick in the distance it took to get home.  I started trying to reason with her but really, what was I thinking? She didn’t understand what I was saying. So instead, I hunched over the stroller handle and put my hands on her blankets as I pushed the stroller with my ribs. Luckily, she didn’t break them during my pregnancy because they were coming in very handy in these desperate occasions. 

Some people believe you can see what your kids will be good at from a very early age. Maybe she will turn out to play in the World Cup or make her ascent up the mountains of France or perhaps she will run marathons but for right now, I’ll just enjoy her – kicks and all – and see what time will reveal.

Shadows of the Night

My daughter gets very fussy at night. She is exhausted and rubs her eyes and cries but she just won’t go to sleep. She fights it like a heavyweight champion. Of all the things she got from me, this was the one thing I didn’t want her to copy. But oh well. 

We try to rock her to sleep and sing lullabies and every other thing in our arsenal of baby tricks. Sometimes they work but most of the time, they don’t. One thing that she seems to like but that isn’t always successful in getting her to nod off is the mobile.

It lights up and has some plush animals that hang down from it – a flamingo, a hippo and a frog. It also plays classical music. This same classical music puts me and my husband to bed almost instantaneously. It is not that effective with my little cookie. I know the music so well that I find myself humming it when I do other things around the house. 

We keep the bedroom very dark at night so the only light you see is the one from the mobile. In the early days when she was just learning about her body, we could see her looking at the shadow of her hand in the light from the mobile. Now we watch as she kicks the animals. She has shown a proclivity towards punching the hippo and smacking the flamingo as they go by. I am not sure what to expect when we go to the zoo for the first time. 

The title of this blog comes from a song by Pat Benatar. The video was about a female fighter pilot during WWII as they make a night bombing. I thought it fitting for this entry because there are times when I feel so tired after trying to get her to sleep that I crash like a bomb into bed. But it also works because she loves to watch the shadows of her limbs in the light from the mobile against the wall. I hope in the months to come she will embrace sleep and not try to keep it so far away.