Excuse me, but did you just say "Ga-Ga"?

I went to my very first gala last night. Well, technically half of one, since like Cinderella, I needed to bail when the clock struck 7:30pm so I could get home to the Peanut. I have to say that I find it very difficult to mix with adults. Make that adult strangers. I'm okay with ones I know - friends, even acquaintances like Bob's coworkers, I feel that they understand and accept me and my blank stares and confused looks. My loss for words. But last night I had to mix and mingle with people I don't know. It took all the few brain cells I have available to me to get through the night - and not to bore people too, too much with talk about my baby. The powers that be thought it be more proper to NOT seat spouses next to each other. So I was on my own all through dinner as Bob was an ocean away three seats over. It's not like I could have just talked to him all night anyway. It was his gala and he had to work the table and the room. The entire time I struggled with this question - how much of myself should I be? I'm just too tired to be sure.

PM Nap...

...is going very well today. I heard her stir a few times, but I think she fell back to sleep on her own.

Oh the tears...

I admit that as a mommy, I frequently gravitate toward the easier/quicker fixes. Peanut can't stand tummy time after 5 minutes and starts freaking out, I pick her up. Peanut can't fall asleep, I nurse her. My rationale has been that she's little and needs to feel secure, etc. That whole recreating the womb concept since she's new around here. Now that she's five months, I can't really rely on this. She's growing up. She's outgrown that notion of needing a "fourth trimester". Now it's my turn. So I'm in desperate need of new tactics and a new over all parenting philosophy. For some reason, I decided that yesterday had to be THE day.

Ever since she caught the sniffles last week, her napping has been erratic. I could only get her to sleep for 20-minute stretches in her crib. This won't do. I put her down for a PM nap awake and encouraged her to fall asleep on her own. Oh the tears. From both of us. I'm trying out the check in on her after 5-10-15-20 minutes technique. The first four minutes go by without much incident. I hear her babbling away to herself or her mobile. Then she starts to get upset. I go in. She's fine again. I leave the room. She then proceeds to cry for the next 10 minutes. Meanwhile, I'm lying down in my bed wondering if I'm doing the right thing. Finally, at the 10 minute mark I go into her room to calm her down and give her a paci ('cause it's always something). I explain to her the importance of napping in her life, how I'm just in the next room if she really needs me and that I won't be back in for 15 minutes. She immediately starts wailing. Each minute that goes by is excruciating. I find that I can't keep lying in my bed or time won't move on. I go to sort the mail. Pick up the house a bit. She's crying hysterically. I quietly peek in to make sure she isn't in some sort of dire predicament. Nope. Just pissy. I know this because when I go in and talk to her, she's fine and dandy. Now I'm just getting plain upset here myself. Each cry pierces my soul. I know that may come across as over dramatic... but that's how it is. I want to cave and rush in to stop her cries and make her happy again. Instead, I call Bob at work for a pep talk. He isn't around. I leave a pitiful message on his voice mail and head straight for the pint of ice cream in the freezer. A few spoonfuls to fill up my sadness. Doesn't work, though. To make a long story not so long, she ended up falling asleep five minutes shy of the 20 minute visit mark. Fifteen minutes of more mutual misery. You would think I'd feel good about this turn of events, but it made me feel more horrible. My kid had to cry herself to sleep. I feel like I broke her little spirit. Bob finally called me back. He's able to be much more tough. He tries to spin this sitcho into a whole "giving her the tools necessary to rely on herself" spiel. He's right. But it doesn't feel right. There has to be another sleep answer besides crying it out. I feel cruel.

This is the thing I have to reconcile. Doing what's "best" for her in the long run even if it's hard and unpopular. And makes me feel miserable. I was in a funk for the rest of the night.

The Curious Case of the Mommy Brain

I had all of these great things about being a mommy swirling around in my head last night. Cool stuff for the blog. Now here I am and guess what? I can't remember a single thought. Not one. Mommy brain strikes again.

Since I don't have anything profound to share, I'll just jabber on about a few random things.

One: When I started this blog, I remember Peanut hated the swing. She went from all out crying in it to giving me that "you are such a half-assed mom" look. I even posted a picture. Now she's asleep beside me. All content in the swing. This is yet another situation where I was all freaked out about her development. Ha. Oh, and then I was all worried that she didn't seem to be reaching out and grabbing for things she finds interesting like the babycenter.com email suggested she would. Ha-ha. Every time she either a) grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks or b) pulls the *ahem* excess skin under my chin I have to just laugh at myself.

Two: The Bumbo chair is incompletely named. It should be called the Bum-blowout chair. Every day, Peanut poops in the chair and this poop is not contained in the diaper. I love the fact that she can sit up in it. That's cool and all. But sheesh. I'm constantly rushing her upstairs to have an accident clean up. When-will-I-learn? Perhaps I should put her on a little potty. tee-hee.

Three: Here's a non mommy-related thought (I do have a few). Usually one TV in my house (like having one car) works out just fine. Every so often, though, a situation does pop up. Like tonight. I want to watch the Project Runway finale while Bob wants to watch baseball. Guess I lose and will have to tape (YES, I SAID TAPE) Project Runway. I'm such a great wife. Notice here that there is no mention of the debate in here. We are what's wrong with America.

Four: Speaking of politics, we have our very first political sign out in our front lawn. Never thought I'd be the type. But I never had a lawn before for a presidential election, either. I don't want to hurry life up or anything, but I am looking forward to the end of this election cycle. It's been dragging on and on and on... and I seriously could do without the phone calls and the knocks on the door.

Five: What were the McCain/Palin people thinking sending her out to drop the puck at a Flyers game. Don't they pay consultants $$$ to tell them that Philadelphians can boo like nobody's business. Philly is known nationwide for booing. Someone always brings up how Philly even booed Santa Claus (extenuating circumstances notwithstanding). Why would they send her out there? Her cutie-pie daughter was not enough to stave off the boos. I realize Ed Snider is a McCain supporter. Is he that out of touch with his fan base, 'cause why would he sabotage her like that? In all the clips of the ceremony, she's the one who comes off looking foolish - not the Flyers fans.

Six: Miley Cyrus just isn't a good singer. Plain and simple. Hannah Montana might be a fun campfest... but that's as far as it goes.

Seven: I attempted to sign up for online bill paying this morning... but the paragraph upon paragraph upon... of user agreements and what nots overwhelmed my brain. I just canceled out of the whole thing.

Okay, I guess that's what is rattling around in the ol' brain of mine.

Peanut is sick. I am sick. Bob is sick. And thus, it begins...

We're all sick. I have heard about this happening to friends, so I knew it would happen to us at some point. It's inevitable. But, I didn't think it would happen this soon. I think the Peanut being a breastfed, no daycare baby gave some sort of false sense of security. All I can say is Duh. I don't know where she picked it up. My dad was sick over the weekend when we saw him. Or maybe it's just one of those change of weather things. Being my kid, Peanut is destined to have sinus issues. Who knows? Monday, we woke up in a complete panic. She has an array of usual fussy grunty noises she makes. But Monday morning, my mommy ears picked up that something was different. Bob and I dash out of bed to find Peanut stuffed up and freaking out - causing her to forget to breathe at points. Her whole face turned bright red and her eyes got big. Bob managed to calm her down and get her to breathe regularly. Whew. Those few seconds seemed like an eternity. I have a whole new compassion for parents of asthmatic children. So scary. We were both so freaked that Bob decided to stay home sick all day so we could watch her together. She just caught a little sniffle, but on Monday, to us rookie parents, it seemed more like the plague. This week has ended up being all about TLC for Peanut. Lots of love and snuggles. Now that I'm sick, though, I'm afraid to get too close. I don't want this to become something we pass back and forth to each other for the next four weeks. She seems to be feeling better. The problem is that she's deliriously tired. She's been napping and sleeping challenged unless she's snuggled near me. It's taking two hours each night to get her to sleep. Even getting her back to sleep after our middle of the night feeding took a good hour or so (this has never happened before - she's usually lights out immediately). Bob has been a champ. He really jumped in and took control of the sleep situation and got her back down while I got some sleep. I'm grateful to him, yet I can't help but feel a wee bit guilty. I feel better this morning and can have some blog time while he has to trudge off to work all day.

It's funny, I just heard her wake up and start fussing like she has been. But she's just so exhausted that she must have fallen back to sleep. No more energy to fuss.

Okay, totally random thought, but I've been wondering about it for some time. In Pink's new song, she says something about starting a fight. Just how many fights is Pink getting into these days? I think she's great and all, but really. I'm sure she got into her fair share of scrapes back in the day, but today? Seriously. It's kind of funny to picture her trying to throw down with J. Lo. Tee hee.

I'm also going to put on my rampant and shameless consumerism hat for one second. I know, totally not zen... but I can't help myself. I have to crow about my new Maclaren stroller. It's pretty cool. It's small, light and very mobile. We zip through the stores now. My Zooper is a great stroller (even though I heard the company just went out of business - so screw my warranty) with tons of features and a more comfortable ride for the Peanut. But I just got so tired of hauling it in and out of our teeny trunk. I now have a dedicated car stroller. How decadent is that?

Here's something else I've observed. If Peanut isn't in a dress or wearing pink (or maybe purple) people think she's a boy. Not that this is a problem. Just something I've noticed. It's funny how certain things signify GIRL to people.

Hmm.. what else is on my mind? I'm hoping that the concrete work going on on my street will wrap up today. It's been two weeks of loud. It's looking great... but the jackhammering while Peanut is trying to sleep is a bit much.

I guess that's all I know for the week. Oh! Can I also share how much I love Shout Advanced stain remover? It gets baby poop out like crazy. Hurrah! And I would consider myself an expert in this field.

Falling for Fall

Fall is my absolute favorite season. I love the crisp chill in the air. I love the smell of it. And, of course, the leaf thing is pretty cool. But being a parent brings new seasonal worries I hadn't anticipated. For instance, I'm pretty adamant about not turning on the heat until like after Halloween. It just doesn't seem necessary. But now, I guess I'll have to be more flexible. I can't freeze my kid. Her poor little mouth quivered this morning. D'oh. So I dressed her up in a onesie, socks, pants and a hoodie. I think she felt much better about things after that (well, until she had a huge blow out, but nevermind, anyway). Now I need to figure out what to dress her in when we go out, too. Bob put her in a super cute dress for our night out to BJ's, but since it was so chilly, we covered her in a blanket. I know I'm making this needlessly difficult. Just stick a coat on her and go. But gee whiz, we combed the mall on Saturday going into every damn children's store and could not find a fleece coat in her size THAT DID NOT HAVE A HOOD. What is with that? Hoodies are tres cute. I get that. But they are not practical when you spend 75 percent of your day lying down. The hood gets all bunchy and annoys her. I was feeling a little desperate, so I even checked out Nordstrom. Nothing. We have a big-ass mall near us, too. BIG ASS. And nothing. I even checked out the boy fashions. Still came up empty. Thank goodness for Looseyfur who sent me a gray sweatshirt from Baby Gap. That is perfect. Why can't I find more like that? One is not enough. It shouldn't be that hard. Even the internet let me down. Back to the drawing board.

See, it's always the little things that trip me up. Sometimes I wish I had thought more about what happens when the baby was out while I was pregnant than focusing so much on the pregnancy itself.

Speaking of BJ's... They keep sending me offers for a 60-day free trial. I intended on many occasions to try it out, but I always ended up forgetting. Last night, we finally took them up on the offer. I've never, ever stepped into one of these type of stores in my life. In my former life, what would I ever do with a gallon drum of syrup? Now with a baby and a house, I thought it would be more worthwhile. I admit that I'm sort of fuzzy about what I pay for things. I'm not always the best shopper. I can't be bothered with going around trying to find the cheapest price on things since I still sort of maintain a one-bedroom apartment mentality. This needs to change into a stock-up-and-save mentality, especially in this new economy. Anyway, talk about a bemusing experience. I can't imagine why anyone would ever need *that* much minced garlic? And the one item I'm very keen on price is diapers. They were like $1 cheaper at BJ's. ??? One dollar. That's it. A buck. It's seems better to get them from Amazon and save on tax and gas and time and trouble. I was excited to buy 8 toothbrushes and 6 boxes of Puffs, though. That should set me up for 8 months.

Gosh, I have a lot of commentary on very mundane things today. It's funny how my life has changed that this is my focus. If someone would have told me this 10 years ago. I'd laugh. Unbelievable.

I'm not even going to touch the debates last night. They seem so pointless. Do they change people's minds for real? I highly doubt that. Obama voters are going to think Biden is experienced and knowledgeable while Palin is a folksy rookie who can cram like a college student. McCain voters are going to think... well, I have no idea what they think. I think, in the end, what bothers me most about the Bush administration is the dumbing down of America. Our expectations have gotten so low that just showing up, looking cute and stringing a few talking points together is enough to be applauded as a victory. Sheesh. This whole thing is difficult, though. I'm so grrl power. I love to see girls kick ass. But, could you see Palin with her aw shucks hockey mom demeanor talking to Putin. It's laughable. Time and place, people, time and place.

I clearly need to get tough

Being a mom isn't for the faint of heart. And I clearly need to get tough. I absolutely cannot turn into jelly when she has a boo-boo (that I inflicted on her, no less). I think it just gets her upset since I think she's a sensitive child who picks up on vibes. Here's the sitcho: Peanut has long fingernails. And they grow ridiculously fast. I don't think this an uncommon thing with kids. Anyway, for the past few months (since we've allowed her to have her hands) I've cut her nails while she's asleep. This worked for awhile, but as she gets older - it's not as effective. So, I thought, hell, I'm the mommy, I need to just grab her little hand and cut the nails. I mean, it just wasn't getting done the old way and it needed to. Things went fine with the fingers. She looked a little perplexed, but that's it. Then came the thumb. I ended up nipping her skin and it started to bleed. And it just didn't seem to ever want to stop. At this point, I'm starting to feel a bit frantic. So she starts to cry. Which makes me more frantic. Which makes her scream. Which makes me even more frantic until we are both complete messes. Flashback to the hospital when we received bad advice from the baby nurse and cut her fingernails - and nicked her skin. We got written up so the pediatricians could take a look at what we did. Great, we're already bad parents. Fast forward back to today. We don't have any teeny bandages. Shit. Why don't we have first aid ready for our child? So I jam an adult-sized band-aid onto her thumb. Okay. Crap, she sucks on her hands all the time. What if she sucks the band-aid right off her thumb, swallows it and chokes? Band-aid off. At this point, the cut has clotted. Okay, cool. I go to change her diaper and throw her laundry in the wash. Next thing I notice is some dots of blood on her "Mommy's Little Monster" onesie. AACCK! The cut is bleeding again. Now what? Then I got the genius idea to run her hand under the bathroom tap. Why, I have no clue. It works for burns, I thought. We are both frantic again. I go get another band-aid to jam on her thumb. Since it's nap time, I again can't allow her to wear a band-aid unsupervised. Then a brainstorm. Why don't I swaddle her right arm so she can't get to that bandaged thumb. Yeah. Where are her swaddles? Crap, both of her bigger swaddles are in the laundry. I only have one small one. I cram the screaming child into it. I nurse her. She seems to relax. Hurrah for the magical boob. I'm only partially better. I'm worried that she'll wiggle that arm loose and proceed to then choke on the band-aid. Off it comes for the second time. I put her down to sleep. I go eat some chocolate.

Maybe I should go look. Make sure she isn't bleeding to death.

Damn! She caught me. I snuck in there to peek and she opened her eyes at that moment. I rushed out of there. Hmm... did she look unusually pale? I better go try to peek again.

Okay, she is back asleep. The thumb seems okay, too. I'm such a freaking rookie.

I know this post seems a little melodramatic. The point is that I need to get tough. I managed to turn a little teeny cut into a catastrophe. Or is it a fiasco? Either way, what am I going to do when her first boyfriend doesn't call her?