My mother sent a calendar that had gorgeous food photos with the suggestion I might use them with Bean. So today I quickly glued them to Bristol paper, which will make them less fragile. I’ll trim the edges once they are all dry. There has not been much time or energy for knitting or other creative art ventures, so in the meantime this must do.
The photos are from the Center for Science in the Public Interest calendar.
Bean is better; her fever broke yesterday. Now I have a sore throat and a low grade fever, and I hope this passes just as quickly.
My morning started with feeling punky and then turned odious. (Warning: somewhat gross details follow.) I was eating my toast at the table and Bean was playing on the floor. I had not done a visual sweep of the room as I have learned, having a cat, to get in the habit of doing. For some reason I happen to look over at ?, who was sitting by the sliding glass door playing with ochre-colored chunks of something. It took me a couple seconds that it was not Cheerios. Yep, Stella had regurgitated right there, and for a couple of minutes Bean had a ball playing with all the squishy stuff. Ugh. I caught her just before she put the hair ball in her mouth. I whisked her away, washed her off, and then proceeded to work on the mess. Thank goodness for the Spotbot. It took me about a half an hour because the mess covered about four square feet. Thus began the day.
Right now she is napping and I am stealing a few moments to get this post written. So, what is Bean doing at 11 months?
I’m in the process of coordinating her first birthday party. I’ve decided to keep things simple: serve appetizers and cake, do only a little decorating, and skip the party favors until next year. The party will begin at 2:00, and the singing and cake serving will happen at 3:00. My mother-in-law will be here to assist, and I surely will need it!
Eleven months. Wow.
I’ve never participated in this meme before, but Gerry does so I thought I’d do a quick brain dump. Reader beware: the quality of what comes next might be less than intelligent. I should also mention that the meme focuses on 10 things one is thankful for; I wrote it more generally, though it could be said that everything on this list is something for which I’m grateful.
I sit at the dining table, just having put Bean to bed at 7:45 p.m. Husband is out seeing a movie with a friend; he deserves an occasional fun outing too. The challenge has been that last week I started doing something different with Bean’s schedule, and today I’ve decided it probably isn’t working out.
Before last week, our routine was thus:
Wake at 5:45 or 6:00 a.m., have a bottle
Play until sleepy around 7:30-8:00 a.m., go down for a nap
Up around 9:00 or 9:30 a.m., eat breakfast, play or go out
Bottle at 11-ish, play, then a second nap around 12:30
Up at 1:30 or 2:00, lunch, more play
Another nap around 3:30 or 4:00 sometimes
Dinner at 5:30, play, Husband home for dinner at 6:30
Play, bath, bed at 7:45 or 8:00
Last week I began trying:
Wake at 5:45 or 6:00 a.m., have a bottle
Back to sleep in the crib until she wakes at 8:00 or 8:30
Breakfast at 9:00
Bottle at 11:30
Nap at 1:00
Lunch at 2:00, bottle later, then dinner
Up until 7:45 or 8:00
Even though she is getting the same number of hours of sleep, I noticed with the new schedule she is cranky, more tearful, and tired. She seems to need a nap at 10 or so, but she won’t fall asleep. She has a mid-day long nap, but then ends up exhausted, clingy, and whiny in late afternoon; however, she won’t nap then either. So it makes for many many hours between sleep periods where she is just not her best self.
Tomorrow I’ll return to the former schedule and observe how this works over the next week. My hope is that she regains her cheerful balance. I think she simply needs more frequent, if shorter, naps.
I wish I had more to say, but at this time of day I’m lucky if I can form a thought at all! A novel and bed await.
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Next on my to-read list (once I can get a copy from the library): The Lincolns: Portrait of a Marriage
My energy seems to have returned, which makes me feel cheerier and optimistic. This shift occurred over the weekend when I got some time to myself.
A Guatemalan friend recommended some authors to me, so on Thursday I dove into Antigua and My Life Before, by Marcela Serrano. I finished yesterday completely satisfied with the encounter. I have not read much in recent months. In part this is because in recent years I turned to non-fiction more often, and I find I can’t sustain my attention on it now. Slipping into another reality via a good story is what I need. The next book is The Bejeweled Boy by Miguel Angel Asturias. My friend also encouraged me to try Gabriel Garcia Marquez again; I had tried to read One Hundred Years of Solitude several times but it did not engage me. She has suggested I try Love in the Time of Cholera, so this is on my list to borrow from my beautiful local library.
In addition to reading, I was able to go out shopping to use a gift card I’d won at a social event. It was at Lakeshore Learning, so it was still oriented toward my child, but I love to look at educational games and teaching supplies, and I had fun there. And I took a relaxing soak yesterday evening. These moments rejuvenated me.
I have another reason to feel happy as well. My parents have booked a plane flight to visit us in October! We are thrilled and excited they are making the long journey from Syracuse, especially because they are in their mid-70s and travel is not so easy for them (and many others) any more. They will get to meet their granddaughter in person! We have a busy season coming up; visitors are coming in August, September, and October, and then holiday season begins. Every day I pay attention — as often as I can — because so much happens, and Bean is changing so fast. I try to embrace and yet not cling.
One thing I’ve noticed about having a child is that one parent typically takes the majority of the pictures, which means more time spent behind the lens than in front. That would be me. My sister intends today to get some shots of me with Bean. This was one from the early morning. I look pretty perky for 7 a.m.! (Bean and I arose at 6:10.)
Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things.
–T.S. Eliot
Bean started pulling up this week, and yesterday she began cruising a little too. Today she pulled herself up under the dining table, and I had the camera handy. A few moments later she began to whimper, because she couldn’t figure out how to sit down again. In other places she lets go and sits down, but here she must have felt caged, or that it wasn’t safe to do that (and with the chair nearby she’s right). So I helped her.
I am her personal jungle gym. She’s changing so rapidly. The exer-saucer is passé now.
This is how we spend 40 minutes or so before a nap. We sit on the floor with me right behind her. She pulls a book off the shelf, I read and set it aside, and she pulls another, and another, etc. until she yawns and rubs her eyes or bursts into tears for no obvious reason. Then we cuddle and rock and she drifts sweetly asleep.
You can see a bigger picture (if you’re curious about the titles) here.
Stop for five minutes and let Phil Plait refresh your perspective about what awesome feats humans are capable of. Let him infect you with his enthusiasm for scientific discovery. His energy is inspiring. If the video doesn’t embed, you can see it here.
Thanks to Dale for sharing this.
Today has been a day of accomplishment for Bean. She is now crawling on hands and knees; the army crawl still gets used, but she’s definitely using the other method, especially outdoors.
But that’s not all!
As of today (who knows what neuron finally developed?) she claps her hands. Sing the “If You’re Happy and You Know It” or play Patty Cake and that starts a round of clapping. So cute! She looks very proud of herself, and delighted. And when I say “kiss kiss” she makes a kissing noise. At the playground the 2-year-old son of a friend gave Bean a kiss on the cheek. He loves babies. When he attempted to give her another one, she turned her head as if to try to kiss him! We had a good laugh — and a glimpse of the future. (Eek!)
But wait! There’s more!
She drank from her sippy cup. At first I helped by holding it, but soon she grabbed it and ended up consuming 3 ounces of water from it.
Bean also played in the park sand today. She didn’t put it in her mouth. She desperately wanted to put a toy that was in the sand in her mouth (the wheel of a little dump truck) but I’d say no and redirect her. She went home with socks full of sand and dusty clothes. I think we’re entering the days of daily baths now.
And if you live in Santa Clara, it’s possible for you to catch it too. At the end of the summer, Bean will receive a free book, and since I’ll participate, I’ll get one too!
Until recently Bean ate her solid food (stage 2) with gusto. Twice in the last three weeks, though, she has refused most solid food (she’ll take a tablespoon or two of cereal and fruit in the a.m.) in favor of milk. Previously she was eating 3 tablespoons of cereal and a 4-ounce jar of fruit for breakfast, then a 4-ounce jar of veggie for lunch and another for dinner; her daily milk intake was 19-21 ounces. The first time it happened for about five days, and she returned to eating solids again for nearly a week. This latest boycott began on Monday. She’s drinking good amounts of milk (actually increased her intake). She’s otherwise happy and healthy. She’s napping a bit more often and longer as well; this morning she took a two-hour nap. Possibly is this a growth spurt? Or maybe she’s getting tired of semi-liquid solid food and it’s time to offer small bits of our regular meals? (Though she has refused bananas when offered, and it’s her very very favorite food.) Maybe babies instinctively know what they need. She is very clear when she’s hungry and doesn’t want the fare I offer. My question is: has anyone else encountered this? If you have, I’d be interested in knowing your experience.
But I made this instead.
Bean is fascinated by buttons. If she’s crying and you show her buttons, she immediately stops and begins examining them. I have a collection of buttons (some inherited from my Mom), so I sorted through for interesting ones. Then I cadged an old shirt from Husband and constructed a pillow cover out of it, sewed them on, and covered an ugly pillow (purchased on clearance for $1.50 at Linens-n-Things). Voila! A new toy (to be used with supervision) for almost no money. You can see greater detail here.
She commando crawls to the bookshelves and pulls out whatever is in reach. There’s a video on my Flickr site for friends and family to watch if you want.
Yes, we’re terrible parents who applied some of Ferber’s concepts. Actually, the book has great information about the nature of sleep in children and adults. We’ve found that more helpful than the training techniques he suggests.
Increasingly I live in the time called Now. My days are full; as Bean becomes more active and engaged, the more present I become. Oh, I do think about future things (my tasks for the next day), and I find past ruminations intrude often. When I “come to” my mind gnawing a past experience like a bone, I stop myself and let the thought go. I’m sure this happens at least dozens of times daily. However, by the end of the day I creep into bed having felt I really lived all day. Besides, by bedtime all I am aware of is that it is time to sleep. I’m tired, very tired, at sunset, but I enjoy my life more than ever. I’m never bored anymore.
I love watching Bean when Husband reads to her. There are a bunch of books that we’ve read often enough that she squeals when we get to parts that make her happy. She’s sitting entirely on her own now. I observed as Husband sat on the floor next to her reading Barnyard Banter (a book we like so much I wrote a review for Amazon) that she squeaked with happiness and alternated between looking at the book and looking up at him. If there was ever a moment to feel adoration, that was it.
I myself am adored beyond my wildest expectations. I am desired, needed, demanded. Bean haaaates the new play yard. Hates it, hates it, hates it. It is prison. It is a place of betrayal and abandonment. It’s where Mommy puts Bean when Mommy needs two free hands and for Bean to be safe. The instant she is set onto the mat she begins wailing. I do what I need to do quickly and talk to her when I’m near enough. If I must leave the room I tell her and say that I’ll be right back. The tears aren’t just sadness. Oh no! She’s screaming mad too! Do not want! I’m going to report you to management!! So I believe separation anxiety has begun.
Another vocal development is what I call the Groan of Concentration. There’s a sound she makes when she examines a toy closely or when she’s trying a new move; it sounds like she’s softly clearing her throat, but it’s not a long “harrrumph.” It’s got a little staccato to it. Her repertoire over the months has grown so much. As a newborn there was the Cindy Lou Who coo. Then the Beavis and Butthead chuckle (which became a dulcet laugh). Then the Poop Shriek; she inhales sharply as though she’s watching a shocking event unfold. When we hear that sound, we know what needs to happen. And now the Groan of Concentration. What an interesting little person she is!
I marvel at how Bean’s existence has opened my life. It’s also reassuring to see how people react to her. We go out daily (for my well-being as much as hers).
On Thursday we went to the mall. I’m not a fan of malls, but I thought it would be interesting (anything different is inherently interesting to her). The sunlight streamed through cathedral-type ceilings, and there colors and noises galore. The first store I entered was the Build-a-Bear Workshop. An employee approached to greet me and as soon as she saw Bean she said “Oh hello!” I’m sure they say that to every baby. Well, Bean is always ready with a smile, so she gave that gift. The woman cooed and exclaimed, and called her coworker over. And of course the more they talked to her and me, and used encouraging happy tones, the more Bean cooed and babbled. And the women said things like, “You know this baby gets talked to a lot!” “She’s so happy!” “Look how interested she is!”
Later we sat on a bench watching people. An elderly lady in a loud pink floral blouse and blazer approached and said, “Look at you!” Bean smiled and wiggled. The woman continued, “Does my colorful outfit rock your world?” and Bean babbled, and the conversation continued. As she departed, she said, “You’re a happy, happy baby. I feel it in my heart.”
I went into LUSH and a similar encounter occurred. A staff member approached to greet me and upon seeing Bean, smiled and said hello, and Bean responded. Among the many exclamations uttered, the woman said, “Oh, you’re beautiful! You have such a spark. You’re going to have love and joy all your life.” Then she spoke to me how she loves babies, and of her nephew. Bean opens up all sorts of conversations for me.
It was interesting watching Bean as we waited for the elevator. A ‘tween and her mother were also waiting. Bean gazed at the young woman, studying her intently. The girl looked at Bean and I saw Bean’s cheeks twitch, ready to smile, but the girl did not smile at or speak to her. (That would have been so uncool.) I watched the smile die, but Bean continued to watch the girl, who would glance at her occasionally.
We encountered one more person in the mall, an older woman, who commented on her alertness. (This woman also felt free to grill me with questions about how I feed her, since Bean’s petite, and whether I intended to have more kids. Irritating!)
At Central Park, similar incidents occur. A couple weeks ago a woman came rushing over as though she were greeting a long-lost friend. At first I thought Do I know you? Should I know you? because of how familiar she acted, but it turned out to be all for Bean. The lady said she just loves babies, and that she’s all done having kids (she had a 6-year old with her). She got down on her knees, cooed and spoke to Bean, said blessings in Hindi. I asked if she’d like to hold Bean and the answer was yes. She kissed Bean and hugged her, and when she handed Bean back, she said I’d made her day.
Yesterday at the park, a man with a leashed black dog was there with his grandchild. Bean is fascinated by dogs and cats (thank you, Sandra Boynton). She wriggled in my arms, and I asked if she could meet the dog. The man said yes, the dog is friendly. So I kneeled down and the man helped us pet her. The man commented on how curious and friendly Bean was, how much she smiled, how bright her eyes. And Bean got her first doggy kiss on the face (unexpectedly, and the man apologized, but Bean didn’t mind).
With her grandparents, aunts, and uncles being far away, and with no cousins, Bean is truly a singular child. So the fact that people are drawn to her and that she likes people makes me feel joyful and hopeful.
In honor of Beverly Cleary’s birthday, tomorrow April 12th, is Drop Everything And Read Day.
Give yourself permission to do nothing else if you so desire!
Stayed up much too late last night (past 11:30!!) and woke at 5:30.
Bean ate a whole tablespoon of rice cereal and the same amount of applesauce this morning.
She ate two teaspoons of peas at lunch and dinner each.
She napped only 30 minutes in the morning and woke (she often wakes at 30 minutes and needs to learn how to settle back to sleep); she clearly needed more sleep, so I waited an hour. She cried the entire time. Husband stayed home from work today to “hold my hand” while I waited and learned to tolerate this. I’m on my own tomorrow, and I think we’ll be fine.
I took Bean out for an errand after the failed nap. Around noon (90 minutes after ending the last attempt) I rocked her and put her in the crib. She whimpered at most five minutes and then slept for 80. Her maximum nap time seems to be 80 minutes. She awoke and we went to the park.
Since she was still an hour short of rest, she practically rubbed her eyes off her face, so I rocked her at 5:15 and put her down in the crib again. She napped for 40 minutes. Then we all had dinner, she had a bath, and went to sleep at 7:30 like an angel.
In addition to playing at the park, Bean was also introduced to West African drumming. A man was practicing on a Djembe. He was thrilled to be asked about it and let Bean touch the goat-skin surface. She and I danced while he played, and then we took a walk.
Bean might be able to understand hello and bye-bye. I’ve started prompting her to wave at her reflection in the mirror and I wave too. Today we had many opportunities to say hello and bye-bye to her father. He waved and she waved back!! She probably doesn’t “get” what it means, but she’s mimicking and responding. He nearly melted into a puddle of schmoopiness each time she waved.
Can I tell you how happy I am? I love every day with my daughter.
