Category Archives: Motherhood

Dress-Up

Bean is beginning to show interest in dress-up and playing pretend. I wear headbands, and she calls them crowns. She has a little satin purple headband that she calls her crown. I have a large basket waiting for dress-up items. I bought her a tutu today (there is no way I have the skill or the tools to sew one). Here are some things I remember from childhood that I’d like to have:

Cowboy vest and hat
Cape
Fancy dresses
Gloves
Hats
Scarves & ties (I’d like to get her a feather one too)
Wigs
Jewelry
Shoes

The trick is, I don’t want to spend a fortune. I looked at many kid toys sites, and an outfit for one thing (like a fireman) can run up to $40! I paid a little more for the tutu than I wanted, but I told myself I’d likely not find it much cheaper unless I made it myself. (It can double as a fairy outfit, and I will make a wand for her out of my art supplies.) I can try to hit Goodwill and garage sales. And I’m not insisting on child-size clothes; adult outfits can be fun to wear. If any reader has items they would like to unload, please let me know. (I don’t own fancy dresses.)

We desperately need a child-size table and chairs as well. Space is an issue, but she deserves a right-size workspace of her own. The cost, again, is a factor. Small furniture can carry big prices!

Treasures

Although we live in an urban area, Bean and I find many natural treasures. We bring them home and put them in a shoe box to explore later. There are duck feathers, crow feathers, seed pods, bark, pine cones, and stones to examine. Bean has lost interest in playing on slides and swings. She prefers to take walks, preferably long ones. She’s very good about holding our hand when we tell her to and when the street is busy, but she cherishes the chance to walk “all by myself” — and when we are on a quiet street or in a park, I give her that chance every time.

treasures

Month 21

Today Bean is 21 months old. She sparkles more by the day.

Bean has a fuzzy sheep toy she was given at Christmas. Until recently he was benignly ignored, but he has become popular enough to be requested in bed. The other morning when I went to get her from the crib, she hugged him and said, “His name is Baa.” And so she has named her first toy. (All the other toys with names are ones we have bestowed and she has used, but this is the first toy she has named herself.)

She has acute hearing. One of the most frequent words we hear daily is “noise.” This is her way of commenting that she hears a sound and a request from us to identify it. Many times a day we have such exchanges:

Bean: Noise.
Me: That’s a motorcycle.
Bean: Moto-cycle.
—
Bean: Noise.
Me: That’s an ambulance siren.
Bean: Goes so fast!
Me: Yes, an ambulance goes fast.
—
And so on, perhaps 30 times a day, for car horns, people shouting, phones ringing, car stereos thumping, etc.

Bean has always been fairly passive regarding possessions. If she is playing with a toy and another child yanks it from her grasp, she lets it go. She’s not always happy about it, but she has never yanked it back or been aggressive. It concerns me a little; the world is full of grabby people, and I wonder how she will become assertive. Also, if there is something being given by an adult, such as stamps on the hand after class, and there is a crowd of kids, she will hang back. She wants to get the stamp but will wait until everyone else has gotten theirs. Even if she gets to the teacher first, if another child approaches, she moves away. In the pet store the other day she wanted to look at fish. A little boy toddled up next to her to look in the same aquarium, and she moved away. Wherever she went, he followed (the boy was curious and friendly), and she kept moving; she could not get the chance to look alone. I’m not sure what to make of this. It’s probably best if I make no conclusions.

Anyway, we have a book by Karen Katz she has read for many months called I Can Share. It features scenarios where little kids have something another wants, and the child who has it says, “MY [doll, shovel, snack] you can’t have it, but maybe…” and on the next page is says “You can play this this doll”; or “We can make a castle together;” or “I’ll give you a box of your own.” After several scenes like this, the book ends with, “Now I know how to share, and I like it!” and shows two kids sharing crayons.

While compromise may not seem like sharing, what I have learned is that at this age it’s important for a child to feel secure in possessing an object before she will share willingly. To be able to say, “I’m using this, but you can play with that toy, and when I’m done I’ll give it to you,” is important. But that’s not my point here. All this has been background providing context for this: when someone takes a toy from Bean these days, she says, “I can’t share! I can’t share!” This is her way of telling the child to give it back and alerting the adults she’s upset. She has bypassed the physical aggression stage to using her words. Way to go!

Speaking of words, the sentences become fuller and more complex all the time, and her vocabulary grows. For some reason, certain words strike her as hilarious. The most recent ones that make her laugh are sprout and underpants.

Today I announced we were going to Target to shop. I said to Bean, “Mommy needs to buy some new underpants.” And Bean said, “I want underpants too!” So I bought her a set of little girl undies, not that she’s anywhere near ready to use them or be potty trained. (I also bought a package of Pull-ups, which is what we will start using when potty training commences.) However, she was very happy to have her very own underpants. I told her she was growing to be a big girl, and when she felt ready to tell me about needing to use the potty she would be ready to wear those.

Given how these 21 months has zoomed by, that will come soon enough.

The Latest

So many tidbits to share about Bean, who is such a marvelous and interesting little person. Without further ado:

  • She’s becoming more aware of feeling and articulation and is building a narrative. One say she fell down hard on her back at Little Gym after stepping on a ball. She was uninjured but scared. The next week when the balls were brought out, she started to cry and said, “I’m scared!” and then “I want a hug.” I held her while she watched kids play with the balls. She is also fascinated by trains, but finds them scary. We often visit the train station and watch about four trains come and go. She told her father the story about how their loud screeching brakes frightened her.
  • Bean also finds certain songs in minor keys that sound mournful to be scary, such as All the Pretty Little Horses, or certain Loreena McKennitt songs.
  • When she gets mad of late, she often throws down what she is holding – a book, stuffed animal, crayon – and announces through tears and wails that she has thrown the item down. Or she spits and then says, “I’m drooooooling!!!!” Or she bangs her head against a wall and cries that she is hurt. It’s so dramatic. It’s so clear that she is angry and the only way she can express it is to throw down something she values or to hurt her self and then cry and exclaim what she did. She also narrates her actions: I’m crying, I’m sad, I’m mad. I think it’s wonderful that she can say these things. I hope she outgrows the self-injury behavior soon, though.
  • When Bean leaves her music class, she says, “Bye-bye, music class.”
  • We are teaching her the word please. I used to say, “Can you ask for [X] nicely?” And she’d parrot, “Nicely.” Then I’d ask her to say please. And now it’s a game. Sometimes I request she ask nicely, and she says “Nicely,” and I look at her and say, “No, come on, what’s the magic word?” To which she replies with a cheesy grin, “Pleeeeeeeeease!” Yet she also more frequently uses the word voluntarily when asking for something.
  • Bean is discovering more of her body. She announces while getting dressed or bathed, “I have nipples!” and touches them. The other day I changed in front of her, and she said, “Mommy has nipples. Mommy has owls!! Owls!” I can she how she would think that part of my anatomy looks like owl eyes.
  • She knows her belly button, and below that are what we call her “girl parts.” I was changing her diaper, and she reached down with her hand and said, “Girl parts!” I replied, “Yes, those are your girl parts.” She exclaimed, “I LOVE girl parts!!” Made me laugh. (And yes, I’m aware this of one of those stories she might cringe over later; I’m still pondering when I will start restricting these little stories to email.)
  • She sings a lot: ABCs, Twinkle Twinkle, Baa Baa Black Sheep, Two Little Blackbirds, Ally Galoo and more. I’m amazed with her retention.
  • The other day after I sang her nap lullabies, Bean said, “The end,” and kissed me.
  • Bean has used the potty four times to pee. It’s not something I press, but it’s interesting she is expressing interest.
  • She nows plays pretend with her toys. She changes Waddles the penguin’s diaper, does nosy-nosy (Eskimo kisses), tickles the toy, asks if he prefers to hear one song or another.
  • We have had to put the Babar book away for now. The first Babar book explains how he came to be alone – a hunter killed his mother. Until recently it didn’t bother her. Then one morning as Husband read that part, she went ballistic with tears and demanded me. She has been very intensely attached to me more of late. I’m sure she doesn’t understand the concept of killing, but she does grasp Mommy, gone, and sad.
  • We have a going out ritual that I think helps her deal with separation anxiety. She stands at the top of the stairs and says, “Mommy close the door.” I go through the door to the garage to put stuff in the car, and behind me as it closes I hear a wail. I turn around immediately and go back, and she is standing on the top step looking worried and relieved with her arms outstretched. I pick her up and we go to the car.
  • We take daily walks in the neighborhood and find interesting things to explore. We found an almost whole eggshell that looked as though it had hatched a bird. We’ve seen snails and explored how their antennae curl up when touched; I picked them up the by the shell so she could see the underside. We sniff flowers (we love jasmine), pick up pine cones, and watch ants. We do the “silly walk” (sort of a goose-step) or walk on tippy-toe. I’m not self-conscious about being seen doing silly things; I even caught a driver smiling at us.
  • She’s still fascinated by trucks, and we watch the garbage truck every week. She says she wants to ride in it.
  • Bean also says some other charming things, or speaks sentences that surprise me, such as:
    • ’Member to look out for cars! Don’t bump cars.
    • Crayons are fun! [sniffs them] They smell good!
    • Daddy reading a magazine on the sofa.
    • I love [this book, cookies, bubbles]. (I find it interesting that she has naturally come to use “I love” as an expression of enthusiastic endorsement of things she likes.)
  • One of her books features a lost kitten adopted by a family of mice. He encounters milk in a saucer, though, and his brother mouse warns him it’s probably poison. He drinks it and says, “Mmmmmm! Wonderful stuff!” Bean also says after drinking water, “Wonderful stuff!”
  • There’s another book she loves: If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. If you give a mouse a cookie, he’s going to ask for a glass of milk, then a straw, then a napkin, etc. Well, upon reading this to her the other day, she requested milk in a glass with a straw and drank about three ounces! This is four months after we took her bottles away. She has only drunk a sip from a straw and glass since that request, but it’s a start. She did eat half an ounce of smoked mozzarella yesterday, too.

Bean will be 21 months old in about a week. We’re having the time of our lives.

Life Is Messy

I have a list of the little things I plan to write about that Bean is doing, but it’s late and I’m wiped out. She is a busy, busy child! So loving and cheerful too (most of the time). So here is a video to provide a glimpse until I have the energy to write. (If the embedded video doesn’t know, click this link.)

Perplexed

The last few days, my joints have ached, particularly in my forearms and hands. They feel stiff and painful to move. This morning, I woke up with completely numb hands. It took about 30 minutes before they were fully mobile. My initial reaction was, “WTF??!!”

Whatever the cause or problem, this will affect my writing and typing. I’m having difficulty even holding a pen. So there will continue to be infrequent and brief posts here. Sorry about that.

In The Moment

Life is prodding me to stay present and not borrow trouble in the future. This is a discipline, one that requires traipsing after my thoughts like I do after my toddler.

The microwave broke again, despite our being careful not to use the front burner to cook steamy things (which apparently caused the circuits to short out last December, because the cupboards are not built to code, and the microwave is too close to the stovetop). It was a very expensive ($400+) repair the first time. Do you know how much we use a microwave? Dozens of times a day.

I mentioned this frustration at a play date, and another mother gave me a microwave that was sitting unused in her garage. They’ve bought a new house, so it’s one less thing for her to move as well. My problem is half-solved!
—
My knee has been cracking more frequently of late. Yes, the knee that had surgery. It’s not the kneecap (though that cracks a little occasionally), but the femur and tibia crack when I walk up stairs or move certain ways. It hurts, too. I can’t produce the problem on command, however, so pinpointing it will be hard. I’ve started to compensate for my lack of confidence in that leg by limping a little, which has worsened the pain in my left heel as well. I feel old again. There will be no easy solution to this.
—
This morning my little Bean and Husband gave me sweet cards that made me cry, some perfume (“my” scent that I’ve used 15 years), and Lindor truffles. Husband got up with me at 6 a.m. and made us pancakes for breakfast. We went to a park for 90 minutes, and then we went to look at a house. We liked it. It might be the one. But we’ll see. Mustn’t get ahead of ourselves.
—

Small and Marvelous

Small events qualify as marvelous around here.

This morning, Husband and I helped Bean get her shirt on. Before we got her pants on, she said, “I need peepee, I need peepee,” and wandered off to the bathroom. I followed and asked if she wanted to sit on her potty. I took her diaper off (this was the first time without a diaper) and she sat on the potty; I squatted in front of her with a book. I said “Take your time sweetie,” and then she proceeded to pee!

Wow! She initiated, and she did it. She wanted to touch it (after all, she made it), but I distracted her by helping her wipe. Then Husband came to put her diaper back on, and we finished dressing. We praised her for doing this big girl thing, but we didn’t make a huge deal of cheering over it.

Bean has made a few other notable small achievements.

  • She can tell you her Mommy’s and Daddy’s first names (but still calls us Mommy and Daddy)
  • She has wooden letters in her room that spell her name; she says goodnight to the letters every night and nap, and now she spells her name.
  • She can tell you her last name is Harper.
  • She started asking to use a fork and has managed to spear a few items and get the food into her mouth.

Bean used to answer “yes” to questions when she agreed. Lately she has switched to an enthusiastic “Oh, yes!” She also has gotten curious about a musical angel doll that her Gramma gave her when she was born. She’s fascinated with the wings and the pull cord that makes the music box play.

We took a short walk to the mailbox a few minutes ago, and I spotted a ladybug. I showed her, picked it up, and we examined it several moments. I guided the bug into her hand. Bean was fascinated. She kissed the ladybug, and I cautioned her to blow a kiss instead. She came in and immediately went to her father and announced that she saw a ladybug and held it in her hand. It’s been the highlight of her day so far.

For Me

After nap, I went out with Bean to run an errand, and I found myself driving past the Chung Tai Zen Center of Sunnyvale. I’d heard of them a couple years ago but never pursued actually locating the center. I’d also been on a mailing list for another Zen center in Mountain View, but I just haven’t gotten there yet.

As I drove by, I told myself I’d stop in next Wednesday when the babysitter relieves me for awhile. Then I changed my mind, because I felt nudged to take action right then. So I unloaded Bean (who was wearing her cheap sunglasses on a rainy day) and carried her in with me.

I was greeted effusively by a monk who was very sweet to Bean. I told them I had stopped in on a whim and that I wondered if they held sessions or classes. I was introduced to the Vice Abbott who gave me some handouts. He had led us to a classroom where he I think planned to give me time to read the material and then return to answer questions I had, but with Bean that wasn’t feasible. So we chatted briefly, and I learned that they are just about to offer their next session of classes. Each class is two hours, with the first hour being instruction and the second being meditation.

The level 1 class involves learning about meditation methods: breath-counting, mindfulness of the breath, middle way reality (a Zen practice). The topics covered are introduction to Buddhism and Zen, Karma and causality, the Four Noble Truths (suffering, the causes of suffering, nirvana, the Noble Eightfold Path), Three Refuges, Five Precepts. This class is on Saturday afternoons and is three months long.

The one hitch is that the time of class, 3-5 p.m., falls directly into the time we usually attend open houses. Some open houses are only held on Saturdays. While we are taking May off from searching, we do plan to return to house hunting later. My attendance at class will interfere with this. But this is something I really need. Husband supports me doing this, and I consider my timing propitious.

So that’s where I will spend next Saturday afternoon. Yay me.

Infusion

Although today is cloudy and rainy, I’m energized and in a better mood. This morning I went to a friend’s home for a play date and we had a great visit. A little later another friend came with her daughter, and our three daughters played together while we adults got to catch up. It had been awhile since we’d been able to visit for an extended time.

I pushed Bean a little and stayed longer than I usually do. Most of the time I have us home by 11 a.m. for lunch and down for a nap no later than 12:15, because in the past missing that window meant she didn’t sleep at all (or very long) due to being overtired. But today I needed to visit, so we got home at 11:45 and ate a quick lunch. She was close to a tantrum, being so tired, but she went to sleep quickly at 12:30. I’m hoping for a usual nap of 90 minutes to two hours.

I’ve had a little too much coffee, and I need some food, and I feel a wave of sleepiness coming on…

Replenishment

Bean woke at 5:40 a.m. this morning, which is unusually early; for the past few months she shifted her wake time to 6-6:30, and sometimes as late as 7:00. I left her be until 6:10. When I went into her bedroom and leaned over the crib, she said, “I could eat an elephant!” (This is what a hungry lion says in one of her current favorite books, The Saggy Baggy Elephant.) As I carried her downstairs, she also told me how Stella (our cat) was mad and angry and kept repeating she could eat an elephant. I suspect that she was telling me she was mad at not being retrieved right when she woke up, because she was hungry.

Then she requested peanut butter toast and ate only four bites. Perplexing child! (Later she ate two yogurts in one sitting.)

One of Bean’s aunts sent a bunch of books I remember well from childhood, and Bean now enjoys them routinely: There’s a Wocket in My Pocket!; Go, Dog. Go! (a tedious book); A Fly Went By; Are You My Mother? (another tedious book to me, but not to her). She also passionately enjoys Richard Scarry’s Best Word Book Ever; Busy, Busy Town; and Cars and Trucks and Things That Go (especially Goldbug). These are her most requested books of late.

And quite recently, out of the blue, Bean has started singing songs, some of which she has not heard for many months (from former Music Together classes). She gets the lyrics correct some of the time, but it doesn’t really matter; she likes to sing little ditties to herself that she makes up too. I marvel at how her brain is blooming.
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On another, less marvelous note, however, is the fact that sometimes I feel the hours of each day weigh on me, and I’m feeling again as though I haven’t got a “me.” Bean is a busy, interactive child. I often find that when I put her down for a nap, I need one too. And by the time she goes to bed at 8:00 p.m., I’m so spent I’ve no energy to write (even email) or do anything recreational; I’m even too tired to go out by myself to get groceries. I’m in bed by 9:30, usually asleep. In addition to this is the fact that my social interaction with other mothers has been cut due to changes in my and my friends’ activities and schedules, so the days feel long. If I deprive myself of the nap, my ass drags through the afternoon, and I usually end up drinking a couple servings of coffee just to stay conscious. It is not an enjoyable way to pass time. Yet this is what I am doing today, because I really need to write and reflect.

What this means, for me, is that I often find myself thinking about the next thing when I’m with Bean. I’m thinking about her next snack, or how many minutes until 8 a.m. when I can get Husband up so I can have my hour to exercise and shower. I’m thinking about how to get through the afternoon until he comes home at 6:30ish. I find myself not enjoying yet another game of “I’m gonna get you!” or the 20th reading of the same story. I feel spent. And I feel sad about this, because Bean is comprehending and communicating ever more, and becoming such an interesting little person. But lately I feel I’m putting in time.

What’s interesting about this is that she is no more demanding, really, than she was a year ago. She could do far less for herself a year ago, and I was physically more constrained by this. She wants to interact more, but in reality her communication skills are so developed that we rarely have skirmishes due to misunderstandings. Her will is getting stronger. She dawdles more, defies requests more frequently. I have to be creative in my responses, pick my battles, decide when to wait and when I’ve had enough and just want to get the task done. Once upon a time I just picked her up and went. Perhaps this is where my exhaustion arises?

I wish I was more energized. I wish I appreciated her more in this time period. I’m unsettled by my internal responses.

But really, I think she’s amazing (she’ll be 20 months old next week). Here’s proof — if the embedded video doesn’t work, click here. (And now it’s time for my nap.)

Already Over

Today was my last day of physical therapy. I felt a little wistful, because I’ve gone twice a week for six weeks, and you get to know the therapists and aides a bit. I would highly recommend Santa Clara Sports Therapy to anyone; they are professional and friendly, and the atmosphere is not at all intimidating. I’m going to miss Ray, the therapist who worked on my knee the most. He was always upbeat and helpful, and his massages were thorough. My knee still has some swelling and occasional pain, but I’m fairly mobile and my legs are much stronger.
—
There was a confirmed case of swine flu in a local high school. Branham high school was closed for a week; the infected student had recently traveled to southern California. There are three other probable cases of swine flu in Santa Clara county as well. While Husband and I don’t want to overreact, we decided to cancel our outing to the SF Zoo on Sunday. We figured it’s unwise to be exposed to hundreds of people and the surfaces they touch, and caution doesn’t cost us anything. The zoo isn’t going anywhere.

Smile!

Once Bean stopped using a bottle for milk, we switched from putting her liquid multivitamin (Poly-Vi-Sol) in her bottle to giving her the dose directly. We’d do it just before bed and brush her teeth after. It’s a dark brown vitamin that I think tastes vile (the iron especially), but she didn’t object.

Sometime around late February I noticed her teeth looked a little grayish around the edges. By her doctor visit March 10, they were definitely gray. The doctor referred us to a pediatric dentist. We felt terrible. Had we “broken” her in some way? Was this permanent?

I researched possible causes. Was it too much fluoride? No. Our zip code area in Santa Clara doesn’t have fluoridated water, and the dose of fluoride drops we give her is correct for her age and weight. Was it lack of calcium? We ruled that out, because even though she still refuses milk (and cottage cheese, cream cheese, regular cheese), she eats a little yogurt and gets a Viactiv supplement daily (her Chewie). So she receives much-needed calcium and vitamin D daily. Was it too much iron? Her vitamin contains iron, and I had my suspicions.

My suspicions were correct. The iron in the vitamin stained her teeth gray. Bean and I went to the dentist last Thursday, where I lay on the chair with Bean lying on top of me (on her back) while the dentist and assistant polished her teeth back to their pearly white state. Bean was a champ. She cried lustily in protest, but she did not fight, and we were done quickly. For her bravery she got a cool little plastic toy phone that she loves to use.

The dentist said her teeth were in fine condition otherwise, and we’ll go back in six months for a check-up. And we switched from the liquid vitamin to a one-third dose of a Flintstone Complete (which is fruit-flavored and thus eagerly consumed).

Readiness

The other day, Bean took one of her stuffed animals and put it on the potty. When it was “done potty,” I gave her toilet paper and she wiped its bottom. She also takes toilet paper when I use the bathroom and says, “I wiping my bobbum,” and tries to wipe herself (clothed of course). I haven’t attempted to get her on the potty with a bare bottom; she’ll sit on it a few seconds while clothed. I’m not in any rush. It’s just really interesting to see her awareness and interest develop.

However, after a diaper change like the one I just did, I wouldn’t mind if her reasoning were more developed. She fought this one because she wanted to walk around more. She was poopy, and I wanted to change it. She began to fight by rolling over, so I picked her up again and said I knew she wanted to walk, and she could after the diaper change. I asked her to help Mommy. But she’d have none of that (though sometimes this request actually works). So the entire time she screamed, kicked, and tried to roll over. Kicking is a big No-No, so once I got her changed I gave her a time-out.

Time-out consists of sitting her in a chair and, because of her age, holding her there for about 60-90 seconds while she screams and cries and desperately asks for a hug, to get off the chair, to read a book, anything but what’s happening. Then through her sobs she starts to say, “Calm down,” and I say, “That’s right, caaaaalm. Calm. Calm down.” Once she is calmer, I state the misbehavior and reinforce the message of what is appropriate. So in this case, I told her kicking at people is bad, that I was sad she kicked at me, and that we do not kick people. Then I gathered her into a hug (after a storm and time-out she always clings to me as though she wants to meld with me) and asked her to say she was sorry, and she said, “Sorry.” I said, “Are you sorry for kicking at Mommy?” She replied, “Sorry kicking.” I said that the diaper change will go faster if she helps Mommy next time.

By this time Husband came down (he’d been asleep and the tantrum woke him), and she asked him for a hug after I explained what had occurred. Then he gave me a break, and here I am writing this post.

At this age, I don’t expect perfect retention of the lesson. It will take time and repeated reinforcement of the message, but she is starting to understand.

Can’t Get Enough

I can’t get enough of Susan Boyle’s voice. I read a commentary about what about her compels so many people.

Who among us does not move through life with the hidden sense, maybe even quiet desperation, that we are destined for more? That underneath our ordinary exterior lays an extraordinary soul? That given the right opportunity, the right stage, the right audience, we would shine as the stars we truly are?

That promise underlies most successful advertising campaigns: the desire to transform from caterpillar to butterfly. Maybe if you buy that (fill in the blank), people will see you for the sophisticated, cool, gorgeous, talented, lovable person you know you really are.

But in our less desperate moments, we know we can’t purchase that transformation. Although Susan Boyle became an overnight sensation, hers was not an overnight transformation. She’s been practicing singing since she was 12. In her case, overnight was 35 years.

It’s easy to admire Susan. But it’s far more interesting to be transformed by her. “There is grace,” a friend recently wrote to me, “in being molded by your own gifts.”

To allow yourself to be molded by your own gifts takes courage. You have to be willing to stand there, exposed and authentic, while the audience rolls their eyes at you and sneers, expecting failure. And then, of course, you have to fail, laugh or cry, and keep going until, one day, they stop laughing and start clapping.

–Peter Bregman, CNN

And Bean can’t get enough of the music. She requests music to be played at every meal. She wants to dance to it several times during the day. If music of any kind is on, she will begin to rock on her feet; she’s also incorporating arm movements now. She has begun to use rhythm and tonal patterns; the CDs have these little chants and rhymes, and she now does them. She is remembering lyrics to these songs and repeating them, and also starting to sing notes. She sings ABCs almost completely now. Her memory astounds me, as does her capacity to absorb new information. She is almost desperately interested in violins, guitars, keyboards, and drums. One of her favorite Little Golden books is Animal Orchestra. In Animal Town, it was musical day. The orchestra had gathered to play. She enthusiastically attends her Music Together class; most of the time she stands and rocks to the rhythm of the songs, absorbing the activities and sounds with wide eyes.

I’ve no idea “where” all this immersion will take her. My only goal now is to share the joy of music with her. It’s pretty clear she is drawn to it from deep within herself.

Ah, Insomnia

Today was the first really warm day of the year: 95 degrees. And I, as usual, can’t sleep because it is still warm inside and out.

We went to see a house yesterday and today. The yesterday house we liked well enough, more for its location than perhaps the interior, but the price is higher than we feel comfortable going. The house we saw today was, well, just another frakking house. It was well-priced, but there were several problems with it, and it just didn’t stand out to us. Husband and I agreed that it is time to take a break — for me, not for him. We have spent every single Saturday and Sunday since the first weekend in January looking at houses. We have done nothing else, because after working around Bean’s nap and the open house schedules (1-4 p.m.), there is usually little time for any family trips elsewhere. We do get to a park after each foray, which we all enjoy.

But I’m weary. I’m rather depressed at the prices and the quality of the houses we see for those prices. I have not had any “me time” on the weekends for several months. The only weekend we took off from looking was the weekend immediately after my surgery. Husband used to take Bean on long walks in the neighborhood that afforded me time to clean, do laundry, etc. or just be home alone.

So I don’t know how long our break will be. The good thing all this research has done is that it has helped us clarify exactly what kind of house we would like to buy (e.g., square footage, small yard, recent build, etc.). It’s just that we haven’t found it yet. Next weekend, however, we will go on an outing to a zoo or museum — something fun.

And I’m working on cleaning out my closets of old clothes and stuff that feels extraneous. I’m not touching art supplies or yarn. I just need to streamline a little or I’ll go mad.

Here’s hoping sleep comes soon. I really need it.

The Latest

I haven’t made much effort to write here. Haven’t had much energy when I’ve been granted a little time. I have, however, lost 9 pounds since my surgery last month and am getting stronger every day. The past week Bean has battled a cold and a reaction to vaccinations, so we’ve been lying low. She had her 18-month doctor visit on the 10th (one month late) and weighed in at 21 pounds, 3 ounces and measured 31 inches tall. A friend calls her a Holly Hobbie child. She is petite, but oh so energetic and talkative!

I’m also thinking about the future of writing on this blog, particularly about Bean. There will come an age where details about her may be later perceived by her as an intrusion on her privacy. So I am considering other ways to keep people apprised, such as an email newsletter to people I really consider friends and family (certain readers here among them). However, since I’m still in the pondering stage, let me share more about Bean:

  • She has lately become obsessed about smelling flowers. She wants to sniff them wherever we go — real and fake ones, in the grocery store, in parks, on walks, in the yards of houses we visit with the realtor. The other day she sniffed a daffodil that apparently had no scent and said, “Nothing happened!” after. I’m not sure if she understands that not all flowers smell, because she always says “Ahhh!” after sniffing.
  • Bean is likewise obsessed with belly buttons. She commands me to “draw a belly button” on anything I draw in her sketch book: flowers, people, butterflies, you name it and she wants a belly button on it.
  • She likes to point to butterflies and say, “Butterflies flutter by!”
  • Lately Bean has demonstrated consoling behavior to her stuffed animals. Her current favorite lovey, Brown Doggie, goes many places with her. Sometimes she hugs him and says, “It’s okay.” She also asks if someone coughs “You okay?” This is because sometimes if she swallows wrong and gags and coughs a bit, I am alert (watching out for choking) and ask her if she’s okay.
  • The other day as she was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, she announced, “I’m busy!” with a big smile.
  • As I wrote a check to the babysitter, she wanted to grab the pen. I said no, that I was writing a check with it. A little later as I cooked, she sat on the kitchen floor with crayons and a blank book, scribbling. Then she said to no one in particular, “I’m writing a check.”
  • Yesterday for lunch she asked for cute cumbers.

Lastly, I have two tattoos, one of which is a highly stylized “Om” symbol (pictured below). Bean loves to look at them both (the other is a Celtic knot). Last week as she pondered the Om, she said that it was a man riding a bicycle. What an imagination this child has!

om tattoo