shouting hallelujah
I hate, hate, HATE when people ask if Pippin’s a good baby, and by that they mean a good sleeper.
He is the best baby, and we are working on helping him to be a good sleeper, and any shortcomings on that front are almost certainly ours.
It’s a little like owning a dog. If you have a bad dog, it’s almost certainly a failure on your part in how you treat and teach the dog.
My baby is becoming a good sleeper, just about as fast as I am becoming a competent parent.
Spring in Quincy, or, A Tale of Two Thomases, or, Mother’s Day Weekend 2013: Lots of Ice Cream, Plenty of Cider
PS — One of those Thomases is wearing a diaper, even though it doesn’t look like it.
- Barf in my hair. When? How??
- Kisses are your favorite, and mine.
- You look on purees as betrayal.
So this feed bag thing for fresh fruits is working better than the spoon-and-puree route, but there’s still some skepticism.
Also, it is very messy and kind of upsetting. But the bonus is I get 2/3 of a banana every time.
Bananas, 5/1/13
You can hardly see the adorable 6 onesie Pip’s Mumsey made for his six month birthday, but you can definitely see how curious and active he’s getting. Teething! Almost crawling! Attempting to eat leaf litter and camera straps! What a loon.
Pippin is getting his first tooth (front, bottom, for those who care) and its name is Elmer and we are giddy with parental excitement.
This week was a first: first time (deliberately) leaving Pip with a (non-family) babysitter.
Sure, we’d had a smattering of outings in which my parents or J’s brother and sister-in-law watched the little guy, and there was our dark St. Patrick’s Day, when various true friends took shifts watching Pip while we writhed and moaned from a stomach bug, but I’d never, you know, written out a list of emergency numbers and set out a bottle and kissed my baby and handed him over.
It took almost six months for me to do it! This is mostly because my net pay does not much exceed the cost of a babysitter and more importantly, but whatever.
At the beginning, I would have given anything to have someone watch him. Why isn’t day care socially acceptable in those bewildering first days? (Don’t answer that.) Back then, I had no belief that I, despite being his mother, had a better idea than anyone else how to care for him. Sometimes I even felt guilty that he got a beginner like me — though I’d remind myself that J and I were both first babies, too, and we managed to survive.
It used to scare me to think that I was the world’s authority on this little person, but I realized, leaving him with a friend on Monday afternoon, that it doesn’t scare me anymore. I may not know everything about the care of baby Pippin that I may someday know about his siblings when I’m a more seasoned parent, but I know a lot — maybe even more than a general baby expert — about this one little person.
So I left with a mix of pride and trepidation, glad to see how far I’d come, terribly nervous for Pippin and his babysitter both. And then, at work, just before dinner, I got this video in my email.
I am raising a functional, happy baby, with the help of loving family and friends. Sometimes I’m still scared, but it’s a lot better.
This week was Art Week at the library. I led my first program (actually, four) and while sparsely attended, the kids had fun, I think. But on the other hand, in my four extra little shifts at the library, I got a taste of the real life of a working mama, and the vending machine lunch in particular makes me think I wouldn’t much care for it.
This week we started to get Pippin on a nap schedule and put him down at 6:30 for bedtime, thanks to the good Dr. Karp and the advice of my baby-sleep-junkie cousin (holla!). And when we could keep that schedule, all was happiness and rest. One night we had two four-hour chunks and another pretty good long stretch and no tears. I came to rely on two-hour morning naps. The world became light and warm, and daffodils bloomed in the front yard. (This last might be unrelated.) But on the other hand, when we couldn’t keep that schedule perfectly — a class at night, those Art Week workshops in late afternoon — we also couldn’t count on those lovely long stretches of peace, either.
And then, oh, and then, I (wo)manned up and took Bonnie to the vet (finally) and they did not tell me I was an awful dog owner, despite her tough winter, but the visit did cost all the stipend I had just made doing Art Week. For good measure, on the way home, I came upon a cloud of dust on the highway, and, distractedly barreling ahead, rear-ended a street sweeper. A very expensive morning indeed.
But, it is a week to focus on the good, when there has been so much pain and uncertainty, and really not so very far off, either. From Boston came my brother-in-law and his wife, safe and sound and ready to snuggle our sometimes-fractious baby. We put the baby down (for an hour, at least) and retreated to the furthest reach of the baby monitor for hotdogs and chips and visiting with our landlord-friend, and the first bonfire of what I hope will be many this season.
And now Pippin is down for his first nap of the morning (after waking at 6) and it’s time to wake up the sweet husband who got up with him.
Good morning.
He turned five months on Easter, but I was so very tired and grumpity, so the post comes today (and truthfully, the photo shoot came just yesterday). Headlines, with added enthusiasm:
- Giant chunk baby fitting into some 12 month stuff!
- Laughs more for his papa than for anyone else!
- We may be on to some sleep success! (Too soon to say for sure, but I am almost an hour into a nap at the moment, so…)
- Tasting some solids, with fewer and fewer looks of betrayal!
- Big fan of stroller time!
- Rolling over! Starting to try to crawl and sit up! Maybe didn’t inherit my lack of coordination!
- Enjoyed visits last month from his Aunt Stinkbat (twice!), Aunt Layne and Uncle Blake, Grandalf, Grandpa Grimm and Mumsey!
Things are getting easier. I think I say this every month. It’s never as quickly as I want them to (or feel like they should), but life is slowly expanding again.
This is my solemn vow that this spring and summer, Pip and I will spend time in the wind and sunshine, soak up a little color, learn about growing things, lie around in the yard, do more than the bare minimum survival stuff of this winter. He will sit in his stroller while I hang his diapers on the line, and wiggle on a blanket while I weed, and behold the proceedings with skepticism.
