Growth Spurts

I cherish the sight of Vivi sleeping.  It's a precious sight.  A wonderful sight.  Especially at night.  However, during the last week or so it's become a very rare sight.  I attribute these sleepless stints to growth spurts. 
I love the image of my little one growing bigger and stronger, it's just that these same growth spurts seem to make me grow older and weaker.  I start to sound like Roger Murtaugh and find myself muttering " I'm too old for this shit" multiple times throughout the day.  I now have great respect for older parents.  I had gotten spoiled by Vivi's two weeks of sleeping up to 7 hours a night.  She now is back to eating close to every hour.  Luckily, I have a very self sufficient 4 month old.  While she isn't up fixing her own bottle, she is pretty good at scooting into position and latching on without either of us opening our eyes.  Here is how the night feedings usually go.
I hear her start to fuss.  I wait a few moments to see if she will be satisfied with her fingers or will blindly reach for her pacifier and hope to put it into the correct facial orifice ( I have opened my eyes to see why the pacifier isn't going in to find myself trying to maneuver it up her left nostril).  If that fails, then she will start scooting towards me and I will do the same.  I imagine that we both look seals scooting around on the rocks.  Somehow we manage to line up perfectly and she eats while I try to stay somewhat awake without ever opening my eyes.  I am guilty however of falling completely asleep and waking up again to find her still eating.  And there are times where I have no memory of every waking up with her fussing, yet she has managed to find her way to me and start eating on her own. 

Sometimes I will have one of those 30 second dreams that seem to last forever.  Those dreams that seem like real life.  In those dreams I have finished feeding her and put her back on her side of the bed, perhaps gone to the bathroom and then have gone back to sleep myself.  But then I will wake up and see her still eating and be extremely confused for a few moments until I realize that I had indeed dreamed it all.  Those dreams always remind me of the ones that I would have back in school after hitting the snooze button on the alarm clock.  I would dream that I got out of bed, showered, dressed, ate and sometimes would be halfway through the school day before I would wake up and find myself still in bed.  Though the worst just may be when you are asleep but have to pee.  And you dream that you wake up and go to the bathroom and get back in bed.  But for some reason in your dream you still feel like you have to pee.  It is then that you realize that you are dreaming and still have to drag your butt out of bed.

But I digress.  I feel as though Vivi is reaching the end of this current growth spurt for as I type this she has been sleeping for about 2 hours.  I know there will be many more growth spurts to come and I will find myself muttering about being too old for this shit, but like Murtaugh still returned for Lethal Weapon 2,3 and 4, I know that I will make it through.

Elevator Music

So while the fun posts about what happened while the grandparents were in town will have to wait until they leave and I have time to sort through pictures, I figured I would continue with some random posts...

Vivi has her own sound system in her stroller.  Now, before you start thinking speakers and a booming bass, let me clarify that her sound system consists of my ipod touch.  But it does the job.  The other day I was in the elevator and her lullabies were playing in the stroller.  It was an instrumental one that sounded somewhat like elevator music.  The door open and a few people walked in.  As the doors closed I saw them look at each other and then around the elevator. 

Me: " It's pretty nice that they put in elevator music isn't it?"
Them: " Yeah...it's really nice and calming.  I didn't realize that they were going to do that. "

I waited for them to get off before making my exit and taking the elevator music with me.

A day at the bank

Due to laziness I have not uploaded pictures that are needed for my posts about the adventures that Vivi and I have had this week now that Grandma, Aunt C and Grandpa are in town.  So I decided a random quick post would have to suffice.


A few weeks ago Rookie Dad, Vivi and I went to the bank on a warm Friday afternoon.  Rookie Dad and Vivi stayed in the car while I ran in.  After completing my transaction, the teller asked me if I had time to sit down with a banker to talk about the new changes coming to my credit card.  This was the following conversation:

Me: " I would love to, but I left the baby in the car"
Teller (looking a bit worried): " oh"
Me: " Oh don't worry,  I cracked the window"

I could see that the teller did not share my same sense of humor so I quickly assured her that the baby was not alone in the car, but I'm not sure if she believed me at that point and may have been tempted to call Child Services.  So I hurried back to the car and told Rookie Dad that we better book it out of there. 

 

Vivi and Harpo

There is a great episode of I Love Lucy that guest stars Harpo Marx.  At one point Lucy and Harpo reenact the classic mirror scene from the Marx brothers film.  There are moments during the scene where Lucy and Harpo are surprised that their "reflection" actually just did what they did.  It is that genuine look of surprise that is so comical and so very hard to achieve.  Having taken a clowning class in college-don't laugh, it was one of the hardest classes I have ever taken-  Shakespeare was a breeze compared to clowning-I have some experience in doing mirroring scenes.  But I got my best lesson yet last night.

Vivi was  having an interesting night that was spurred by a combination of being over tired and hungry.  Too tired to both sleep and eat.  She would go from being giggly and happy to being very very sad and upset. (side note: No matter how upset she is, if I stand her on my belly she will start laughing).  I could tell that she wanted to be happy but then would remember that she was supposed to be sad so back again came the tears.  At one point I held her up to the full length closet mirror to look at herself.

She has noticed herself in the bathroom mirror before, but this was the first time that she really took interest in her reflection.  She stopped crying and just stared at herself for a bit.  She then moved her hand and almost jumped out of my arms with shock when her reflection moved her hand too.  She then moved her head and watched the same happen in the mirror.  Again moved the hand.  And then the arm.  And then came the biggest smile I have ever seen on her face.  She was so happy and could not stop testing her reflection.  She was so intrigued and curious by the time that I pulled her away she had made a very close friend. 

From a student's perspective it made me wish I could go back to class and show off a new angle on the mirror exercise.  I had never seen such genuine shock and then pure happiness from seeing one's reflection before.  It was a very magical moment.

Baths, boys and blankets

As a much needed bath time rolled around last night (Rookie Mama had been lazy the last two nights) I decided to try something new.  I have been looking forward to taking a bath with Vivi since she was born and decided that she was old enough now to try it.  ( I wanted to wait until she could at least hold up her head on her own).  I had cleaned out the tub in the morning and had managed to keep Scout from doing her own cleaning of tub-she thinks that it's her chore to lick every inch of the tub twice a day and has been doing that since she was a puppy.  I'm thinking of tying little scrubbers to her paws and letting her really clean the tub and while she's at it she can do the floors too. 

So up filled the tub with lots of baby wash bubble and in went Vivi and I.  She was a bit perplexed by the situation at first and I was struggling a bit with the logistics of holding her in a way that I could see her face, keep her covered with enough water to stay warm and not let her wiggle out of my grasp.  I wish I had a bigger tub so that I could put her in a floaty.  She is used to being free in her tub to splash around and was bothered that she couldn't kick in the same way with me holding onto her so tightly.  I then decided to let her float on her back with my arms underneath her.  She floated really well and soon was doing the backstroke...almost.  She does have the breaststroke kick down better than I do after years of swimming lessons. Once on her back, Vivi did seem to have a lot more fun and beat the water to a pulp.  She gets very serious when kicking and hitting the water and is just so concentrated on what she is doing that one can't help but laugh.  I use a water pitcher that I fill up before the bath to rinse her off and Vivi is now able to help hold onto it as I pour the water.
A wonderful young mom gave me some very good advice about how to keep chubby babies clean, but despite my best efforts, I keep finding new rolls that Vivi hides milk in that then rubs her skin raw.  I have a very sensitive nose now and know when she needs to be cleaned because the smell is pretty nasty.  She had a yeast infection on her neck when she was a few weeks old and the powder they gave us to treat it rubbed her neck so raw that it hurt me to look at it.  So ever since then I have tried to stay on top of it so she doesn't have to suffer with raw skin.  But there is a fold at the top of her neck that is almost impossible to get to without her freaking out and another area that is always bright red.  She is such a tough little girl and does not complain at all about it even though it must be uncomfortable.  I have also learned that milk likes to collect behind her ears and if you aren't vigilant about cleaning them then you will have a stinky baby on your hands.

Will I take her in the bath with me again?  Yes.  But I will make sure to heat up the bathroom first-it got a bit chilly after a bit- and work on finding new ways to hold her so that she can play better and I can relax a bit.

Boys Boys Boys.  Rookie Dad's worst nightmare.  Vivi and I accompanied Aunt E and Uncle D to a 6 month old's birthday party today.  I was hoping that Vivi was going to be happy and smiling since she had napped and eaten right before hand, but she was pretty shy and quiet around everyone.  The little birthday boy was napping when we got there so by the time that he woke up, Vivi was ready for her nap.  He was being quite the flirt around her.  Smiling and laughing and trying just about everything to get her to go for him.  But little Vivi had listened very carefully to her dad's talk about boys and kept a very stern look on her face.  She was not going to give that little charmer a smile.  Nope.  She was cold and stone faced.  I decided I better take her in for a nap before things got ugly.  I proceeded to spend the next hour and a half in the parent's bedroom trying to get Vivi to go down for a nap.  She is like her Aunt E and thinks that time to sleep = talk time.  Every night it's the same thing.  She will almost be asleep and then will reach up with her pointer finger and pop out her pacifier so she can start chatting.  I don't want to discourage her talking but her timing is just killer.  Eventually she did fall asleep just in time for us to leave the party.  All in all it wasn't her most successful showing at a party, but at least she made her dad very happy when he learned that she didn't flirt at all.

It is so fun watching Vivi start to reach for things and gain more control of her hands.  There is a wonderful knit blanket that a friend made for Vivi that has become her sleep time blanket.

The other day it was pretty warm in the room so I didn't cover her in her blanket but left it above her head.  When I came in to check on her, she had pulled the blanket over herself and was snuggled up next to it.  It was so amazing to me that in just a few days she has figured out how to reach for it and move it to where she wanted it to be.  My little girl is no longer an infant but a baby now!

Mama Squishy

Rookie Dad lovingly gave me the nickname of Mama Squishy.  I surprisingly did not mind the name but I'm thinking it's time to do slowly say goodbye to it.  Though to be honest, I do think that Vivi enjoys being held by me more than her dad because I am more comfy to lay against than he is.  But it is time to get a new nickname like "Mama Rockin Body".  So I have enlisted two personal trainers to help me get back in shape, bought a cheap old fashion dial scale on Amazon and figured out how to double up my bras so I can actually workout. 

I have worked out a deal with my trainers where I provide them room and board in exchange for the training. 

My trainer for my upper body has a really unique outlook on strengthening the arms.  She has me doing multiple 15lbs lifts throughout the day but in no particular pattern.  She believes in always changing up the number of reps and the length of time that I hold the weight.  It's good because I rarely realize that I am working out and she also is so adorable and encouraging that I enjoy it.  She can be a bit bossy and will start screaming at me if I don't lift the weight quickly enough or if I quit and put it down before the time is up.  She has given me shit and once even puked on me, she was that disgusted by my technique.  She enjoys standing on my belly and laughing at how squishy it is.  She also sits on it while I do leg extensions and crunches, giving me smiles for encouragement.  She plans on increasing the weight every week. 

My other trainer is a bit harsher.  She pretty much barks her orders at me and I have even seen her growl at me.  She has me running about 2 miles a day with a stop at a park in the middle so that she can show me how a 'real' runner runs and to have me work on my throwing arm.  I have been a runner for many years, but never have I run like this before.  She believes that you should never really get into the zone while running and instead believes in lots and lots of distractions. I don't really understand her obsession with bushes, trash and fire hydrants but I have to just believe that there is a reason for us to be stopping at all of them.  She also adds in some plyometrics during the run, like vertical jumping to avoid tripping over her as she zig zags across the sidewalk.  She does work my arms too by testing their resistance and ability to hold onto a moving object while running. And she will start random tug-of-war games to see how well I can engage my core on the fly.   She is very polite and makes me stop and greet every runner or walker that we come across.  She thinks that she is above all laws and does not understand why we have to wait for lights to change but instead tries to dart into the road.  On the way home after the park she has me drag 55lbs of dead weight along the grass, up hill, to work my quads while she gazes longingly at the park. She wants to just increase the time at the park each week, but I am going to request that we increase our millage instead.

All in all, I am feel pretty confident about my workout plans and do believe that if I stick with it, Mama Squishy will be a think of the past.  I have 22lbs to lose and a new nickname to gain. 

Wrong side of the bed morning

Last night Vivi decided that she wanted to snack every hour.  This did not result in much sleep for me.  I got up as usual with Rookie Dad at 4:45am to take Scout out and help with anything he needs before work.  He used to have to get up before 3am for work last fall and I was able to get up and make breakfast for him.  I sometimes don't have any memory of taking Scout out these mornings, so I have awhile to go before I am back in breakfast making shape.  ( I did throw in some pop-tarts the other morning) Vivi and I don't get out of bed until 11ish every morning, she is an 11pm-11am sleeper; but this morning she got up around 9:30am.  This was a good thing because Scout had been going crazy in her crate since about 7am preventing me from going back to sleep at all.  I loaded Vivi up in the stroller and we took the beast out for her morning bathroom break.  Scout is usually pretty high strung in the morning, but today was worse than usual.  Before we had even gotten into the elevator Scout had managed to find a nasty moldy container to stick her face into and try to eat (thank you college students who can't figure out how to throw things in the trash).  Then as we waited for the slowest elevators in the world, Scout almost jumped through a window trying to see what was going on outside.  Now managing a stroller and a psychotic dog in an elevator is not easy when you are alone.  But add another person in the mix and it becomes a study in mental control (not to yell profanities at the dog) and physical strength ( keeping Scout from flipping out of her collar, which she has done.  She will stand up on her hind legs and then flip herself backwards to get out of it).  Once outside Scout decided to lunge at every car that passed by and if she saw another dog she would lay down and wait to say hi-even if the dog was walking in the opposite direction.  So here I was dragging the worlds worst behaved dog along on the sidewalk as she laid starring at the poodle that just walked by while pushing the worlds best behaved baby in the stroller. 

Vivi is an absolute gem on our morning outings.  She now actually plays with 'bugsy', one of her toys. She used to just stare at it, but now will pick it up and turn it around.  It is fascinating to me how quickly she is developing and growing.  Anywho, after much negotiating Scout finally agreed to do her business and we headed back home.  It was then that Scout started doing one of her most annoying habits which is to play tug-of-war with the leash.  When she was a puppy and wanted to walk holding the leash it was cute.  Now it is not so cute.  I accept full responsibility for her habit since I didn't stop it as a puppy.  Scout is a strong dog so when she plays tug-of-war with the leash I end up looking like an owner who has no control over her dog.  Then Scout will start growling at me making me look even more like a fool.  I have to try to keep my calm because Scout will only do this when there are lots of people around, so there are witnesses if I start to threaten to send Scout back to Mexico. Finally I grabbed her by the collar and walked pushing the stroller with one hand while leaning down holding onto Scout.  As we entered the underground parking to get to the elevator a pick up truck was doing all sorts of odd maneuvers trying to squeeze into a spot.  He was blocking my way to the elevator and every time that he could have stopped and let us go by, he would instead put his hand up to stop me and then would try and fail again to get into the spot.  Finally after a few minutes of fumes being blown into our faces, I held my hand up to him ( I wanted to hold up only one finger, but decided that I wouldn't  start a fight with a truck) and we made our move to the elevator.  Almost home.  Almost.  When the world's slowest elevator finally arrived out walk 4 students who want to pet Scout.  Which means that I now have to hold back Scout as she dances on her legs trying to jump on them.  That's the first and last time they'll want to pet her.  By the time the students leave the elevator as shut and gone back up to pick up a cleaning lady and maintenance man both with carts full of things.  Another few minutes later and  we go through the same song and dog dance as I try to get the stroller out of the way of their carts.  Finally we make back home and I think that things have to get better.  But instead I found myself getting annoyed at everything.  There is a beagle that howls from 5am to 5pm and I came very close to hunting that dog down and reporting it to the manager.  Then there are two dogs on the first floor that will bark nonstop at a blowing leaf.  Speaking of leaves and blowing, the maintenance man ran the damn leaf blower for what seemed like hours underneath our windows.  The neighbors kept smoking so I had to keep closing the windows.  Things were not going my way and it wasn't even noon yet.  I knew I had to get out of my funk so I went to the one person that I knew could cheer me up.

Vivi and I laid in bed together and cuddled and snuggled and chatted about how silly everything was that was making me mad.  She will turn over onto her side and put her hand on my cheek and then scoot in close so her nose is touching mine.  We will lay there and just look into each others eyes and I can't help but to get tears in mine.  She is so perfect.  She is an old soul.  There are times that I will look at her and she will look back at me with such wisdom. It's hard to explain and maybe I'm crazy but she is wonderful. Simply put. She likes to stroke my left arm while I change her diaper which I always take as a thank you from her for wiping her butt.  She can scoot from one end of the bed to the other or from my feet up to my head.  She still likes to sleep forehead to forehead and holding hands.  And nothing beats the morning or just woken up from a nap nuzzling that I get everyday.  When I think of all these things and then get to actually experience them, all negativity flees from my mind.  There is no such thing as waking up on the wrong side of the bed when all I have to do is turn around and see a smiling baby next to me.

Pick up Stix Wednesdays

It's starting to become a tradition that every Wednesday my sister (Aunt E) comes over to have lunch with Vivi and I.  It used to be that she would come over, we would workout and then have Pick up Stix for lunch. We got rid of the working out part in order to spend more time with Vivi.  Today was extra special because Uncle D came along too.  Vivi is starting to explore people's faces now and really got a kick out of Uncle D's face.  It makes me so happy that Vivi recognizes her Aunt and Uncle.  She starts grinning like crazy when she sees them but is much more cautious around strangers.  Aunt E was there

when Vivi was born and Uncle D hung out for most of the labor, so they have been involved in her life since the very beginning.  Actually, I was with them the day that I found out that i was pregnant, so for almost a year now they have loved and supported little Vivi.  Watching my sister and her fiance with Vivi makes me realize just how lucky I am to have them living so close to us.  Uncle D may not be officially part of the family yet, but you wouldn't know it watching him with Vivi.  I don't think that I ever doubted that he would love Vivi, but seeing it is a whole other thing and it truly makes my heart glad.  My sister
on the other hand is the picture of a dedicated and loving aunt.  She will and has dropped everything to be with Vivi and to help me out.  She drove me to many doctor appointments and was there for the entire labor and delivery.  They both helped clean our apartment as a surprise for when we got home from the hospital and also helped care for Scout during the labor I guess this post is a thank you to both of them for being so supportive and loving to my new little family.   ( Just as a side note, Vivi also has an amazing Aunt C who sadly lives far away but is coming to visit soon so more on her later).

The library is out of toilet paper

When I used to picture my future house, it always had a library in it.  A cozy room with full length bookshelves stocked with the classics.  It would be a place that my kids could go to study in quiet and I could escape to and settle in with a good book.  There would be rich colors and comfy arm chairs that dwarfed the average person.  Ah yes, my library.  I do have a library now, but if differs slightly from my imagined one.  The arm chair is porcelain and the classics range from Dave Barry to Baby 411.  The bathroom is my sanctuary.  As a child I used to use it as a place to avoid the dishes, now I use it to get my reading in.  Rookie Dad has started to catch on however.  He started by asking if I am "actually doing anything in there or are you just reading?".  Now after enough time goes by he will bring Vivi in and sit her on my lap and then walk out. 

I think it's time to bring back the squirt bottle that I was given at the hospital so that I can keep up the appearances of a legitimate bathroom visit. 

Vivi and Scout a friendship begins!

 Since I'm sure Scout will be making some appearances in this blog, I thought I would give some background on how she became part of the family.
A week and a year ago we met a woman in a parking lot who had a car full of puppies that she had rescued from Mexico. She was on her way to a rescue organization but was going to let us have first pick.  There were a few very cute 4 month old puppies that caught my eye, but then in the very back was a tiny 4-5 week old, 4 lbs puppy that I knew we just had to have.  On the way there Rookie Dad had warned me not to get caught up in the cuteness but to keep an open mind.  I was following his orders pretty well as I cuddled the puppy as he parked the car.  While that one was adorable, I knew that I wanted to look at the others as well.  Well, as soon as RD saw the little one there was was no looking back.  I tried to remind him about his rule but I could see that it was a lost cause.  We brought Scout home that day.  I named her Scout after the character in To Kill A Mockingbird. Just 5 days later Scout started to throw up a lot and not look to well.  We had taken her the day before to get checked out by a vet and she had gotten a clean bill of health.  But something told me that we had to take her back in.  We then got the news that Scout had Parvo, which is a deadly puppy disease.  We had a few options, 1. Admit her into the hospital and look at spending at lease a few thousand on her. 2. Taking her home and treating her the best we could there. 3. Put her down now.
We were devastated.  After just 5 days we had both already grown to love this little puppy, but RD was out of work at the time and spending so much of our savings on Scout was a bit daunting. We decided to do everything we could to save her life so she spent the next week in the hospital during the day and home with us at night.  It was a very rough next couple of weeks.  She was so sick and unable to drink or eat.  I barely slept keeping an eye on her.  She went down to just 2.5lbs and looked like those puppies you see on the ASPCA commercials. 

 RD mentioned a few times that watching me with Scout assured him that I would be a good mom.  And during those sleepless night I did feel like Scout's mommy.  Scout pulled through and a month later I found out that I was pregnant.  So Scout has been with us just as long as Vivi has been a part of our lives.  If you have seen the movie Marley & Me then you have an idea what type of dog Scout is.  More on that later.  Throughout the pregnancy Scout, Vivi and I went to the dog park everyday.  It's pretty fun now to walk to the park with Vivi now out of my belly. 

 We are now trying to balance letting Scout get to know Vivi with setting boundaries so that she doesn't accidentally hurt her.  Scout is still just a big puppy who has no idea how strong she is.  She spends almost everyday running in a woodchip dog park so the bottoms of her paws are extremely rough and her way of getting someone's attention is to paw their arms.  Nevertheless this hurts even when she doesn't get you with her nails.  I am afraid that she will paw Vivi in an attempt to get her to play and instead really scratch her up.  Right now Scout is into licking Vivi's feet/body whenever she gets close enough.

 I have even caught her standing up with her front paws on the bed licking Vivi while she naps.  She will also start to nibble on her toes.  I know that no one is reading this blog right now, but I would love suggestions as to how to set boundaries while also not making the dog resentful of the baby. I know that as Vivi and Scout both get older things will get easier but it's just tough right now.  Scout likes being in the room while Vivi naps which is nice but I can't trust her completely.  I have relaxed a bit though especially after what happened when Vivi was 5 weeks old.
  I was doing laundry while Vivi hung out on the floor in her vibrating chair. I realized that I hadn't seen Scout in awhile.  In a one bedroom apartment there aren't many places to hide and I quickly found her in the bathroom drinking out of the toilet.  She had never done this before most likely because I am normally very careful about closing the lid.  However, moments before as I used the toilet I thought I saw Scout go near Vivi so I jumped up without flushing or closing the lid.  I chased Scout out of the bathroom and proceeded to straighten up quickly.  I walked out of the bathroom only to find Scout licking Vivi all over her face.  I had spent the first 5 weeks of her life keeping Scout from getting near her and then the first time that I turn my back Scout drinks from the toilet and then washes Vivi's face with her tongue.  Go figure. After putting Scout in her crate I just had to laugh. It was one of those moments as a mom where I knew I could either freak out or laugh.  I'm glad I chose to laugh.

Where is all of this boring back story leading?  Well last night I got a pretty awesome confirmation that despite all of Scout's craziness and attempts to drown Vivi in kisses-Vivi loves her dog.  You see, in the last couple days we have started to hear one of the greatest sounds in the world-a baby's giggle.  So far she has only started to giggle for her dad (never for me).  But last night as she was helping me put away groceries I noticed that she was looking down at Scout the whole time smiling.  So we sat on the floor so she could get a better view.  And then it happened.  She started giggling like I have never heard her before.  She just thought that Scout was the funniest thing in the world.  It made me so happy to know that Vivi likes her puppy and now I can just look forward to those two growing closer together.

Pacifier Patrol

I already have quite the wish list of baby inventions, but the item that tops the list is a pacifier holder.  Yesterday Vivi had one of those sleepy days where all she wanted to do was nap.  This would have been the perfect day for me to actually tackle (or at least attempt to tackle) the massive 'to do' list that haunts my fridge.  There was just one thing standing in my way-the pacifier.

This used to not be the case.  Up to just a few weeks ago she would only suck on our fingers.  This trick was shown to her dad and I at her first orthopedic appointment when they were setting her arm in the splint and she wouldn't stop screaming.  This was a great trick and worked really well, however, she became used to just sucking on our fingers and refused to take a pacifier.  So that meant that whenever she started crying we would have to sprint to the sink to wash our hands and then would be stuck holding her 24/7. Don't get me wrong, I love holding my daughter, but during her nap times I wanted to be getting things done but as soon as I would pull my finger out she would wake up and start crying. The "okay we need to get her to take a pacifier" moment came after I woke up with her in the middle of the night and realized that for the past 5 hours my finger had been in her mouth.  I pulled it out and my poor little pinkie was shriveled and gasping for breath.  So we cut her off cold turkey from the finger. 

It was a rough hour.  She went through withdrawal and got pretty angry at us.  We kept reassuring her that it was for her own good and that we were helping her, not hurting her.  She said some pretty mean things, but we knew that it was the finger addiction talking, not her. Eventually she fell asleep and grudgingly took the pacifier.  And that was that.  She will at times grab onto your finger and try to pull it in, but we have always managed to overpower her and prevent a relapse.


Now that we are all caught up on Vivi's history with the pacifier, let me continue.  So yesterday would have been an ideal day to get things done but instead I spent it running back and forth to the room to pop back in the plug, I mean pacifier. I was on constant Pacifier Patrol.  Great for getting some exercise in, but I have never been a fan of sprinting.  She will sometimes find her thumb or suck on her fingers but never gets the full satisfaction that she is looking for and will wake up very frustrated. Or she will try to hold it in herself but that never works for long.  I have tried placing her winnie the pooh bear/blanket so that the nose of the bear holds the pacifier in but she usually flings it away within minutes.  So this is when I pull out my baby wish list and add "pacifier holder" right on top.  I know that it wouldn't work to have a string holding it in because that could become a hazard, but what about something that hooks around the ears?  Like a pair of glasses but going up from the mouth instead of the eyes...I'm not saying that I have the answer, but I do know that if I had money I would invest in some research and development of such a product.  Until that happens I will just continue to work on my sprinting.

Pandora's Box...aka the box of prepregnancy clothes

I did it.

I promised myself that I would wait until I was sure they would fit.  But I did it anyway.   I opened the box.  This box contains all of my prepregnancy clothes that around 5 months into my pregnancy got packed away into a box not to be opened again for many many months.  But it has been brutally hot this week and I was going wedding dress shopping with my sister and wanted to wear something besides my maternity jeans.  So I went fishing for a skirt.  One skirt.  That was all I was supposed to pull out, but before I knew it all of my clothes were on the ground and I was trying them on one by one.  About halfway through I started mentally slapping myself for ever thinking that I was overweight before.  Oh my god, what I would give to fit back into those size 4 jeans and wear a t-shirt that said 'small'.  I swear that as I was about to try on some shirts I heard them say " seriously?  You really think this is going to work?"  and I know that I heard some pants whimper as I attempted to pull them up.  I know that I am going to find some clothes under my bed that tried to escape as they saw their fellow shirts and pants get pulled and stretched.

Throughout my pregnancy as I grew larger and larger I always joked with people about how much I was going to have to workout after giving birth and how long it was going to take me to lose the weight.  But secretly I thought that it was just going to slide off me.  That magically I was going to be able to fit back into those jeans without a problem maybe 2 months max postpartum. I pictured myself back in top running shape running along the beach with my new Baywatch sized boobs bouncing in slow motion.  Now, 3 months postpartum, if I were to squeeze into a red swimsuit and try running along the beach my stomach would be the body part bouncing and my boobs would just flop along and twiddle their nipples until it was time to feed Vivi again.  I'm young.  This was supposed to be easy.  It's not.  And exercising isn't really an option yet seeing as I have the bladder control of a 90 year old.  (If I wasn't portraying myself as a sexy mama before, I know that last sentence sure sold the image)

When I look at all of my friends who have just had kids in the last few years they all look stunning.  And then there are the friends who just had a baby a month ago and are back in size 0 pants.  All of these friends I love to death but also wouldn't mind stealing their bodies for the day and shoving them full of brownies and cheese puffs.

Instead of that however, I am going to just continue to go at my pace and hopefully things will work out.  I gained 70lbs during the pregnancy and have about 30lbs to go.  The deadline is my sister's wedding on January 1st.  And a word to any new moms out there who haven't lost all of the weight yet-don't try on bridesmaid dresses.  Especially if the maid of honor is 5'8" and very skinny.  Your self esteem does not need a blow like that.

But as in Pandora's Box there always is hope at the bottom.  Which for me is a skirt that I can zip up.  It doesn't look very happy on me, but I zipped it up and that is all the hope I need.

The rule of three

I've always been a believer in the rule of three.  But then there is the belief that we are in control of our destiny so if something bad happens I expect 2 more things to happen, therefore 2 more things will happen just because I expect them to happen and there really is no rule of three.  Sigh... who knows. But what I do know is that last night I experienced the rule of three.

It started out innocently enough.  I was flying Vivi over my head and she decided that it would be fun to spit up all over my face (and mouth).  Gross, but I had it coming since she had just eaten.  Nevertheless I decided that it was now bath time.  Now, there is a moment before easing one's baby into the bath when you are left very vulnerable holding a diaperless pee and poop machine in your arms.  Normally I get through this moment without any accidents.  But, staying true to the rule of three, little Vivi decides to warm me up with some pee. Somehow she manage to soak my shirt, bra and pants.  All three items were moments before pulled out of the dryer by a very proud mom because she had finally attacked the laundry.  This warranted a pretty big sigh.  Not wanting to spend bath time in pee soaked clothes, I changed into another set of newly washed lounge attire and tried it all over again.  This time Vivi held her pee and started splashing around like usual in the tub.  About 5 minutes later I heard a rumble.  I feared the worse, but only saw little bubbles rise to the surface.  Phew! Another 5 minutes goes by and then an explosion occurred under the surface that I swear must have been heard by the neighbors.  I didn't know what to do when I saw the shrapnel start to float to the surface.  Vivi was happy as a clam (side note-why are clams supposedly so happy?...thank goodness for google) but I knew that I had to get her out of the poop infested tub. Pleasant image eh? I scooped her up and just stood there.  Another outfit now soaked, only this time with a combination of poop and soapy bath water.  And I stood there.  I did not know what to do.  I empty the tub with my foot but there was still poop in it.  I couldn't set her down anywhere in the bath room so I just held her.  Finally I stripped down and got in the shower with her and we finished out adventure in there.  She was a perfect angel throughout it all, never blinking an eye.

So in twenty minutes I got puked on, peed on, and had to deal with poop in the tub.  The rule of three was complete.