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the cute things she does
I’ve been trying to figure out how I’m going to tell this story for days now. It involves sound effects and no matter what kind of wordsmith I think I am, I can’t figure out how to properly describe the punch line to this story. Not that it’s a funny joke or anything. I don’t want to lead you on that much. It’s just about this funny thing I caught Baby Bug doing the other day.
First of all some background: Baby Bug and I play this game where we bump foreheads and cuddle. I make this sound that I can’t describe with words but it’s kind of an “aaaaaaahhhhh” sound up and down the scale in soft notes. I do it to her and then she does it back to me and then I say something like “Love the baby” over and over. She’s so darling when she does this to me. I just love her to pieces.
Well. The other day we were doing our other ritual called “put the baby down for a nap”. This ritual is not so fun and loving. It usually involves lots of crying and fussing and throwing the pacifier on the floor that has to be retrieved and so on and so on. We are not yet to the point where I can just put her in her crib at the scheduled time and she will fall asleep all by herself. No. It’s a battle. And according to my Mom, not a battle I’m going to win. Apparently, I was just like Baby Bug and I NEVER ever wanted to take a nap. I officially gave them up at the young age of two. TWO! So yeah, I’ve got my work cut out for me.
Sometimes, when soft stroking of her forehead and singing and rocking and low light and her soft fuzzy bunny in her bed with her don’t work, I try the other route. I close the door and ignore the sad pitiful cries of desperation. And boy are they desperate. She will try every trick in the book to get me to come back in the room and console her. From blowing raspberries to singing to crying until her voice is gone, she will try her whole repertoire of sounds mixed in with sad pathetic whimpers of pain. I hate it. It’s like slowly tearing my fingernails backwards as I sit in the other room watching the minute hand on our kitchen clock slowly tick by the allotted amount of time before I give in and go back in to comfort her.
After going through this routine for about twenty minutes the other day, she became suddenly quiet. Eerily so. I tiptoed to her room and peeked around the nearly shut door. Could she be asleep already? Did she give in at last? Nope. There she was sitting up and holding her pink fuzzy bunny to her forehead and softly saying “aaaaaaaah” as she nuzzled it with her head. Just like she does with me. It melted my heart. My little baby girl, she’s loving her bunny. How cute is that?!!!
I don’t remember how the rest of the nap went. Whether I gave in and let her get up and play or if she finally did exhaust herself to sleep. These nap battles kind of blur into each other. I’m trying like mad to be consistent and teach her to take a nap but I’m a wet noodle when it comes to routine and schedules and sticking to my guns. I think she’s learning. Learning what I’m not sure. Sometimes she goes right down but other days, like today, she totally skipped her morning nap altogether. She took a noon nap (which is not regular at all) and then completely crashed at five-thirty p.m. It’s now seven-thirty p.m. and I have no idea if she’s down for the night or if she’ll wake up wanting dinner at nine. She has been getting in the habit of going to bed at seven (and with the time change that turned into six) so maybe she’s down for the night. And maybe that means I’ll be getting up with her at 3:30 in the morning and having breakfast at four. Joy.
Sarcasm aside, isn’t joy what being a parent is all about? Toby and I were talking about how much more joyful we are on a daily basis because of this darling little munchkin that we have tottering about us all day. She really does bring us more happiness than I ever imagined.
Now if only I could figure out how to make a wave file so I could post the “aaaaaah” sound. Maybe I’ll catch her doing it again for her 10 month movie.
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beaches and babysitters
Aunt Waffy called it. It was less than a week after my surgery and Baby Bug and I were already back taking walks down to the beach. I’m so happy about that. I missed the beach. I take it personally when I can’t go look at it. I know someday we’ll have to move away (because we do want to buy a house some year, what a concept, and we’ll never be able to afford anything here) and I want to make sure I get every bit of beach out of it while I can.
My stitches don’t hurt a bit. I’m pretty sure they’re all healed and all I have left to do is peel the icky steri-tape off and take some degreaser to my stomach to get all the iodine and sticky tape residue off me. That stuff sticks! I’m washing my tan right off, just trying to get it to come off. Right now my stomach looks like I have leprosy. Yuck.
Finally, things are back to normal around here. So normal, in fact, that I’m back to my old muttering about wishing I could hire a babysitter because I just miss working on my computer so much. I’m so embarrassed to admit that.
Back in the day, when I was a kidless married person, I used to make fun of those mothers who couldn’t handle being around their kids all day. I was the baby sitting maven back then. I loved kids and wanted a baby so bad that I figured I’d NEVER need a break from MY kids. It was kinda like how I got Toby to let me have a cat. I promised that I would change the litter box every day and that I’d never ever complain about how messy cats were. Oh have I eaten every last word on that one. My cats drive me nuts.
And just like the cats, I’m eating my words about having children. I always want a break from Baby Bug. Don’t get me wrong. I love love love hanging out with her all day. I go insane when I’m without her. She’s my pal. We go everywhere and do everything together. She has a great sense of humor and keeps me laughing all day long. But sometimes… Sometimes… I just need a teeny tiny little break from her. Sometimes when she pulls on my pajama pants and they fall off down to my ankles, I get annoyed. Sometimes I just want to type something without her little hands grabbing at my knees begging to be pulled up into my lap where she will bang at my keyboard and try to eat my mouse. Sometimes I just want to be my old self who didn’t have a kid and did whatever she wanted to all day long.
I’m so ashamed that I have these feelings. What kind of spoiled brat am I that I am never happy no matter what side of the fence I’m on? I wanted kids sooooooo bad. It was a major source of contention between Toby and I and put a serious strain on our marriage that we couldn’t have kids for so long. So now that I have one, I don’t even want to complain.
That’s the rub right there. Everybody has been telling me to hire somebody to come in for a few hours a week so I can take a break and get some of my freelance work done. But I was too shy and embarrassed to ask Toby if we could afford to do this. I’ve been ignoring all your comments because in our one income family, hiring a babysitter is a luxury we just cannot afford. I should be thankful that I get to stay home all day and be a mom. Money is tight and I am so lucky that I don’t HAVE to do freelance work to pay the bills.
My problem is that I WANT to do freelance work because I love being a designer and I miss it. There, I admit it. I miss working.
So finally I just sat down and told Toby that I really miss designing. I spend every minute of Baby Bug’s naps doing chores and writing blog posts (my one and only outlet) and there just isn’t enough time left in the day…especially when her naps are only 30 minutes long and she only takes two of them a day. I learned the hard way that I can’t wake up at 5:30 every morning and then drink coffee to stay awake all night long too. I need a lot of sleep to keep up with my crazy daughter. I think not drinking water and not sleeping is what got me sick and started the whole gallbladder illness. Or at least that’s the first thing that went wrong.
You know what? Toby was cool with it. He didn’t think I was being a spoiled brat at all. We talked about our finances and he totally approved my need to have some time to myself!!!! I think the reason he had discouraged it before is because he wanted to be the one babysitting… but that just isn’t realistic. Every time we scheduled time for him to babysit, something would go crazy with his work and I’d end up resenting him because he couldn’t keep his end of the bargain. We finally agreed that we need somebody else to help. I’m so relieved that he sees my side in this. This is HUGE!! Like a ticket to sanity!
I’m so excited. I don’t even know where to start. Finding a babysitter I trust—that’s going to be the challenge. It’s going to be tricky too because I want somebody to come to our house while I’m here. I’ll probably just be in the next room over. I remember when I was baby sitting all the time, I HATED watching kids when their parents were there watching me. The kids would act up terribly and pit me against their parents. I never knew how to handle them when they disobeyed. I never have ever spanked a kid, of course, but it just feels weird and wrong using a stern voice to tell a child to stop getting up out of their chair during dinner when their father is just across the room reading the newspaper. But I guess that’s not my problem anymore. I guess that’s why the babysitter gets paid. It’s not an easy job and boy do I know it.
Anybody have any hints on hiring a babysitter? I only need two hours, two days a week.
