Thriller

In memory of Michael Jackson, Ken downloaded the Thriller music video. “Why wouldn’t you download Thriller?” he said, when I asked him what had prompted him to want to replay that 13-minute zombie video over and over again when you could just listen to the song.

I think he also thought that seeing this video is part of Nora’s cultural edification. And he also thought that showing it to her now – at 18 months – was a good idea.

I wasn’t so sure.

I mean, it’s scary. Sure there’s good dancing and the song is great to dance to. Nora had already started bopping to it when clips played repeatedly on the news. But watching zombies when you are so little?

So we watched. And like with all things television, Nora sat there mesmerized. And bopping up and down. Until the zombies started to come out and the music paused for the scary voiceover. “Uh-oh” she said – right on cue. Ken and I looked at each other. I with the I-told-you-this-would-scare-her look and he with the I-told-you-she-would-love-this look. And Nora sat there, with her thumb in her mouth, watching the zombies, sometimes bopping to the music and continually saying, “uh-oh.”

The next day, while I was cooking dinner, Ken decided to have her watch Thriller again. She again said “uh-oh” right at the appropriate time. She sucked her thumb to soothe away her fears. Or so I thought.

I popped my head over the counter in the kitchen, glaring at Ken. “I question your parenting skills,” I said, half jokingly, as the video was ending. Ken stared back, unrelenting. And again, right on cue, the music ended and Nora said, “more?”

I guess Ken wins.

THE Nap

The Nap

For the first two weeks of Nora’s life – when she was underweight from being early - I had to wake her up every 3 hours to eat. She never stayed awake much longer than it took her to eat. We don’t have any pictures with her eyes open until she is a month old. Even after that she pretty much slept all the time – or so it seemed. I remember going to my 6 week doctor’s appointment and reporting to the doctor that she had slept for six hours straight the night before.

And then something happened. I probably should never have reported to anyone that she was sleeping well. Night waking – night eating – night misery. But it ended and by 9 months I had her sleeping through the night (or at least until 5:30, when she’d join us in bed) and napping in her crib. And then something happened again – I honestly don’t even remember what it was exactly that started it. I think it might have been the three week killer ear infection at Christmas – but it could have even been before that. She would not nap in her crib. She would only nap on me.

And I thought a few times about “fixing” her – but it seemed pointless when I only had her napping here on the weekend anyway.

I resolved to begin Operation Nap in Crib in the summer – when I had time and patience to really “train” her to nap in her crib.

So I did. We started the first day I was out of school. The first day she cried for 20 minutes and then slept. Second day, 10 minutes of crying and then sleep. Third day, no crying. She was a professional crib napper – sometimes even napping close to three hours. All. By. Herself.

And I had a break.

But now, she is no longer a professional crib napper. She is a professional mommy manipulator. Or she is teething (which is what I prefer to believe. I mean, I can see the white bulges of all four cuspids and she has teething poop that even got all over the living room chair and her shoes tonight. So yes, no manipulation, just teething pain. That makes me feel better…) Yesterday no nap in crib, just nap on mom. And I felt trapped. Trapped in the chair, the bed, wherever it was we were napping at the time. I wanted to be reading – or napping by myself. Or talking to Ken. Or something. By. Myself. But she won.

Ferber says in his book that some kids are not good nappers – they are too curious or too “something” to be good nappers in their cribs. Reading that makes me feel better, but it doesn’t mean I don’t still feel trapped when I am stuck napping with her. And then The Nap takes on a life of its own and I ponder it all morning and think about what my plan of attack should be. Instead of just enjoying lunch and running around, I think of what will happen when I place her pretty little head on that pillow. The Nap.

Today she napped for 35 minutes by herself in her crib. And I was thankful for every minute of it.

Asserting her Independence

Nora is definitely a toddler. Everything I read (remember – I read a lot about babies…) warned me that 18 months would be the beginning of the real toddler stage. And though she isn’t quite 18 months yet, I think she’s definitely there. Some of the same old rituals that were always easy and never a fight have become either much more long and drawn out or sometimes a fight.

We used to say, “Nora, do you want to go bye bye in the car?” and she would run to the door and wait to be picked up and carried and nicely placed into her carseat. Now she does the same running to the door, but insists on walking herself out to the car. Which is all well and good, except that she always gets some sand in her shoe once we get down the steps and she just freezes or tries to place her little butt on one of the stepping stones so I can take the sand out. Sometimes this is no big deal. Other times – like when we are going to the pool and I am carrying a lot of gear – it is really hard to stop and fix her shoe. Once we get into the carseat she is still pretty good; now she likes to help with the buckle and eat some of the stale cheerios she left there on a previous trip.

Nora’s word of the week is cracker – or “caca.” She knows just where we keep the crackers and, fortunately for her, she can open that cabinet and reach in to grab some. The thing is, however, that the enticement of getting her own cracker out of the cabinet that she opens herself is much greater than actually eating the cracker. Thus, we end up with piles of half eaten crackers all around the house. I told Ken we need a cabinet lock – he says I should just “set the limits” myself. We’ll see.

And bedtime, though still (dare I say it) relatively smooth, is also becoming a place for Nora to assert her independence. We used to just always read Good Night Moon, sing Tender Shepherd two or three times and go in the crib. Well, Good Night Moon is apparently yesterday’s news and now we read Olivia and a birthday book that Nora refers to as “bunnies” because it is the bunny’s birthday. She would like to read them both two or three times – but I draw the line and just start singing and she usually is so tired she gives in. One day soon I know she’ll beg me to stop singing – once she realizes that I can’t sing…

And the biggest one is probably eating. Sometimes she REFUSES to go in her high chair. Ken says it’s like trying to put a cat in a bathtub. Three days ago all she wanted was pasta or strawberries. Today she cried (really cried) when I tried to serve her pasta for lunch. Today she likes cheese and asparagus (she ate six stalks for dinner). The food thing is so hard because I want her to eat for her health and well-being. I love her baby chub and don’t want her to lose her leg rolls any time soon. When she shows me her “gelly” I want it to be full and round. So, like I usually do, I read up tonight on the picky eating phase and realized (again) that this is what she is supposed to be doing. Reading that made me feel better and made dinner tonight less of a fight.

As annoying as some of this asserting her independence can be, it is really sort of gratifying to see her truly becoming a little person. She’s learning how everything in the world works – which must be so overwhelming at times. She constantly explores and experiments with what her limits are. And even though she is Miss Independent these days, she is still really little and cuddly and sweet.

When to Worry

I’ve never really been a worrier – at least not like many others I know. I didn’t feel the need to stockpile canned goods for Y2K, I never thought about bird flu, I never stocked up on duct tape to seal the windows and keep anthrax out. But being a parent has changed my worrying habits some.

First there are the worries I tell myself are ridiculous – but I still worry briefly about them anyway. This week I worried a few times that Nora has some form of OCD. When she goes over the parts of the face, ears, eyes, nose, etc, she has to point to hers, mine and her dad’s. Sometimes she even runs into the other room to touch Ken’s hair or nose. In the car she points to he own nose or eyes and squeals until we touch ours too since she can’t reach. And at swimming lessons she even touched the instructor’s nose. That’s when I worried. I tell myself that this is a stupid thing to worry about – but I have to entertain the worry anyway.

When swine flu hysteria landed I couldn’t avoid it. I searched the stores for hand sanitizer since it was TAKS week and I knew I’d have to touch at least 20 students’ tests. Sanitizer was sold out at three stores! More worriers like me. Nora had been so sick just before swine flu that I worried she would get it. And while I like to believe swine flu worry is somewhat more rational than worrying about OCD, I’m not so sure. I don't think I’d have given swine flu two thoughts before Nora.

And then there’s the ongoing worries. Is she eating enough? Is she developing normally? Am I providing her with enough stimulation? Too much stimulation? Is her daycare good? Why doesn’t she sleep well? These are the things that drive me crazy – that I try to reason out but can’t. I suspect many of these ongoing worries won’t ever go away (though I hope and pray and will bribe anyone possible to have the sleep one disappear ASAP). And sometimes I know these worries are irrational too – that I am doing the best job I know how as a mom so I should just trust my instincts and know everything will be ok. But I also think that worrying is just part of doing the best job I can.

Sweet Baby

As a teacher I can’t help but often wonder why kids act the way they do –where they learned their impeccable manners or their incredible rudeness. I’ve always assumed it was at home that they gained these traits – and having a baby has made me believe that even more in some ways, and less in others.

Nora is a sweet baby. I know probably all parents think that of their children (at least I hope they do). And perhaps I just think it because I love her and want her to be sweet, but watching her over these past two weeks has given me evidence.

Today at gymboree, after a long cranky afternoon (I said she was sweet, not perfectly happy all the time) we went to gymboree to enjoy some air-conditioned playground time. After a little while of watching everyone else and staying close by me, Nora took off like she normally does. She went and handed balls to an 8 month old baby and to another mom. She did “row row” in the boat with another boy, who quickly got out once Nora got in. And she enjoyed jumping on the fluffy mat with another boy who also ran to his mom’s side as soon as Nora (who was much smaller) came around. She likes people and probably misses the babies at daycare. As I was paying, the little boy who had been on the mat with her was playing with the puzzles and Nora decided to join him. He dropped two puzzle pieces under the table. Nora crawled under to get them and I thought she was surely just going to use them for her own amusement, but she didn’t. She handed them to the little boy. I teared up right there in gymboree. The boy’s mom said, “She’s a social sweetie.” And I said yes and tried to pull myself together.

The night before, as I was cleaning up from dinner, Nora found her doll laying on the window bench, still covered with her washcloth from when she had been put to bed there hours earlier. Nora grabbed her, said “hi bebee,” and toddled off to the living room. I kept loading the dishwasher and hoping Nora would remain occupied. She did. I peeked over since it was too quiet to be safe and saw Nora kissing and hugging her baby. How sweet that she was being sweet to her doll. I secretly – or maybe not so secretly – hope she likes dolls since I did. And watching her kiss that “bebee” made me tear up again.

Which brings me back to my first point about why kids act the way they do. I always assumed parents have molded their kids into the people they are, but Nora was born a people person, a smiler, a happy baby. The gymboree episode had to be just from her. I know I’ve never “taught” her to go and play with others or to hand back puzzle pieces. I am not the social butterfly she seems to be – and neither is Ken – so that sweet part of her personality had to just be there.

Which isn’t to say that I haven’t played some role in her sweetness. Loving her doll hopefully grows from the love she’s gotten since she was born. I can’t help but kiss her chubby cheeks all day as we play and read and laugh. Even when she wakes up way too early – I still kiss her. Part of what made me tear up when I saw her kissing her doll was that she clearly notices how we treat her – with love and kisses (though we don’t carry her around by the arm or cover her with a washcloth).

Things Heard While Changing an 18 month old’s diaper:

“Stop wiggling.”

“No! Don’t touch it. Oh, gross!”

“Stop wiggling.”

“Stay still.”

“The diaper’s going to go up your butt.”

“Stop wiggling.”

“Touch your head. Where’s your hair?”

“I could do this a lot faster if you’d stay still.”

“No, we’ll put your shoes on when we’re done.”

“Stop wiggling.”

“I used 82 wipes on that one.”

“Your mom lied, this isn’t clean and easy.”

“Let’s find your belly.”

“Gelly!”

“Stop wiggling.”

The Cute List

I’m keeping a list of all the signs, words and sentences Nora is saying. At this point I’m having to update it almost every day. I should keep a list of all the adorable baby things she does so I don't forget those either. Maybe that is what this blog is for?

Shoes. Nora LOVES shoes. When she realizes each morning that she doesn’t have any on, she runs to her room and screams “Shezz” until someone comes to put some on her feet. When she sees a pair of mine or Ken’s laying around she repeats “SheZZ,” points, and insists we put them on. And sometimes when she is already wearing shoes she decides she needs to switch. Today it was green crocs to converse. And she has this adorable indescribable way of just sitting down, no looking, no bracing, and sticking her feet up and out, ready for a shoe change.

Purses. Nora also LOVES purses. Ever since Christmas when she somehow found one of my small red purses, she has been toddling around with at least one purse on her arm. She recently started to put purses on, say “bye” and start running laps around the house.

Baby. Nora’s second sentence was “Bye baby,” which sounds more like bye beby. She now gets a washcloth, puts it over her doll’s back and pats it (really hard!) to put the baby to sleep. Then she gets a burp cloth and pushes me down to the floor and puts the cloth on me and pats me (really hard!). Then she climbs up on the ottoman and wants me to put the cloth on her and pat her back (really softly!).

Animals. Nora is an animal lover. She doesn’t get it from her mother. She can say all the animal sounds in her noisy farm book – duck, lamb, pig, goat, cow and rooster. She also has a mean roar when she sees a lion. I count the animal sounds as words. They show she is smart.

Fake coughing. This last one (for now) is a new development. At swimming lessons last week Nora swallowed a lot of water. When she was coughing it up she enjoyed (apparently) the attention of me and the two swim instructors. Yesterday at swim lessons she evidently remembered this and started fake coughing. And she looked at me like she knew it was funny. Then in the car today, I coughed and covered my mouth. Then, for the next two minutes, Nora fake coughed and covered her mouth. She had that same knowing look again too. It was hilarious, and I’m sure my amusement with her covering her mouth was why she continued so long at it. Maybe she’ll be in theater?

I know this list is cheesy, but if the blog is really for me only, who cares, right? And of course, as a stubborn toddler there are plently of not very cute at all moments too - but I won't put those down to remember...

AP Motherhood

I was always a good student – the kind my principal has currently labeled teacher-pleasers. I was curious too, however. I was just good at school (maybe that is why I am still there?) When Nora was first born, I read every book I could get my hands on. I wanted to know everything about babies, what I should be doing with her, what to expect, how to fix every little and big problem that could arise. My mom called it “AP Motherhood.”

I reviewed my Toddler 411 book on Sunday night just to be prepared for my first real day of summer at home with Nora.

And Monday was great! She napped well in her crib all by herself. Operation Nap in Crib, which had been postponed numerous times since the crib napping stopped in December, seemed to be a great success. She loved her swimming lessons, as usual. We had a great time at the park in the morning. She ate all her dinner without much fuss and gave me at least ten kisses before bed – on alternating cheeks,of course.

And then Tuesday happened. She woke up too early – 5:30 – for both of us. She was cranky and so was I. We went to walk at the lake to give her an opportunity to sleep more, which of course she didn’t. Then we had a good bit of playing, but by 11 she was zonked so she went down for her nap an hour early. She slept for only 45 minutes in her crib and then another 45 minutes on me. She ate some lunch and we had a good couple hours of adorable toddler playing with me seemingly saying “careful” a million times as she ran and climbed and reached both inside and out. And then I let her fall asleep in her stroller around 5. And I woke her up after 30 minutes because I was afraid she would just sleep all night. And she was MAD. So mad only Elmo videos on YouTube could cure it.

An AP mom wouldn’t let her child watch Elmo since the AAP says no media before 2 years old. An AP mom would have known to just weather the last tired hours and put her to bed a bit early instead of napping in the stroller. An AP mom would never have had to do Operation Nap In Crib in the first place. So then my mom guilt sinks in and I read my mom blogs and my mom books trying to figure out how to fix it all for tomorrow.

But then, before bed, she wiggles her fingers, claps her hands, says “mo” when I rub her legs. She kisses me on both cheeks and gives me a big hug when I ask and I realize that I don’t really need to fix anything for tomorrow. I just need to enjoy all of the moments, the good and the bad, that I am lucky to have time off to be a part of.

Summer begins

Today was Nora’s last day of daycare until August. When I packed up all of her things from the baby room and accepted all of the pictures and crafts the ladies wanted me to take, I couldn’t help but feel both a sense of relief and a sense of anxiety. I was relieved that I had survived the first year of being a working mom. It wasn’t easy – especially with Nora getting sick so often – but I did it and I think I did it pretty well at times. And though my anxiety was nowhere even close to what I felt that first week dropping her off at daycare, I did feel some anxiety as to what I will do now that Nora is a “homegirl,” as my mom said this afternoon. I don’t really know what to do with an 17 month old all day. But I guess that will be the fun part – figuring it out.