Just when I started to like my kid again, he commenced with The Screeching again. Folks, I’ve got my own personal Shrieking Shack going on here. We’re just missing The Dark Lord - but give Arun enough time, I am sure he'll be stepping up to the plate on that one soon enough. The part of me that is fascinated with language development thinks it really cool to hear him experimenting with the different volumes, pitches and octaves of The Screeching. To boot, he gets this incredibly adorable impish grin on his face while he’s doing it. However, the part of me that hates loud noises thinks it would be really cool to put him in the basement for awhile. Seriously - I HATE loud noises. The only loud noise I like is music blasting when I am ALONE in the car. If I am trying to hold any sort of conversation, forget it. I blame it on my dysfunctional eustachian tube - I’m like a little old lady now when there is background noise. Yes, yes - I have had many people warn me about the Noisy Toys coming my way now that I have a kid, but seriously, if the toy is annoying, it’s going to Goodwill. My family has been warned. There is a reason why we have maxed out the Fisher Price Ocean Wonders theme here in the Rancid le manse - the noise those toys make are not irritating. Actually, I am starting to dig the bubbly calypso music.
Anyway, my friend R and her daughter K are coming over for lunch today and I am MUY excited. I love cooking for people that appreciate something different. Frankly, X just doesn’t get excited over my curries anymore because we eat them all the time. I think normal families eat things like mac/cheese, steak, hamburgers, spaghetti, right? If I am wrong, correct me, but that is my stereotype of what American families eat. My own family? When my parents were married I remember a lot of Mexican food and pork chops (my dad would make the refried beans from scratch - YUM). After my parents divorced, I remember a lot of sandwiches scraped together with mostly bread and condiments. My mother hated cooking and when she left my dad, that was the end of her culinary pretenses. My dad and step-mom do cook, but it is usually some sort of roast (I don’t think my step-mom really enjoys cooking, either). Therefore, when I went to college, Asshole #1 taught me how to cook and this is why I don’t really know many American dishes. X and I eat a TON of fish curry and eggs. If we cook at home, these are our 2 dishes that often solve the Food Fight of “What’s for dinner?”. If we do takeout, it's usually Thai. If I do decide to put forth the effort into a meal, I’ll make a chicken curry, a keema (with ground turkey, though), a thoren of some sort, chickpeas or dhal. Also, don’t get me wrong, I love a good, juicy chicken n’ noodles or even a creamy tuna casserole. However, I would have a better chance of getting X to eat a live chicken. Once in a while, I can coax X to eat some Mexican and Pizza (two of my VERY favorite food groups), but it is few and far between. So, curries and Thai takeout it is.
In other news, I feel the Funk waning a bit so hopefully I will be in the mood to write more next week.
March 31, 2006
March 29, 2006
Could this be a new trend?
Last night, I am sitting there, working on my Fair Isle hat and the damned thing is going from bad to REALLY BAD. And I hadn’t even hit the “Fair Isle” part. In fact, I was still on the complicated braided TRIM. So I stopped. And thought about it. And decided that FOR ONCE, I was going to do something RIGHT. So, this afternoon, I frogged it (rip it, rip it, rip it) so that tonight I can walk into class proudly and START OVER. It’s convenient that the gal who hosts the Wednesday night knitting group I belong to is also the teacher of the Fair Isle hat class. I can easily work on this project for quite awhile but still, I am proud of myself. Too often, I half-ass things and just carry on - not only in knitting, either. So, it’s refreshing to do something correctly for once.
There has been so much going on lately. Believe it or not, I actually do things that don’t involve my kid. Sometimes........ I have been blogging about him so much lately for a few reasons. 1) It’s fun. 2) It’s easy material. 3) It’s nice to have the “documentation” for later since I suck ass at updating his baby book. Hey, I didn’t promise you a rose garden. Or a particularly clever blog, for that matter.
Last weekend was pretty nice, Friday night X and I went out for dinner at Lillie’s - I have posted about it over at Kansas City Kitty . Oddly enough, X and I don't sit at home that much since we had a baby. Normally, X and I are huge homebodies. We love snuggling up after a good meal and just hanging out - either reading, watching TV, me knitting, X tapping away at his laptop. However, Arun would find this pretty boring, so these days, we venture out a lot looking for local coffee houses or just picking up a meal somewhere. While I love being in Olathe, living in the suburbs is not “all that” when it comes to LOCAL restaurants and coffeehouses. Fortunately, X and I are very familiar with Kansas City, so we drive there quite often - even if we don’t eat out, we like to pick up some coffee, then meander through the city starting with downtown, heading south through Crown Center, then Midtown, the Westport, then the Plaza.
On Saturday, I took a temari ball class at Urban Arts and Crafts . I wanted to take the class because I know the teacher so well, but hadn't taken a class from her before. The process of doing a temari ball is actually pretty interesting - you take a styrofoam ball, wrap it completely in yarn, then in thread, then you carefully measure out your “points” to create the guides for the decorations - which are sewn on using embroidery thread. I am not done with my ball yet, so I can’t report whether this will officially become a new hobby or not. However, it definitely gets high marks for being something that is easy to start and put down. For sure, I bet I can get several months of Procrastination outta this thing. Oh, and yes, we sniggered in class every time the teacher said “balls”.
Yesterday, I started stocking up on scrapbooking supplies. I have over 180 pics of the kid coming in from PhotoWorks (and I paid less than $30! That site ROCKS.) No, no, NO, I don’t do REAL scrapbooking. I do the “slap a snap on a page, then write the date below it” sort of scrapbooking. I just don’t subscribe to the theory that my kid will appreciate my slaving for hours slicing and dicing cardboard cut-outs. It’s fine that other folks do scrapbooking, but me? Not so much - it would drive me crazy to have such a hobby - I would end up trying to papercut my wrists. For me, a hobby must be relaxing, conveniently transportable, and most importantly -- easily stopped whenever my kid wakes up from a nap. Scrapbooking fulfills none of those qualifications for me. I was debating whether to just create a slideshow of all the Simian Snaps (over 600 now and counting), but admittedly, it is still easier in this day and age to just drag out a hardcopy book to show folks.
In other Rancid news, I completed our sign-up for the Fair Share Farm . It’s a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) and we tried to join last year, but were too late. I am SO excited about this. In short, you pay a set amount up front and then starting about May 15th, you get fresh veggies and fruits throughout the summer. Our weekly pickup will be Wednesdays in the Rivermarket, so I am looking forward to this being a part of our routine. Besides, I need to create precious, precious memories in pursuit of that Perfect Childhood so my kid doesn’t become a juvenile delinquent.
I have had a hard time writing this week - I just couldn't really pull anything meaningful together. In fact, this week has been pretty hard, period. I have been in a weird place lately and I can't pinpoint why. It pisses me off when I feel like this because the logical part in me is furious that I am taking life for granted and letting it pass me by. I have it pretty damned good and I HATE that feeling of inappreciation. I am hoping with the weather starting to get better that it will help pull me outta The Funk. I am so tired of brown grass and brown trees. I am so tired of the freakin' mall. It's a great place to walk and is convenient, but I am so over it now. I want leafy trees and flowers. I want to have my morning coffee on my deck, with the birds chattering and cats circling my ankles. Hey..... and THIS YEAR, my kid sitting on his blanket playing with his toys.
Hmmm, I feel a little better already.
There has been so much going on lately. Believe it or not, I actually do things that don’t involve my kid. Sometimes........ I have been blogging about him so much lately for a few reasons. 1) It’s fun. 2) It’s easy material. 3) It’s nice to have the “documentation” for later since I suck ass at updating his baby book. Hey, I didn’t promise you a rose garden. Or a particularly clever blog, for that matter.
Last weekend was pretty nice, Friday night X and I went out for dinner at Lillie’s - I have posted about it over at Kansas City Kitty . Oddly enough, X and I don't sit at home that much since we had a baby. Normally, X and I are huge homebodies. We love snuggling up after a good meal and just hanging out - either reading, watching TV, me knitting, X tapping away at his laptop. However, Arun would find this pretty boring, so these days, we venture out a lot looking for local coffee houses or just picking up a meal somewhere. While I love being in Olathe, living in the suburbs is not “all that” when it comes to LOCAL restaurants and coffeehouses. Fortunately, X and I are very familiar with Kansas City, so we drive there quite often - even if we don’t eat out, we like to pick up some coffee, then meander through the city starting with downtown, heading south through Crown Center, then Midtown, the Westport, then the Plaza.
On Saturday, I took a temari ball class at Urban Arts and Crafts . I wanted to take the class because I know the teacher so well, but hadn't taken a class from her before. The process of doing a temari ball is actually pretty interesting - you take a styrofoam ball, wrap it completely in yarn, then in thread, then you carefully measure out your “points” to create the guides for the decorations - which are sewn on using embroidery thread. I am not done with my ball yet, so I can’t report whether this will officially become a new hobby or not. However, it definitely gets high marks for being something that is easy to start and put down. For sure, I bet I can get several months of Procrastination outta this thing. Oh, and yes, we sniggered in class every time the teacher said “balls”.
Yesterday, I started stocking up on scrapbooking supplies. I have over 180 pics of the kid coming in from PhotoWorks (and I paid less than $30! That site ROCKS.) No, no, NO, I don’t do REAL scrapbooking. I do the “slap a snap on a page, then write the date below it” sort of scrapbooking. I just don’t subscribe to the theory that my kid will appreciate my slaving for hours slicing and dicing cardboard cut-outs. It’s fine that other folks do scrapbooking, but me? Not so much - it would drive me crazy to have such a hobby - I would end up trying to papercut my wrists. For me, a hobby must be relaxing, conveniently transportable, and most importantly -- easily stopped whenever my kid wakes up from a nap. Scrapbooking fulfills none of those qualifications for me. I was debating whether to just create a slideshow of all the Simian Snaps (over 600 now and counting), but admittedly, it is still easier in this day and age to just drag out a hardcopy book to show folks.
In other Rancid news, I completed our sign-up for the Fair Share Farm . It’s a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) and we tried to join last year, but were too late. I am SO excited about this. In short, you pay a set amount up front and then starting about May 15th, you get fresh veggies and fruits throughout the summer. Our weekly pickup will be Wednesdays in the Rivermarket, so I am looking forward to this being a part of our routine. Besides, I need to create precious, precious memories in pursuit of that Perfect Childhood so my kid doesn’t become a juvenile delinquent.
I have had a hard time writing this week - I just couldn't really pull anything meaningful together. In fact, this week has been pretty hard, period. I have been in a weird place lately and I can't pinpoint why. It pisses me off when I feel like this because the logical part in me is furious that I am taking life for granted and letting it pass me by. I have it pretty damned good and I HATE that feeling of inappreciation. I am hoping with the weather starting to get better that it will help pull me outta The Funk. I am so tired of brown grass and brown trees. I am so tired of the freakin' mall. It's a great place to walk and is convenient, but I am so over it now. I want leafy trees and flowers. I want to have my morning coffee on my deck, with the birds chattering and cats circling my ankles. Hey..... and THIS YEAR, my kid sitting on his blanket playing with his toys.
Hmmm, I feel a little better already.
March 28, 2006
Can I report how much more I love my kid now that he can sit upright in a shopping cart?
Seriously. Life is so much easier now.
Anyway, I need to take a quick break from Taxation Vexation to also report that I used the words “tummy” and “wummy” in a sentence. Together. Like, DUDE, at the SAME TIME. Wash my mouth out with soap already. The minute those words left my mouth, I stood there for a minute wishing fervently I could TAKE THEM BACK. Even Arun went quiet for a millisecond. Maybe I should reconsider this whole “stay at home” thing if this is how quickly my language skills are going to regress.
Anyway, back to Uncle Sam. I will probably have something posted tomorrow, but in the meantime, April 15th looms large on my horizon. Actually, I already did our taxes over a month ago, but now must pay TurboTax for the privilige of having done so, print the forms out, review them, THEN e-file them. When I worked for Block’s Online Tax Program, it killed me how many people would e-file without checking their forms first. Unless you really want details as to how mind boggling our tax situation is, you should be grateful I am throwing out crap about my kid instead.
As a peace offering, I present for you pics from the Great Cereal Event. I have claimed that I took my time coming to this particular milestone because the doctor said there was no hurry. However, honestly? I am just a lazy ass. The kid is enough work as it is and now I HAVE TO PREPARE FOOD FOR HIM? Anyway, except for the fact that X wouldn’t let me get out the digital camcorder for the event, everything went fine ( Rancid Tangent: X and I are constantly at odds over this issue. I want to record every potential scrap of Precious Memory, whereas, X thinks it is silly. In fact, he refused to participate in the Cereal Event unless I agreed to put the tripod away. Grrr...). I think Arun either really liked the cereal or the spoon itself as evidenced by the way he kept lunging with his open mouth after every spoonful even while CEREAL WAS STREAMING OUT of his gaping maw.
Swallowed:
Greedy Fly:
Anyway, I need to take a quick break from Taxation Vexation to also report that I used the words “tummy” and “wummy” in a sentence. Together. Like, DUDE, at the SAME TIME. Wash my mouth out with soap already. The minute those words left my mouth, I stood there for a minute wishing fervently I could TAKE THEM BACK. Even Arun went quiet for a millisecond. Maybe I should reconsider this whole “stay at home” thing if this is how quickly my language skills are going to regress.
Anyway, back to Uncle Sam. I will probably have something posted tomorrow, but in the meantime, April 15th looms large on my horizon. Actually, I already did our taxes over a month ago, but now must pay TurboTax for the privilige of having done so, print the forms out, review them, THEN e-file them. When I worked for Block’s Online Tax Program, it killed me how many people would e-file without checking their forms first. Unless you really want details as to how mind boggling our tax situation is, you should be grateful I am throwing out crap about my kid instead.
As a peace offering, I present for you pics from the Great Cereal Event. I have claimed that I took my time coming to this particular milestone because the doctor said there was no hurry. However, honestly? I am just a lazy ass. The kid is enough work as it is and now I HAVE TO PREPARE FOOD FOR HIM? Anyway, except for the fact that X wouldn’t let me get out the digital camcorder for the event, everything went fine ( Rancid Tangent: X and I are constantly at odds over this issue. I want to record every potential scrap of Precious Memory, whereas, X thinks it is silly. In fact, he refused to participate in the Cereal Event unless I agreed to put the tripod away. Grrr...). I think Arun either really liked the cereal or the spoon itself as evidenced by the way he kept lunging with his open mouth after every spoonful even while CEREAL WAS STREAMING OUT of his gaping maw.
Swallowed:
Greedy Fly:
March 27, 2006
Does it bother anyone else? A Redux
Call me a picky bitch (you won't be the first).........the hungry little caterpillar didn’t snuggle up in his cocoon, but rather his Chrysalis .......Good grief, no wonder SAT scores are going down.
Wow - there is so much going on right now, I am not sure where to start. All of it is boring to everyone except me, which is probably a good thing since it is MY life, after all. At a minimum, I need to be the one happy with it, right? Anyway, we’ve got farming, temari balls, fair isle hats, breastfeeding support groups with cool gals, taxation vexation, rice cereal, purging (not related to the cereal, thank goodness), and finally, pondering Life’s Choices. And I have no time to write about any of it.
Before I dash off, I leave you with this - Arun’s first shopping expedition in the cart. He was very concerned about it the entire time, which I guess would be normal for any 5 month old riding for the first time suspended way up in some metal contraption with your feet dangling in the air. I am just so excited that I won’t have to drag out the damned infant carrier anymore. Damn, I am SO damned tired of that damned carrier. The kid weighs more than 17 lbs as it is, adding the damned carrier makes it even damned worse AND Arun won’t even stay in the damned thing unless the damned car is actually moving. Damn it! I try to leave the damned carrier in the damned car as much as damned possible and often, I don’t bother to bring it in the house. But, before Friday, I had to take the damned thing out to do shopping. I often used up my precious, precious babysitting time doing shopping just so I wouldn't have to drag the damned carrier around. Which was a damned shame. NOW, I can use my precious, precious babysitting time for more important things, like fair isle hats.
Hot damn.
Wow - there is so much going on right now, I am not sure where to start. All of it is boring to everyone except me, which is probably a good thing since it is MY life, after all. At a minimum, I need to be the one happy with it, right? Anyway, we’ve got farming, temari balls, fair isle hats, breastfeeding support groups with cool gals, taxation vexation, rice cereal, purging (not related to the cereal, thank goodness), and finally, pondering Life’s Choices. And I have no time to write about any of it.
Before I dash off, I leave you with this - Arun’s first shopping expedition in the cart. He was very concerned about it the entire time, which I guess would be normal for any 5 month old riding for the first time suspended way up in some metal contraption with your feet dangling in the air. I am just so excited that I won’t have to drag out the damned infant carrier anymore. Damn, I am SO damned tired of that damned carrier. The kid weighs more than 17 lbs as it is, adding the damned carrier makes it even damned worse AND Arun won’t even stay in the damned thing unless the damned car is actually moving. Damn it! I try to leave the damned carrier in the damned car as much as damned possible and often, I don’t bother to bring it in the house. But, before Friday, I had to take the damned thing out to do shopping. I often used up my precious, precious babysitting time doing shopping just so I wouldn't have to drag the damned carrier around. Which was a damned shame. NOW, I can use my precious, precious babysitting time for more important things, like fair isle hats.
Hot damn.
March 23, 2006
Does it bother anyone else?
Bananas: Curious George wasn’t really a good little monkey, but rather a good little APE? Don’t get me wrong, but how the hell am I supposed to teach my kid about evolution when the venerable classic can’t even get it right?
Signs: Just when I thought I knew it all, I found out I knew NOTHING. For months, I was convinced that my kid was turning out to be a fussy personality. But I was puzzled because this fussiness was mixed with curious bravado. When faced with new and interesting situations (new people, airports, animals, etc), Arun’s eyes would just get widen while drinking it all in. He rarely exhibits fright. But the fussy behavior was puzzling. It turns out my kid was simply sleep deprived since his Idiot Mother completely and utterly misread his “sleepy cues”. The Screeching did not mean he was tired. No, NO indeed. It meant he was way PAST tired and don’t expect your $200, either. Criminey! I thought the original fussiness meant Hunger or Boredom, not knowing in the least that a tired baby can easily be distracted with some boobage or toys. I had no freakin’ idea that after commencing with The Screeching, the Tired Baby would morph into Overtired Baby where everything would quickly unravel into Chucky-style oblivion. In short, I had misgauged Arun’s optimal naptimes by about an hour and half and OH. MY. GOD. What a difference our lives are now that I have figured that out. I look at my college diplomas and just SHAKE MY HEAD IN GRIEF for all the good they are doing me right now. I need a license to sign off on financial statements, but good GOD, the state of Kansas still allowed me to reproduce.
Caged Wisdom: So, last week, Arun decided that yes, he might be open to sleeping in his CRIB. But only if the planets are aligned just so. And only if his Idiot Mother could figure out that he was tired ALREADY. Like, an hour and half ago. Anyway, previously, the most he had ever slept in the crib was 2 hours - and it was only on two separate, earth shattering occasions at that. It’s downright amazing to me to be able to set him in his crib at 8:00pmish, close the door, and WALK AWAY. I have been so giddy with the luxury of free time that the first few days this happened, I was back to Sleep Deprivation days because I stayed up well past midnight frolicking around the house, catching up on the DVR backlog, watching college basketball, knitting, and farting around on the Internet. I’ll admit, it was very hard to not drag him into bed with me when I finally went to bed myself, but I was curious how long he would stay in there. One night, he stayed there until 4:00amish - at that point, I brought him to bed, nursed him, then just left him in bed with me. I admit I would rather wake up to the sounds of my sweet boy babbling away while practicing his Bs and Ls. Beats an alarm clock, for sure. So, yes, YES - I do like co-sleeping, but realize that eventually he will need to move out. If this it, then I will accept it graciously. Sob.
Enemy at the Gates: Arun has been mobile for some time now, but he’s not crawling. He does this weird backwards scooting thing while on his back. He’s not at the point where he can exactly plan where he is going, but at this point, the baby blanket on the floor is really serving as a launch pad site of sorts. Basically, it’s high time I start babyproofing before he begins Mapquesting the house. He’s reaching cabinets and banging on the doors - it’s just a matter of time before he figures out there are all sorts of evil things behind those very doors (crack pipes, our stash of gin, the Origin of Species, whatnot). This babyproofing thing is actually harder than I thought it would be - all the decisions that must be made. I am not the sort to lock up everything in my house, put corner guards on every table and turn this new house into our version of “gated property”. I will lock up about half the cabinets and just make the sure the other half includes friendly objects such as DVDs or Tupperware. I just wish remote controls came with some sort of babyproofing device because the kid is already expressing his desire for the sixty squillion remotes we have laying around. Since I don’t even know what half the buttons are used for, he must not be allowed access at any cost.
The Prince of Tides: I used to hate bathtime. Truth be known, Arun didn’t actually get that many baths because I was afraid of his skin drying out. Besides, I wash his hair every other day and he frequently gets a Full Body Wipe Down down due to the fact that he is STILL craps his pants (what’s up with THAT? can't he just toilet train himself already?). So, I wasn’t too worried about it. However, he has outgrown the baby bathtub. I tried just putting him directly IN the tub, but he was too buoyant and kept tipping over. So I bought a small inflatable tub that fits in the regular tub. He LOVED it - he cried and reached for the tub when I finally dragged his pruned-up little body out of it. Even when he tipped over in it, he would get a shocked looked on his face, then continue grasping at his toys. It also made washing his hair a helluva lot easier because now I can dunk him directly into the water. This is much more efficient than using cup after cup after cup AFTER CUP of water to rinse his hair (when I wash it in the sink, I just stick his head directly under the faucet). The best part? I was using an extra snot sucker (I got THREE as gifts) as a bath toy to squirt water on him. I have never heard him giggle so deep and so loud - his whole body got into the act. Thank goodness for camcorders, because I never want to forget that. Never. There’s also great footage of me scrambling to grab him every time he tipped over. Must save that for the SRS hearings.
Million Dollar Baby: Now that Arun is taking proper naps, surprise, SUPRISE, he is not so crabby anymore and I am starting to actually LIKE the little turd. I always loved him, of course, but DAMN, he was so freain’ cranky until recently. However, I am finding that I really enjoy just hanging out with him NOW. I love lazy moments where I can just sit with on the floor and watch him play. Because surprise, surprise, now that he is getting adequate sleep, he has more patience for playing. His very favorite position is to sit and hunker down with his toys. I just set him down at the various Entertainment Kiosks we have established throughout the house and he gets right to work.
Gone in 60 Seconds: Now that Arun can sit fairly well, life is getting easier. He won’t stay in his carseat anymore, so restaurants were getting to be painful - now he can do the high chair. Next up? TARGET. Yes, Internet, I think my boy is ready for the shopping cart and yep, he's going commando and doing it without a shopping cart condom. My boy? He'd be livin' on the wild side.
Artificial Intelligence: I will say, it is just fascinating to watch Arun progress and grow. Not that I am proud, because as much as I hate to admit, I have little to do with it. Even the breastfeeding - it is amazing to me that Arun has completely gotten to his 17.3 lbs based soley on what my boobage provided him, but I can’t really take credit for that - my body and hormones just happened to work right. It’s nothing that I did “correctly”. In that vein, Arun doesn’t want to explore his world just because I am Good Mommy. He’s not scooting around on his back because I am a Good Mommy. He’s not babbling and working on his consonant “blends” because I am a Good Mommy. This is Intelligently Designed Evolution and as much as I would LOVE to take credit for it, Arun is simply doing what he is SUPPOSED to do. Somewhere, buried deep into the DNA of humans is this inate and insatiable desire to learn, grow, and succeed. It leaves me to wonder - where do we lose it? I'm sure all of us know at least one Loser. At what point does a human push his cards in and declare “I’m out.”? Certainly, most of us start out the same. So, as much as I would like to declare my little bundle of boy a genius, I can’t. He’s normal.
Regardless, I am still absolutely, positively captivated while watching his progress.
Picture Perfect:
Look closely for the drool.
Again, the drool. Behold the viscosity.
Nope. No drool. I just love how intent he is on his toy.
Signs: Just when I thought I knew it all, I found out I knew NOTHING. For months, I was convinced that my kid was turning out to be a fussy personality. But I was puzzled because this fussiness was mixed with curious bravado. When faced with new and interesting situations (new people, airports, animals, etc), Arun’s eyes would just get widen while drinking it all in. He rarely exhibits fright. But the fussy behavior was puzzling. It turns out my kid was simply sleep deprived since his Idiot Mother completely and utterly misread his “sleepy cues”. The Screeching did not mean he was tired. No, NO indeed. It meant he was way PAST tired and don’t expect your $200, either. Criminey! I thought the original fussiness meant Hunger or Boredom, not knowing in the least that a tired baby can easily be distracted with some boobage or toys. I had no freakin’ idea that after commencing with The Screeching, the Tired Baby would morph into Overtired Baby where everything would quickly unravel into Chucky-style oblivion. In short, I had misgauged Arun’s optimal naptimes by about an hour and half and OH. MY. GOD. What a difference our lives are now that I have figured that out. I look at my college diplomas and just SHAKE MY HEAD IN GRIEF for all the good they are doing me right now. I need a license to sign off on financial statements, but good GOD, the state of Kansas still allowed me to reproduce.
Caged Wisdom: So, last week, Arun decided that yes, he might be open to sleeping in his CRIB. But only if the planets are aligned just so. And only if his Idiot Mother could figure out that he was tired ALREADY. Like, an hour and half ago. Anyway, previously, the most he had ever slept in the crib was 2 hours - and it was only on two separate, earth shattering occasions at that. It’s downright amazing to me to be able to set him in his crib at 8:00pmish, close the door, and WALK AWAY. I have been so giddy with the luxury of free time that the first few days this happened, I was back to Sleep Deprivation days because I stayed up well past midnight frolicking around the house, catching up on the DVR backlog, watching college basketball, knitting, and farting around on the Internet. I’ll admit, it was very hard to not drag him into bed with me when I finally went to bed myself, but I was curious how long he would stay in there. One night, he stayed there until 4:00amish - at that point, I brought him to bed, nursed him, then just left him in bed with me. I admit I would rather wake up to the sounds of my sweet boy babbling away while practicing his Bs and Ls. Beats an alarm clock, for sure. So, yes, YES - I do like co-sleeping, but realize that eventually he will need to move out. If this it, then I will accept it graciously. Sob.
Enemy at the Gates: Arun has been mobile for some time now, but he’s not crawling. He does this weird backwards scooting thing while on his back. He’s not at the point where he can exactly plan where he is going, but at this point, the baby blanket on the floor is really serving as a launch pad site of sorts. Basically, it’s high time I start babyproofing before he begins Mapquesting the house. He’s reaching cabinets and banging on the doors - it’s just a matter of time before he figures out there are all sorts of evil things behind those very doors (crack pipes, our stash of gin, the Origin of Species, whatnot). This babyproofing thing is actually harder than I thought it would be - all the decisions that must be made. I am not the sort to lock up everything in my house, put corner guards on every table and turn this new house into our version of “gated property”. I will lock up about half the cabinets and just make the sure the other half includes friendly objects such as DVDs or Tupperware. I just wish remote controls came with some sort of babyproofing device because the kid is already expressing his desire for the sixty squillion remotes we have laying around. Since I don’t even know what half the buttons are used for, he must not be allowed access at any cost.
The Prince of Tides: I used to hate bathtime. Truth be known, Arun didn’t actually get that many baths because I was afraid of his skin drying out. Besides, I wash his hair every other day and he frequently gets a Full Body Wipe Down down due to the fact that he is STILL craps his pants (what’s up with THAT? can't he just toilet train himself already?). So, I wasn’t too worried about it. However, he has outgrown the baby bathtub. I tried just putting him directly IN the tub, but he was too buoyant and kept tipping over. So I bought a small inflatable tub that fits in the regular tub. He LOVED it - he cried and reached for the tub when I finally dragged his pruned-up little body out of it. Even when he tipped over in it, he would get a shocked looked on his face, then continue grasping at his toys. It also made washing his hair a helluva lot easier because now I can dunk him directly into the water. This is much more efficient than using cup after cup after cup AFTER CUP of water to rinse his hair (when I wash it in the sink, I just stick his head directly under the faucet). The best part? I was using an extra snot sucker (I got THREE as gifts) as a bath toy to squirt water on him. I have never heard him giggle so deep and so loud - his whole body got into the act. Thank goodness for camcorders, because I never want to forget that. Never. There’s also great footage of me scrambling to grab him every time he tipped over. Must save that for the SRS hearings.
Million Dollar Baby: Now that Arun is taking proper naps, surprise, SUPRISE, he is not so crabby anymore and I am starting to actually LIKE the little turd. I always loved him, of course, but DAMN, he was so freain’ cranky until recently. However, I am finding that I really enjoy just hanging out with him NOW. I love lazy moments where I can just sit with on the floor and watch him play. Because surprise, surprise, now that he is getting adequate sleep, he has more patience for playing. His very favorite position is to sit and hunker down with his toys. I just set him down at the various Entertainment Kiosks we have established throughout the house and he gets right to work.
Gone in 60 Seconds: Now that Arun can sit fairly well, life is getting easier. He won’t stay in his carseat anymore, so restaurants were getting to be painful - now he can do the high chair. Next up? TARGET. Yes, Internet, I think my boy is ready for the shopping cart and yep, he's going commando and doing it without a shopping cart condom. My boy? He'd be livin' on the wild side.
Artificial Intelligence: I will say, it is just fascinating to watch Arun progress and grow. Not that I am proud, because as much as I hate to admit, I have little to do with it. Even the breastfeeding - it is amazing to me that Arun has completely gotten to his 17.3 lbs based soley on what my boobage provided him, but I can’t really take credit for that - my body and hormones just happened to work right. It’s nothing that I did “correctly”. In that vein, Arun doesn’t want to explore his world just because I am Good Mommy. He’s not scooting around on his back because I am a Good Mommy. He’s not babbling and working on his consonant “blends” because I am a Good Mommy. This is Intelligently Designed Evolution and as much as I would LOVE to take credit for it, Arun is simply doing what he is SUPPOSED to do. Somewhere, buried deep into the DNA of humans is this inate and insatiable desire to learn, grow, and succeed. It leaves me to wonder - where do we lose it? I'm sure all of us know at least one Loser. At what point does a human push his cards in and declare “I’m out.”? Certainly, most of us start out the same. So, as much as I would like to declare my little bundle of boy a genius, I can’t. He’s normal.
Regardless, I am still absolutely, positively captivated while watching his progress.
Picture Perfect:
Look closely for the drool.
Again, the drool. Behold the viscosity.
Nope. No drool. I just love how intent he is on his toy.
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