The other night, I got home to find Andrea giving Calli her nightly bath (I'm sure we could get away with bathing her every other night, but we're using a Lavender-scented bath to help her sleep. I'll never know if it's working, or if she was just due to start passing-out earlier, but I'm not messing with a winning formula!). Andrea said, in her most serious tone, “go ahead, ask us how our day was.” I groaned, then obliged her. “It was wonderful. Barely a fussy moment. This is what I'd hoped motherhood would be like.”
Andrea had found the pregnancy gods to be fair – no morning sickness, but gestational diabetes – so it seems the parenting gods are fair too. For every episode of contraceptive-inducing fussiness, there are days that we like her as much as we love her.
It seems that it may have been a developmental thing, at the tail-end of her miserable phase, she began grasping things more than ever. It's amazing to watch these developments, and to be just flush with pride when such simple things happen. I mean, when I make other people laugh, I'm a little proud, but when I make Calli laugh, I feel like the guy who cured Polio!
While she's always chewed her own hands, she has now taken to chewing on ours! She looks like a cartoon of a cave-dweller diving into an over-sized drumstick, with the appropriate “Aaagh” noise. In the last 4 1/2 months since she's arrived, I've been some-kind-of-retentive with my hand-washing, but now I've upped the ante. The last thing she needs is cinnamon heart residue. (I've eaten enough of those to make me afraid of burning red dookies).
Speaking of which, Andrea found the coolest shirt for her, it has a circle-controller like an iPod, but it says “iPooped.” Like a 13-year-old, I laughed my ass off!
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Curmudgeon-Pants
On Sunday, while at work, I had the feeling that I should call home before leaving. While I am a believer in extra-sensory perceptions, I'm also a rationalist, and wait for a second instance before calling it a premonition. When I clocked-out, it occurred to me again that I should call to see if there was anything I needed to pick up on the way home. I found my wife to be quite beside herself; nearly in tears. Her Facebook status says it best:
SOS....calling all parents. Having a hard time putting Callie down for any length of time, even to make dinner or a cup of tea. She just screams her fool head off and as soon as I pick her up she is fine. I have tried letting her cry it out (no go she has more stamina than me) and it is not because of discomfort, wetness or hunger. Any suggestions would be great.
We often call her Little Miss Curmudgeon-Pants (Would you believe my spell-check has “Curmudgeon”).
Of the five responses I saw, three were condolences, and two said something to the effect of “just keep talking/singing/dancing for her. Stay in her sight.” Well, thanks for the input, but perhaps you could read the post first, and then respond.
We think it may be because of a change in formula, but that explanation feels like straw-grasping. Our doctor thinks it may be a developmental thing, as in Calli's getting ready to express herself more, but doesn't know how, and is frustrated. (nurse practitioner actually, but anyone who's worked in the medical field will tell you that nurses do the lions-share of the work, anyway. Not to minimize doctors at all, they did go to school longer, and are qualified to sign more papers.)
We've tried Gripe Water. We've tried Tylonol (only once, and as a last resort). If any of you more experienced parents have any insights, I'd be grateful!
SOS....calling all parents. Having a hard time putting Callie down for any length of time, even to make dinner or a cup of tea. She just screams her fool head off and as soon as I pick her up she is fine. I have tried letting her cry it out (no go she has more stamina than me) and it is not because of discomfort, wetness or hunger. Any suggestions would be great.
We often call her Little Miss Curmudgeon-Pants (Would you believe my spell-check has “Curmudgeon”).
Of the five responses I saw, three were condolences, and two said something to the effect of “just keep talking/singing/dancing for her. Stay in her sight.” Well, thanks for the input, but perhaps you could read the post first, and then respond.
We think it may be because of a change in formula, but that explanation feels like straw-grasping. Our doctor thinks it may be a developmental thing, as in Calli's getting ready to express herself more, but doesn't know how, and is frustrated. (nurse practitioner actually, but anyone who's worked in the medical field will tell you that nurses do the lions-share of the work, anyway. Not to minimize doctors at all, they did go to school longer, and are qualified to sign more papers.)
We've tried Gripe Water. We've tried Tylonol (only once, and as a last resort). If any of you more experienced parents have any insights, I'd be grateful!
Friday, February 5, 2010
Friends in Short Places.
I've learned from other parenting Blogs that much of the fun of parenting comes from the friends of our children. I'm kinda hoping to be the “Cool Dad,” even when my kids get to the age when parents are as far from 'cool' as they could possibly. To paraphrase Luke Skywalker, “If there's a cool center to the universe, my parents are on the planet that it's furthest from.” I'm sure that being a SciFi fan will win me some serious Cool Points in the eyes of my children. But if at least their friends think I'm cool, they can convince my kids to call me if they're in a serious jam.
When my sister & I were in elementary school, she had a friend who would come over all the time, and grew quite comfortable with our family. One night, we were getting pizza, and conspired to have a little fun with her. After dishing it out, we paused just a moment so she'd have time to start, then we picked up our knives & forks and after beginning a cut, looked at her like she was some kind of primate. We only let the gag go for long enough for her to be mortified for just a moment, her face falling at her faux pas. Her and my sister are still good friends.
I guess my last post was a little bit of a downer, but I'm sure that it just the first of the difficulties I'll have. I've said it before, and it bears repeating: whatever I'm going through, I'll likely look back and call it 'the easy part.' A perfect example is feeding. Right now, I put a bottle in her mouth (after 3-4 minutes of warming) and watch TV or play on the computer. Soon enough, we'll be spoon-feeding, which I'm sure will be much more focus-intensive. Then we get to deal with dietary pickiness. Whoopee. In the comments of my last post, Candance highlighted this wonderfully. If you haven't been to her Blog at Crazy Texas Mommy, go. Go now. Run, don't walk.She has my vote for Queen of the Silver Lining.
When my sister & I were in elementary school, she had a friend who would come over all the time, and grew quite comfortable with our family. One night, we were getting pizza, and conspired to have a little fun with her. After dishing it out, we paused just a moment so she'd have time to start, then we picked up our knives & forks and after beginning a cut, looked at her like she was some kind of primate. We only let the gag go for long enough for her to be mortified for just a moment, her face falling at her faux pas. Her and my sister are still good friends.
I guess my last post was a little bit of a downer, but I'm sure that it just the first of the difficulties I'll have. I've said it before, and it bears repeating: whatever I'm going through, I'll likely look back and call it 'the easy part.' A perfect example is feeding. Right now, I put a bottle in her mouth (after 3-4 minutes of warming) and watch TV or play on the computer. Soon enough, we'll be spoon-feeding, which I'm sure will be much more focus-intensive. Then we get to deal with dietary pickiness. Whoopee. In the comments of my last post, Candance highlighted this wonderfully. If you haven't been to her Blog at Crazy Texas Mommy, go. Go now. Run, don't walk.She has my vote for Queen of the Silver Lining.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Night of the Living Deaf
Today, I sat with Calli in her nursery, having a quiet feeding. We were upstairs because Andrea was napping in the living room. As she gripped my finger and dozed, I just relished the sweet peacefulness of the scene, made all the sweeter because of the terrible evenings she's been giving me.
For some reason, in the window between six & seven PM, she transforms into some strange shrieking beast! So I pat her back until she burps or spits-up, or both, and she continues to freak the eff out! Often, she's just fussy until about 8 when Andrea goes up for a bath, then it's full-on banshee action!
Are you picking-up on the frustration, here? I'm told that I shouldn't take it personally, and I mentally don't, but when she's making my ears buzz from overload (really, that's not a poetic statement, they really buzz like an overloaded speaker!), I begin to think that she hates me!
Thank God she's just a delight for the rest of the day! I know that these thoughts are totally unreasonable, and that they'll all be forgotten when she takes her first steps, or says “Daddy.” But on these evenings, I need to hide sharp objects, or I'll unload my gun, so to speak.
Andrea: “How was she last night?”
Me: “Great, when she found out that she'd be an only child. Could you grab me a coffee? I should keep these frozen peas where they are.”
Of course, I'm just venting. For most of the day, she's great. Even when she's fussy, it doesn't get to that tragedy-pitch very often. Some believe that babies pick up on their parents stress. In that case, I can blame some others, outside my home, for their harassment campaign giving me grief! GET A NEW HOBBY, PH'KHOLS!
Well, that feels better to get that off my chest! Can I assume that it gets worse with teething?
For some reason, in the window between six & seven PM, she transforms into some strange shrieking beast! So I pat her back until she burps or spits-up, or both, and she continues to freak the eff out! Often, she's just fussy until about 8 when Andrea goes up for a bath, then it's full-on banshee action!
Are you picking-up on the frustration, here? I'm told that I shouldn't take it personally, and I mentally don't, but when she's making my ears buzz from overload (really, that's not a poetic statement, they really buzz like an overloaded speaker!), I begin to think that she hates me!
Thank God she's just a delight for the rest of the day! I know that these thoughts are totally unreasonable, and that they'll all be forgotten when she takes her first steps, or says “Daddy.” But on these evenings, I need to hide sharp objects, or I'll unload my gun, so to speak.
Andrea: “How was she last night?”
Me: “Great, when she found out that she'd be an only child. Could you grab me a coffee? I should keep these frozen peas where they are.”
Of course, I'm just venting. For most of the day, she's great. Even when she's fussy, it doesn't get to that tragedy-pitch very often. Some believe that babies pick up on their parents stress. In that case, I can blame some others, outside my home, for their harassment campaign giving me grief! GET A NEW HOBBY, PH'KHOLS!
Well, that feels better to get that off my chest! Can I assume that it gets worse with teething?
Friday, January 22, 2010
Practice-run at Father Of The Year
It looks like I won’t be getting my Father Of The Year award this year. It seems I blew it before the end of January, but hey, it’s my first stab at it, so better luck next year.
I was out of the running the other night, when I tried to put Calli in her swinging chair. All was well, until I put the tray down, and pinched her finger. For an hour, I felt like a sack of shit, and though I’m sure she forgot it pretty quickly, I haven’t. There was even a little red mark – horror of horrors! My baby’s been blemished! And believe you me, there was a very different pitch to her cry than the standard ‘hungry’ or ‘fussy-for-the-hell-of-it’ whimperings! I understand it happens to every parent, but why oh why can’t I do all my learning from books? I should be able to make a deal with the Powers That Be that it’s my fingers getting pinched! Then, I’ll know where the danger is, and Calli can tra-la-la through life, with nary a scrape or blister!
When I told my mom about this, she remembered that when I was a wee scamp, I got a finger caught in the chain of an excer-cycle. The wheel only went one way. That’s it; no work-out equipment in my home! For the children! (Am I that transparent?)
Then today, she got her 4-month shots. She was an admirable trooper through the first one, like “OK, shit happens, and you get one free pass.” The second one brought a much different response. I’m sure the whole office heard, and she looked like her head had been swapped with a very shrill tomato! She got her mileage out of it too, and fussed until we got home, and Andrea could present her…lunch. I get it, they cheer my up too!
I was out of the running the other night, when I tried to put Calli in her swinging chair. All was well, until I put the tray down, and pinched her finger. For an hour, I felt like a sack of shit, and though I’m sure she forgot it pretty quickly, I haven’t. There was even a little red mark – horror of horrors! My baby’s been blemished! And believe you me, there was a very different pitch to her cry than the standard ‘hungry’ or ‘fussy-for-the-hell-of-it’ whimperings! I understand it happens to every parent, but why oh why can’t I do all my learning from books? I should be able to make a deal with the Powers That Be that it’s my fingers getting pinched! Then, I’ll know where the danger is, and Calli can tra-la-la through life, with nary a scrape or blister!
When I told my mom about this, she remembered that when I was a wee scamp, I got a finger caught in the chain of an excer-cycle. The wheel only went one way. That’s it; no work-out equipment in my home! For the children! (Am I that transparent?)
Then today, she got her 4-month shots. She was an admirable trooper through the first one, like “OK, shit happens, and you get one free pass.” The second one brought a much different response. I’m sure the whole office heard, and she looked like her head had been swapped with a very shrill tomato! She got her mileage out of it too, and fussed until we got home, and Andrea could present her…lunch. I get it, they cheer my up too!
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
The Lists of Eight
Laura over at Vodka Logic tagged me to play Lucky Chinese Tag. I think it’s Chinese because eight is one of their lucky numbers, though I’m not certain of that. Feel free to correct me if I’m talking out my ignorance. Like VL, I’m also a little dry on ideas right now, winter blahs and holiday fatigue, I s’pose.
So here’s my lists of eight:
Eight TV Shows I Watch:
NCIS. Great characters, great writing!
Bones. Ditto
Ancient Discoveries. Looking for hints as to what was going on before our recorded history. I mean, we have a multi-billion year old planet, and about 7000 years of recorded history, doesn’t this bother anyone else?
Clone Wars, when I can find it.
The Daily Show. Jon Stewart is freakin’ hilarious!
The Cobert Report. J Stewart’s shadow-self.
Simpsons. Naturally
Family Guy. And Seth McFarlands other shows, but I’m out of space.
Eight Favorite Places to Eat & Drink
At home. I’m a bit of a hermit, and my wife works magic in the kitchen!
Celeihd’s (now closed) Live Music, and bitchin’ curry-pineapple wings & mushroom caps!
Wild Wings. Spotting a trend?
Furusato Sushi. A little pricey, but they’ve spoiled me!
Royal Thai. They’ve spoiled me for Pad Thai!
Dominoes Pizza. Hard to find pizza that doesn’t cheap-out on the feta!
Licks Burgers. Fast food set-up, but almost as good as a pub burger.
Looking for a good Indian Food place.
Eight Things I look Forward To
Date Nights
Calli having a 7:30 bedtime, so Andrea & I can get re-acquainted
Days off/free time
Getting paid to write
A bigger house
Having friends over for dinner
New podcasts from “I Should Be Writing”
All our kids being toilet trained
Eight Things that Happened Yesterday
Got a new dining room set.
Drove a large van for the first time. Scary/Wheee!
Took care of Calli as Andrea re-organized the kitchen.
Visited with Paul, who was kind enough to help me move this furniture.
Checked out the burger/pizza/etc place across the street. Not bad, but not Top Eight.
Chatted with a buddy in Vancouver that I used to play in a metal band with.
Found out that our former singer has had twins, and the drummer is singing opera.
Figuratively shat my pants about a metal drummer singing opera.
Eight things I Love About Winter
More comfortable to wear jeans and collared shirts.
New Years.
Christmas.
It’s pretty, on this side of the window.
It’s especially pretty in around my parent’s rural area.
It’s fun when my little car fish-tails, providing there’s no one close enough to hit.
Everyone’s complaining about the same thing!
Every day of winter is one less day of winter.
Eight Things on my Wish List
Financial independence
Korn Reunion, with or without Brian “Head” Welch
The Tea Party Reunion. The Band, not the political movement.
I hope we’re both there for Calli’s first word. Nng-Ga doesn’t count.
Nine Inch Nails playing my Birthday Party.
Sell more books than Dan Brown. That’s not a dis, just ambition.
Find the CD’s I lost.
Time to play bass & guitar.
Eight Things I am Passionate About.
My Wife.
My Little Girl.
The rest of my family.
Books.
Music.
Belief Systems, especially the Esoteric.
Being open to learn from all interactions.
Coffee.
Eight Words I Often Use
Apparently.
Cheers.
Thanks.
Shit.
Tarnation.
Persnickety.
Sweet.
Swinehound (pronounced “Svine-hoont.” All the best cursing is in German or Klingon. Japanese is good too, if you want to include a few generations on either side of the person being cursed).
Eight Things I Learned from the Past
It’s better to ask a stupid question than to make a stupid mistake, especially at the pharmacy.
That sweet black Mustang is a ghost car. Police, not haunted.
Attractive people can be shy too.
The truth of a story aren’t as important as it’s effect on the listener.
Don’t run in the dark.
Don’t go into a new social setting trying to prove how much I know.
Revolutions morph into the same-old-same-old.
If someone looks Bad-Assed, they’re probably really nice.
Eight Things I Want/Need.
Patience.
Time.
Money-Smarts.
Balance.
Recording Equipment.
“Jedi” to be a recognized religion.
An On-Suite with a Starbucks
A cottage on a small island.
Eight People I Want to Tag.
Bethany at All In The Mind of Belbin
Matt at My Journey into Locomotion
Adam at Throwing Quarters
Just Jules
Crazy Texas Mommy
Scribbling in San Antonio
Daddy Scratches
Plain Ol' Bob
Enjoy!
So here’s my lists of eight:
Eight TV Shows I Watch:
NCIS. Great characters, great writing!
Bones. Ditto
Ancient Discoveries. Looking for hints as to what was going on before our recorded history. I mean, we have a multi-billion year old planet, and about 7000 years of recorded history, doesn’t this bother anyone else?
Clone Wars, when I can find it.
The Daily Show. Jon Stewart is freakin’ hilarious!
The Cobert Report. J Stewart’s shadow-self.
Simpsons. Naturally
Family Guy. And Seth McFarlands other shows, but I’m out of space.
Eight Favorite Places to Eat & Drink
At home. I’m a bit of a hermit, and my wife works magic in the kitchen!
Celeihd’s (now closed) Live Music, and bitchin’ curry-pineapple wings & mushroom caps!
Wild Wings. Spotting a trend?
Furusato Sushi. A little pricey, but they’ve spoiled me!
Royal Thai. They’ve spoiled me for Pad Thai!
Dominoes Pizza. Hard to find pizza that doesn’t cheap-out on the feta!
Licks Burgers. Fast food set-up, but almost as good as a pub burger.
Looking for a good Indian Food place.
Eight Things I look Forward To
Date Nights
Calli having a 7:30 bedtime, so Andrea & I can get re-acquainted
Days off/free time
Getting paid to write
A bigger house
Having friends over for dinner
New podcasts from “I Should Be Writing”
All our kids being toilet trained
Eight Things that Happened Yesterday
Got a new dining room set.
Drove a large van for the first time. Scary/Wheee!
Took care of Calli as Andrea re-organized the kitchen.
Visited with Paul, who was kind enough to help me move this furniture.
Checked out the burger/pizza/etc place across the street. Not bad, but not Top Eight.
Chatted with a buddy in Vancouver that I used to play in a metal band with.
Found out that our former singer has had twins, and the drummer is singing opera.
Figuratively shat my pants about a metal drummer singing opera.
Eight things I Love About Winter
More comfortable to wear jeans and collared shirts.
New Years.
Christmas.
It’s pretty, on this side of the window.
It’s especially pretty in around my parent’s rural area.
It’s fun when my little car fish-tails, providing there’s no one close enough to hit.
Everyone’s complaining about the same thing!
Every day of winter is one less day of winter.
Eight Things on my Wish List
Financial independence
Korn Reunion, with or without Brian “Head” Welch
The Tea Party Reunion. The Band, not the political movement.
I hope we’re both there for Calli’s first word. Nng-Ga doesn’t count.
Nine Inch Nails playing my Birthday Party.
Sell more books than Dan Brown. That’s not a dis, just ambition.
Find the CD’s I lost.
Time to play bass & guitar.
Eight Things I am Passionate About.
My Wife.
My Little Girl.
The rest of my family.
Books.
Music.
Belief Systems, especially the Esoteric.
Being open to learn from all interactions.
Coffee.
Eight Words I Often Use
Apparently.
Cheers.
Thanks.
Shit.
Tarnation.
Persnickety.
Sweet.
Swinehound (pronounced “Svine-hoont.” All the best cursing is in German or Klingon. Japanese is good too, if you want to include a few generations on either side of the person being cursed).
Eight Things I Learned from the Past
It’s better to ask a stupid question than to make a stupid mistake, especially at the pharmacy.
That sweet black Mustang is a ghost car. Police, not haunted.
Attractive people can be shy too.
The truth of a story aren’t as important as it’s effect on the listener.
Don’t run in the dark.
Don’t go into a new social setting trying to prove how much I know.
Revolutions morph into the same-old-same-old.
If someone looks Bad-Assed, they’re probably really nice.
Eight Things I Want/Need.
Patience.
Time.
Money-Smarts.
Balance.
Recording Equipment.
“Jedi” to be a recognized religion.
An On-Suite with a Starbucks
A cottage on a small island.
Eight People I Want to Tag.
Bethany at All In The Mind of Belbin
Matt at My Journey into Locomotion
Adam at Throwing Quarters
Just Jules
Crazy Texas Mommy
Scribbling in San Antonio
Daddy Scratches
Plain Ol' Bob
Enjoy!
Monday, January 11, 2010
They're Ba-a-a-ak...
Remember the Mini-Pops? Back in the early 80’s, some label got some kids who could sing, and got them to do cover versions of popular songs. You may recall nine-year-olds singing “Hungry like a Wolf” and “Who Can It Be Now.” I’d imagine that these kids are now worse off than the real pop stars, who can at least still get booked at County Fairs.
Well, they’re back. Funnily, they’re re-doing “Africa,” since it’s back on the charts. A cover-of-a-cover, if you will. I can smile at that little piece of nostalgia, but when I heard some child singing Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face,” I went white. I’m especially troubled by the “…bluffin’ with my muffin…” line. Before I found out that (s)he was trans-gendered, I thought she was championing the cock-tease; not something I believe should be promoted among out eight-year-olds, and certainly not a good idea for any woman. Men tend to get very angry at such misunderstandings.
On the other hand, when I started paying attention to popular music, Prince’s “Purple Rain” was all the rage, and I think it helped me be very appreciative of gender-benders. That music was also very explicit, and it didn’t mess my head up too much. My sexual morals still reflect my parents more than the culture at the time. But that’s the furthest thing from my mind when I think of my little girl singing “…you spin me right ‘round when you go down…” I may be getting a little ahead of myself, since she’s barely linked vowel & consonant sounds.
I know that some of you have teenage girls – do I have my knickers in a twist over nothing, or is it time to buy a hydro-less cabin in the boonies, and go Amish?
Well, they’re back. Funnily, they’re re-doing “Africa,” since it’s back on the charts. A cover-of-a-cover, if you will. I can smile at that little piece of nostalgia, but when I heard some child singing Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face,” I went white. I’m especially troubled by the “…bluffin’ with my muffin…” line. Before I found out that (s)he was trans-gendered, I thought she was championing the cock-tease; not something I believe should be promoted among out eight-year-olds, and certainly not a good idea for any woman. Men tend to get very angry at such misunderstandings.
On the other hand, when I started paying attention to popular music, Prince’s “Purple Rain” was all the rage, and I think it helped me be very appreciative of gender-benders. That music was also very explicit, and it didn’t mess my head up too much. My sexual morals still reflect my parents more than the culture at the time. But that’s the furthest thing from my mind when I think of my little girl singing “…you spin me right ‘round when you go down…” I may be getting a little ahead of myself, since she’s barely linked vowel & consonant sounds.
I know that some of you have teenage girls – do I have my knickers in a twist over nothing, or is it time to buy a hydro-less cabin in the boonies, and go Amish?
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