Rebellin

Those of you that know me know that I love to swim, and I love to hang out at lakes/beaches/pools/the ocean, etc. This past weekend, Little Miss made it obvious that she is not yet signed up for this plan with me.

I decided it was time to start her acclimation to the water, so I took her to the pool today after work. My first challenge was changing into my swim suit as Little Miss tried to walk her way back out of the locker room. I never even anticipated that being an issue.

Then, on to the swimming lesson. It was pure baby torture. She screamed the whole time and clutched to me for dear life. Last summer, she loved the pool. This summer, she has discovered fear.

I used to teach Parent-Tot swim lessons with babies from 6 months of age up to 2 years. I have seen some kids throw some impressive tantrums the first few class sessions. I’ll have you know that my daughter’s tantrum today would have rivaled the best of my former pupils.

I will not be discouraged, though. I know this will take time and perserverance. Much to her chegrin, we will be headed back to the pool on Friday, and then at least twice a week after that until she becomes the Water Baby I know she can be.

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I am back from spending four days in St. George, Utah visiting some friends. We had a great time hanging out and catching up with our good friends. The traveling with Little Miss went relatively well. That is, until we missed our return flight. But I’ll get to that in a minute.

We spent every day of our vacation going to local lakes and hanging out on the beach or on our friends’ boats. It was very relaxing, and I was able to get in some nice open water swims each day, which makes me very happy.

Little Miss has a ways to go in becoming a good beach baby… She absolutely hated the sand, and also getting her feet wet. I didn’t even try to get more of her wet because she threw such a fit when we dipped her feet. It was the only time this vacation when she was still (besides naps). She wouldn’t move from the beach towel.

I was right to think that vacationing with a toddler isn’t really a vacation, as I spent most of my time following her around and trying to keep her happy. She was crabbier than usual, which I think was just due to stimulation overload.

Things really got interesting on our return trip. We spent Sunday at the lake (and our host’s mother graciously volunteered to watch Little Miss for the day, so I was FREE – yeah!!!). Par for the course with us, we stayed at the lake as long as we could, with each of us getting in a nice 45 minute swim. On our drive back to our hosts’ house, we started itching. All over.

Turned out that we picked up some kind of parasite in the lake. FUN!!! So there was a bit of a delay as we figured out what was wrong with us (as we had rashes all over our bodies), put on Calomine lotion and our hosts dug up some allergy medication for us to take. We then hit the road for the 2 hour drive to the Las Vegas airport. It was relatively smooth until we got turned around trying to find the rental car return. Next thing you know, we’re REALLY tight on time. We checked our bags, ran to the gate, and arrived just in time to see our flight — the last flight to Reno of the day — pulling back from the gate.

We tried to reclaim our baggage and were denied. That is how I found myself in Vegas with three diapers and… wait for it… ONE BABY WIPE to last me for the next 17 hours.

We went to the info desk at the airport, where we told the guy behind the counter that we were looking for a decent hotel that was close and with a free shuttle. He called the Knight’s Inn and made a reservation for us, saying it is “nice”.

And it was… FOR A CRACK HOUSE. Oh, golly, that was a miserable mistake. They didn’t have a crib for Little Miss, and the only store within walking distance was a gas station. We walked to the gas station in search of diapers, milk and wipes. I found everything but diapers. That is when I got creative, and purchased some super duper maxi pads, in hopes that they would extend the life of the three diapers we had on hand.

So, Monday morning, we woke up (after sleeping in our clothes and having absolutely no toiletries available to us), I finger combed my hair (i.e. we were looking ROUGH), and headed to the airport. And that was when we were reminded how smart we were when we decided to travel on Sunday and avoid the peak travel period of Memorial Day. Ah, the best laid plans. It took almost an hour to check in and make it through security.

Little Miss did about 2 laps of the C Gate at that airport. But she was in good spirits, waving to everyone, and saying one of her new words, “hi”. She also picked up another word on the trip, “Eee-iiii”, as in “eee-iii-eee-iii-ooooo” from Old Macdonald.

We made it home around noon yesterday, with everything intact. We felt like we had been run over by a mack truck, but we were intact. I put Little Miss down as we brought in the luggage. She went straight to her Dora car (the one my brother and his family got for her because he knew how annoying it would be), and she pushed the button that made Dora say, “We MADE IT to the Carnival!”. It was very appropriate, as the entire day had felt like some crazy carnival ride.

A few minutes later, I saw some wet spots on the carpet. I thought “where did she get a hold of water?”, and as I investigated closer, I found that we had reached max-capacity of that third and final diaper (with a maxi pad stuck inside). Her pants were soaked and there was a mini-puddle on the carpet.

I couldn’t help but think of my luck that the diaper didn’t give out while she was sitting in my lap on the plane! Wooo!!!

So that was our “vacation”. I took limited pictures (as I was too busy chasing after Little Miss), and will post them later this week.

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I’ve been it a bit of a blog slump lately, and for no particular reason. I guess I’ll do one entry that bounces around a lot to catch you up.

Little Miss was sick Wednesday through Friday of last week with a high fever. She got well on Saturday, so we went to a friend’s birthday party at one of those indoor play areas, and Little Miss had a blast. That night, she broke out in a rash all over.

Of course, JB was convinced she contracted something new at the birthday party. My first thought was chicken pox, but considering she had been vaccinated against that, it wasn’t likely. The next morning, the rash was worse – even on her scalp, and the poor girl couldn’t stop scratching her head. I called Pediatric Urgent care, and was advised that it was simply a rash that breaks out after a fever, and that she wasn’t contagious. That is a good thing, as I really needed her to be able to go to daycare on Monday.

Speaking of the party, her goodie bag had beads in it. Little Miss immediately took the beads and put them over her head, and was completely enthralled with them. I sat there wondering where she ever learned about beads. But anyway, seeing her new fascination, we dug out some old Mardi-Gras beads we got at a bar, and she has been wearing all three sets of beads almost constantly. It’s pretty funny, but a part of me is cringing, knowing that if she turns out to be a girly-girl, it will kill a certain Tom-boy part of her mother.

I am looking at flying with Little Miss in the very near future, and I have to admit that I’ve had thoughts of making up some excuse to cancel the trip, as I’m very nervous about traveling with a fully mobile toddler who has just learned how to do tantrums. I am going to be one of THOSE people on the plane… You know, the ones that people hate to see as they board the plane. Luckily it’s a short flight.

It seems so attractive to just stay home and not throw off her schedule, and I’ve found myself thinking that about several of our upcoming trips. I realize that my challenge this summer will be to forge ahead, as a life spent at home without any travel or fun trips is just boring. I just have to accept that traveling with a toddler really isn’t a vacation, as I know it will be exhausting. But I can’t live in a cocoon forever. And I figure I have to learn how to do this and suck it up, because if I don’t, after kiddo number two (no, still not pregnant, people), I would never leave the house.

As for Little Miss, I have been referring to her lately as our “Little Celebrity”, as she waves at people every time she walks. At the grocery store, leaving daycare, it doesn’t matter, she is waving at complete strangers as if to say “don’t you know who I am?!” Many people get a kick out of this, but it really surprises me how many people just ignore her. Come on, she is adorable, and she is waving at you! Can’t you have a heart and wave back?!

So, that’s about all that is going on. I am coming up on a busy Memorial Day weekend that will keep me far away from the Internet, so don’t expect to hear much more from me this week.

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Today marks the one year anniversary of me returning to work after maternity leave. I have officially been a working mother for one year, and for me, that is a time of reflection. May 10 last year was this looming deadline – the end to the carefree, schedule-free days of maternity leave, when the days would melt together and I could spend all of my time with my baby.

I never planned to be a working mom, nor did I really want to be one. I always thought I’d stay at home once I had kids. But then the stars aligned for reasons too personal to share here, and here I am, a working mom.

A super long post follows if you click to read more. I figure not all of you are interested in my reflections.

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It’s not secret that my daughter will be tall. I think she’s going to be REALLY TALL. My husband is 6’6″, I’m 5’8″ (the shortest in my family), and both sides of the family have 6 foot tall women and men topping 6’4″ in the gene pool. And that’s a good, beautiful thing. Being tall is power. As my grandmother once said, “there is nothing small about the women in our family.” We may not be petite, but we’re strong and healthy.

Side note: My husband thinks it funny that I consider myself tall. In his eyes, I’m short. Considering the average US woman is 5’6″, I personally consider myself tall. So there.

I just saw an article that sparked my interest, called “Too tall to date?” And it brought back the struggles of myself and my tall friends when we were in the dating world.

It’s a strange standard that our society has requiring that the man be taller than a woman in a relationship. I don’t agree with it, but I have to admit that I adhered to it. I was open to dating shorter men, but when I did, I felt like the Jolly Green Giant. It made me self conscious, and when someone would ask me about the guy I was dating, I could list off all of the positive attributes he had, but in my mind, I was thinking, BUT he’s short. I think due to the tall men in my family, I always found height very attractive in a man.

And boy, did I hit the Cousin Jpot when I found my 6’6″ tall husband after years of dating men shorter than me or my own height. I was thrilled when I started dating him, and immediately went out to buy 3 inch wedge heels. (OK, so I no longer wear those because I can barely walk in them, but the fact was I could wear those and not feel like the Sears Tower). I can’t tell you how thrilled I was to have to stand on tip toes to kiss him.

In my experience, though, it always seemed that tall men were attracted to short women, and that short men were attracted to tall women. It never failed when I went out with my tall girlfriends that some shorter man would come up and hit on one of us. I guess it’s a challenge for them. My theory was that God was trying to even out our offspring.

The only downside I’ve found so far to marrying a tall man is when I was pregnant with his baby, and I was scared to death about how BIG his baby would grow inside of me. I did have right to worry, as she ended up being too big for me to deliver, and I had to have a C-section.

So back to my daughter, who is greater than 100th percentile in height right now. I plan to be very positive and encouraging of her height. I want her to embrace it. I am proud of her height. And I will teach her not to worry about height as a dating standard as her own mother did. But I can’t control what society standards impose. That’s the hard part.

Whenever people comment on Little Miss’s height, they usually say, “she could be a model.” Well yes, but I personally hope not. I do hope that she’ll use it to her advantage, but that may be in sports, or perhaps even music. I don’t care to see her starve herself to be a model. Besides, if she’s anything like her mother, she’ll be “big boned”.

Back to the article that started this whole diatribe. The article lists some hurdles that tall women face:
1. Fewer men approach tall women
2. Few men meet our own height requirements
3. Once you’re dating a shorter guy, there’s a whole new host of problems (namely people comment and joke about the height difference)

I guess I’ve rambled on this topic enough. In the mean time, for you tall girls out there, stand up tall, shoulders back, and be proud of who you are.

And for those of you that are of short stature, please try to resist the urge to ask a tall person “how tall are you?!” I can’t tell you how often my hubsband hears that, or how often someone would ask one of my taller girlfriends that, but just realize that it can be a sensitive subject.

So to answer the question the article poses of “Too Tall To Date?”, I say there is no such thing. It might be more challenging, but everyone has their match.

Phew. That was a lot to spew. Any comments?

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Who knew that transitioning from a bottle to a sippy cup could be so damn complicated?! I think the transition has been hindered by Little Miss being sick, as when she’s sick, she becomes Milk Baby, and only wants that milk from a bottle.

For almost two weeks, Little Miss absolutely refused milk from the sippy. This meant many days she wasn’t drinking milk at all. It was seriously battle of the wills. But there were other days when I was weak and felt bad for my sick little girl, and I caved in to give her one bottle on those days. When I did cave in, I made sure that it wasn’t when she was pitching a fit for her bottle, as a wise mother advised me that doing so will make the fits get longer and worse. That wise mother also told me to pack the bottles away and put them in a place that would require a ladder to get them down. Good advice, but I think the weak Momma in me will wait until Little Miss isn’t sick before I do that.

It just breaks my heart when she does the sign for milk, but refuses the bottle.

Anyway, last night we had a break through. Kind of. She drank an entire sippy cup full of milk after almost two weeks of disdainfully refusing the sippy. But does it count that the sippy was a Nuby? I’m thinking it is cheating a bit. I never really wanted to try the Nuby with the soft silicone tip, but one of Little Miss’s caretakers from daycare bought one for me, saying that was what worked when she broke her son of the bottle. And honestly, all her other sippy cups were dirty last night, so I offered her the Nuby, just knowing she’d refuse, when she didn’t.

That’s my riveting update. Sorry to bore you non-parents out there. I’ll try to post something more exciting soon.

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Little Miss is still fighting off a cold, with an endless supply of snot and a cough triggering her asthma. Yet again. I have found that the most effective way to keep her still for an entire nebulizer treatment (approximately 20 minutes) is to use the TV.

Yes, the evil TV. Did you know too many babies are couch potatoes, according to the most recent study findings? Well, my baby isn’t a couch potatoe, as she only watches TV during her nebulizer treatments, but the timing of the article was uncanny.

Seriously, though, she doesn’t want to read books, play with toys, etc. when she’s on the nebulizer. For a while, I showed her Baby Einstein DVDs. But let me tell you, there are just so many times a parent can watch those without going batty. This week, I recorded Sesame Street and Teletubbies for her, and I have a few comments.

You thought that Baby Einstein was equivolent to Baby Crack?! Oh, no. These PBS shows are on a whole other level. I have always thought Elmo was the root of all evil, as a product of the giant Marketing Machine. But man, he is an INSTANT hit with her. Is it the high voice? The talking in third person? The fuzzy face? I don’t know, but I do know that Elmo gets much more of a reaction than any other of the Sesame Street characters. I figured we had a few more years before that obsession would start.

This morning, we watched Teletubbies. I am pretty sure that the creaters of this show were on a wicked acid trip when they dreamed up this venture. Seriously… Chubby little alien looking things with television screens on their bellies? They don’t speak in full sentences and the whole show is about repetition (I can’t tell you how many times that I heard “Dixie hat too small” today). It must be easy to produce with all that repetition. Then there is when the big windmill starts blowing, and all the Teletubbies say, “uh oh”, lay down, and their television screen bellies start glowing.

Huh?

Then a television clip starts on one of the bellies. The episode I watched featured two girls rollerblading. Which is fine, but then when the clip was over, all the Teletubbies looked at the television screen belly again, and said “again!”, and they showed the same 5 minute clip again.

What about the sun that has a baby face on it, and the baby is always looking down on the Teletubbies and laughing?! Scary thing is, Little Miss seemed to like this laughing sun baby.

WHERE DID YOU PEOPLE COME UP WITH THIS STUFF? And how is it so immediately appealing to kids? Little Miss could hardly contain herself, pointing at the TV, exclaiming periodically, and doing little wiggle moves when she got excited.

And when I turned those Teletubbies off this morning, woah. She grabbed the remote and started pointing it towards the TV.

BABY CRACK, PEOPLE.

I decided to record Clifford The Big Red Dog for tonight’s asthma treatment. Perhaps he won’t be as addictive and perplexing for the Momma to watch.

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Now that Little Miss is walking, our daycare is on the fast track to move her to the toddler room, perhaps in a few weeks. The toddler room only takes one nap a day, so they have been trying to get Little Miss down to one nap a day in preparation for the transition.

This isn’t going so well. She has been taking one 1 hour nap a day at daycare, and then is so exhausted when we get home that she is in bed by 6:30 pm and then sleeps a full 13 hours through the night. My girl, she’s a sleeper. I know that many parents dream of this. It has happened three times this week, and although I admit it has been nice and relaxing, I miss my baby. I haven’t had the quality time with her that I usually get.

Yesterday after work, I stopped by the library to pick up a book recommended to me by a very wise mother (Babyproofing Your Marriage). While I was there, I decided to take a look around, and I didn’t realize what a challenge that would be with my newly mobile toddler. I put Little Miss down, expecting her to toddle down the row of books I was in, and next thing I knew, she was out of sight. I found her practically running down a hallway, waving to everyone she passed (like royalty, I tell you). She then saw that I was in hot pursuit, so she SCREAMED at the top of her lungs (a happy scream at least) and started going even faster.

I was in the library for 5 minutes, and she managed to make it up and down the rows of books, talk at the top of her lungs, squeal when she found a window, and make about 20 friends. Or at least I think those people were mildly entertained by her. It’s a glimpse of what my life will be like for the next few years, I’m afraid.

When we walked to the car to leave the library, she just kept on going when I stopped to open the car door for her. I turned her around, and then she kept walking past the rear of the car. It’s like having a wind up toy that doesn’t ever stop!

That’s all the news for right now. I look forward to actually hanging out with her this weekend as she continues to catch up on sleep from a wild week at daycare.

P.S. We woke up this morning to SNOW here in Reno. Could someone please send a memo to Mother Nature that Old Man Winter needs to get the heck out of dodge?! IT IS MAY! Why couldn’t we have had this snow during ski season?! I had to struggle to find clothes today since my winter wardrobe has been packed away.

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