To Lovey or Not to Lovey

I first read the word "lovey" in one of my favorite baby books of all time, "What to Expect the First Year" by Heidi Murkoff (most people have read her other one, "What to Expect When You're Expecting").

What is a "lovey"?

Image from here

Basically, a lovey is some sort of stuffed animal or blanket that acts as a security object.  Even if your child is in an unfamiliar place, they feel comforted by the presence of their "lovey."

I'll never . . .  

I'm a little embarrassed to admit how much I used to judge parents.  I must have said "When I'm a parent, I'll never . . ." at least a million times (in my head, of course!).  And then, of course, I found myself doing the exact same thing I was sure I'd never do.  The lovey is a prime example.  I never wanted Kate to have one because I didn't want it to be a big issue if it ever got lost, or damaged and I didn't want to go through the hassle of "detaching" Kate from it.  

Giving In

But several months after saying "I'll never," Kate went through a stage of screaming every time I put her down for a nap or bed.  I found myself desperate.  And, on a whim, I grabbed her little bunny, put it in the crib, and asked, "Kate, do you want to go night-night with bunny?"  All of the sudden Kate was wriggling out of my arms, trying to get in her crib.  And it was so nice.

Besides that, I found that she slept a lot better in her pack 'n play when we weren't at home if she had her blanky (yes, now we have two loveys!) and bunny.

Sigh 

So, here I am, breaking the rules I set for myself because they make Kate happy for now.  And that's what motherhood is often about - surviving the now.

Any thoughts on giving your child a lovey?

Side note: The book also recommends having a duplicate lovey - you know, just in case you lose one, as with my fear.

 

Me vs. The Bottle

Image from here

About 4 months ago it was round one of me vs. the bottle.  The battle was trying to get Kate to take it as I weaned her from breastfeeding.  And since Kate was born quite strong-willed, it was no easy task.  It took about 5 straight days of crying, screaming, and tantrums before she took the bottle happily and recognized it as her new food source.  After those 5 days, I emerged from the boxing ring victorious.

Now she's been happily taking the bottle for over 4 months . . . and Kate's not very happy about giving it up.  So, once more, so once again I'm stepping into the ring.  Only this time she's older, and even more strong willed.  And I'm not even sure where to start.  Do I do the change gradually?  Do we try it cold turkey?  And how does the change from formula to whole milk fit into this whole picture?  Which change do I make first?

The moral of the story is this:  I'm not ready for a one-year-old!  I need to read more and talk to more experienced mothers.  So if you're reading this, I'd greatly appreciate your help!  Throw in your 2 cents! :)

Decision Through Indecision

I've been approaching one of the largest dilemmas a parent will face:

What to do for the first birthday party.

Image from pro-party.com

Do I do just a family party?

A party with neighborhood friends?

How about Kate's other friends?

One big combined party?

And, well, you can see the pressure I'm under.

So let me explain the long and extenuating circumstances under which I made my decision.

Days kept on going and going and going by, and I realized I still hadn't sent out invitations.

And then, Dave told me he was going on a business trip and asked me if Kate and I wanted to join him.

I said yes.

And voila!  The decision was made.

We don't get home until Friday night, and Kate's birthday is on Saturday - the day of Kate's family party.

So the decision is:

Only a family party this year and not a friend party.

Maybe I'm a bad mom, but I figure that Kate won't remember anyway . . . I'd rather do a fun friend party when she's two or three when she'll be more aware and more likely to remember.

Oh, the pressure of being a mother.

:)

The moral of the story is: if you put off making a decision, you won't have to make one at all.

One of "Those" Days

Let me explain . . .


What happens when I'm sleep-deprived for several nights in a row?

I hear Kate crying and automatically assume it must be morning.  I get her up and turn on all the lights only to find out it's 1:30 am.  Sorry Kate.

What happens when I'm taking a few minutes to blog while Kate is playing in her room and I don't hear anything for 5 minutes?

This.

And this.

And that.

If you can read what her PJs say . . . "Mommy makes me happy"

{the fine print says, "but sometimes I don't make her happy" :) I'm joking}

Clean up was beastly.  Kate had covered herself, the floor, our big rocking chair, and the bunny she sleeps with every night.  He seemed to have recovered quite nicely:

Our floor, not so much.  The whole point of Desitin is to resist wetness so your baby's bum won't get a rash.  Apparently it resists all types of wetness.  Anyone know how to get Desitin out of carpet?

What happens when you have a stupid water heater?

You take a really cold shower. 

What happens when my day is going like this?

I eat chocolate.

And not just two pieces.

Luckily, Kate was a gem the rest of the day.  She was happy when we went and visited some cousins.  She took a good nap in the afternoon so mom could catch up on some shut eye.  And she was very good-natured at the grocery store . . . good thing, too, because this is where my day took a turn for the worse.

It was a trip to Target, to pick up everything from dinner and lunches to a scarf for me and new socks for Kate.  Basically, I felt like we had walked every inch of the store by the time we got up to the check-out line.  We waited our turn, and then finally we made it to the front!  The lady had rung up about 75% of our stuff when I reached in my purse to grab my wallet.  Not there.  I fished around and around, starting to feel desperate.  I started to panic, and finally told our cashier that I was sorry, but I didn't have my wallet.  I was almost 100% sure that it was in my purse when we came in, which means that it was probably stolen.  I head out to our car, just to check. 

Oh yeah, I gave it to Kate on the way up to the cousins to keep her entertained.  I run back in the store and ask where my groceries are.  And then I'm informed that they've just been put away.  Curse you, Target!  Why do you have to be so disgustingly efficient?

At this point I almost started crying.

Image from clipartheaven.com

But I didn't.  I held it together.  I went back and grabbed the three things we needed for dinner that night, and then we checked out and left.

And then a dinner I make all the time (and is usually delicious) didn't turn out.  

But it's all okay . . . because at the end of the day, I have two people that mean the world to me.

I love them, and they love me.  So I can take on any more of "those" days that are thrown at me.

I tucked Kate into bed and she snuggled into her {no longer} Desitin covered bunny.

A few hours later I was awakened to her screaming and a blowout diaper.

I hope you're all having a good day!

To Bathe or Not to Bathe?

Every kid needs a nighttime ritual, something that helps them know when it is time for bed. Dave still scoffs, but we give Kate a bath every night after dinner.  He swears that no baby needs a bath everyday . . . and that he won't be a part of the ritual if I insist on continuing the tradition with our next child.  I'm still trying to help him understand that the point is the routine - not the cleanliness, although since Kate is eating more solid foods, cleanliness is becoming part of the point.

To be honest, I love it.  Once Kate has had her bath, she knows it's jammies, bottle, song, and prayer, and then time for bed.  Plus, she loves the bath - so even if she's been cranky, the bath makes her happy before we put her down for the night.

I will admit that some nights it is a pain.  Some nights when I'm tired, I've been splattered in peas (green is just not my color), and I can't even remember if I had a chance to brush my teeth that day, I feel more like stepping on the rubber duckie than gently squeezing him to squirt water at Kate.  But to me, the pros outweigh the cons.  Maybe I'll feel differently when I have two children to put to bed?  Not sure yet.  Obviously.  I mean, I don't have two children.  Maybe I should borrow a second child for a few days to test things out . . . :)

Here's one other thing that I do with Kate sometimes before I put her down for a nap.  We listen to this song, it's called "Slumber My Darling" by Stephen Foster and it is so SWEET!  I love the words and it calming and soothing.  Sometimes I even sing it to Kate myself (although I'm not sure it's relaxing to Kate to hear my voice . . .).

 

Any thoughts on the bedtime ritual?  What works for you?  What seems to help?  Bath . . . or no bath?

Sometimes You Learn the Hard Way

Note: the above is not an actual picture of Kate

Sometimes, ha!  Most of the time I learn the hard way.  Take for example, the visit Kate and I paid the doctor this week.  Last week Kate came down with a lot of congestion - an endlessly runny/stuffy nose - but no coughing.  She was cranky and clingy and cried whenever I'd give her a bottle.  I thought she must have a bad cold.  Then she started rubbing her ears.  I turned to my book of wisdom, What to Expect the First Year, and concluded she must have an ear infection.  I decided to take her in to see a doctor.

He listened to her breathing.  He cleaned out her ears and checked them carefully.  Nothing.  Then he looked in her throat.  Did he see any redness or swelling back there?  No.  What he did see, while Kate was trying to bite him, was that she was getting two more teeth.  The ones next to the top front teeth.  Aaaagh!  I am officially one of those moms that doctors complain about, who bring their kid in when they aren't really sick!  And in all honesty, I considered the possibility, but her top two teeth came in a little over two weeks ago,and  I thought it was impossible.  And to his credit, Dave thought she might be teething.  But do I listen?  No, I like taking Kate into the doctor, without even bothering to glance at the possibility of new teeth.  I like throwing cash at doctors who tell me to just give her a little tylenol and some baby orajel.  I like learning the hard way.