You are here: Home / Archives for Christina
Jun 20, 2007

First Day

June 20, 2007 By

I haven’t mentioned it much here, but a few weeks ago we enrolled Cordy in a daycare/preschool program for the summer. It’ll be good for her, and I need the time with only one child around. Today was her first day of school.

Cordy needed this, too. While she is an intelligent little girl, perhaps even advanced for her age, she is lacking in social skills and emotional maturity. I put some of the blame on myself for not taking more initiative in getting her out to play with other kids more often. But it’s more than that – she’s always been a loner, interested in her own world more than getting to know others.

I have actually considered having Cordy evaluated for developmental delays, but haven’t been able to fully commit to that decision. Every time I start to think she may have something wrong, she will suddenly prove me wrong. At the very least, she needs to improve in a few areas. She has trouble following another child’s suggestion of play. She lacks some basic skills, like using eating utensils or drinking out of a cup. Her speech is very good, but much of the time she’s only parroting back things she’s heard on TV. She can carry on both sides of a conversation between Dora and Boots, but can’t answer you if you ask her if she had fun today. (She will often answer any question by repeating the last word you said.)

This particular preschool has Aaron’s aunt as one of the administrators, so we know Cordy will be closely watched. And his aunt has told me that she will let us know if she thinks Cordy might have any developmental problems needing intervention. Cordy will be attending two days a week in the 2 year old room.

Today being her first day, we tried to explain what fun she was going to have, but she didn’t seem to comprehend what was coming. Here she was before we left:


We were dreading the drop-off, thinking that Cordy would freak out when we tried to leave. She was hesitant to come into the room, but the teachers took the other kids outside so she could adjust to the room on her own, and she was soon exploring the layout. Then she saw the classroom fish tank, and suddenly she was right at home. “Fish!” she exclaimed. The remaining teacher offered to let her feed the fish, and she was in heaven.

I gave her a hug, telling her I was leaving, and fully expected her to cry. But instead she hugged me and said, “Look! Fish!” “Yes, I see the fish. I’m leaving now, enjoy the fish.” And she didn’t care at all that I left.

“That was too easy,” I told Aaron as we left.

I knew it couldn’t stay that easy. You know how many people give teachers a gift at the end of the year? I wondered if we should have brought gifts for the teachers today. A gift for you, for the enormous task you are about to undertake…

I called later in the day to find out how she was doing. The teacher started out by saying, “She’s a child who prefers to do things her own way, isn’t she?” Oh hell. “Yes, yes she is,” I replied.

Turns out it was a rough morning. Cordy did very well playing outside on the playground and during swimtime, but transitions were tough. She also had trouble staying in her seat at snacktime, but then again, she’s never had to do that before. She refused to eat because she wouldn’t use a spoon or fork – they did give in and feed her a little to make sure she ate a little. She also refused to drink from her sippy at snacktime because it had water in it. Lunchtime was better, though, so hopefully she will learn quickly.

Naptime was also a little difficult because she won’t nap if others are in the room with her. Keeping her on her cot was a challenge at first, but they said she eventually complied, although she talked to herself the entire time, sometimes too loudly.

They said during free play in the classroom, she chose not to play with the other kids, but instead roam the room on her own. They’ll keep an eye on this to see if it continues, or if she’ll eventually want to play with the other kids.

There was good news, too. In the afternoon she listened to her teachers better than the morning. She handled diaper changes well. They also said she’s very smart, identifying colors and numbers and some letters. The teacher I spoke with said that for a first day, she did pretty well.

Aaron and I picked her up around 4pm. When she saw me, she jumped up out of her chair, saying “Mommy! You found me!” Then she saw Aaron and went back and forth between us, saying “Mommy! Daddy! Mommy! Daddy!” She quickly walked over to her backpack, indicating that she wanted us to get her out of there as fast as possible.

She looked a little rougher at the end of the day. More bruises on her legs, a scrape on her knee, and red, tired looking eyes. But she was happy.

Friday will probably be tougher for her. She’ll know we’re leaving her again, so drop-off may involve tears that the fish tank can’t prevent. But I think this will be a good experience for her, learning to interact in a group setting, being around kids her own age, and learning to follow rules other than our own. I hope that her social skills will blossom and any fears I have of something being wrong will vanish. And if that’s not possible, I hope this will be a good first step towards getting her what she needs to catch up to her peers.

Filed Under: Cordy, growing up Tagged With:


Jun 18, 2007

Sleepless Nights (Not The Baby)

June 18, 2007 By

While Mira does seem to have colic, at least she’s sleeping her long stretches at night. She generally gives us a three or four hour stretch starting at midnight, and then wake again a couple of hours later and nurse on and off in bed until 8am. (The good news – I seem to have enough milk for her now.)

This makes me very happy, because I’ve never been one to handle sleep deprivation well. If I’m ever interrogated by the government or terrorists, they will be able to break me after one night of no sleep. While Aaron often lives on only five hours of sleep a night, I prefer eight hours to function at peak performance. Of course, I have a newborn, so I’m lucky to get five or six hours, but that’s generally enough to keep me upright, if a little fuzzy headed.

So you can imagine how I feel when I tell you that last night I got about an hour of sleep all night. And that wasn’t a consecutive hour, either. Baby crying? Nope. Toddler with nightmares? Nope. Loud block party? Nope.

It was the damn smoke detectors.

I swear these things are possessed. I’ve written about them before and the torture they’ve caused. The detectors never have any problems during the day. They sit and wait until nighttime, when everyone is sleeping, to sound off and drive us insane.

But earlier episodes were nothing like last night. Because it wasn’t the low-battery chirping sound keeping us awake. It was the alarm going off full-blast for 5-10 seconds, at random intervals ranging from 5 minutes to one hour. All. Night. Long.

The first alarm had me jumping out of bed, startled and confused and worried. I wondered if something was overheating in the house, so I conducted a top to bottom search, checking each room and sniffing for any hint of smoke or anything burning. Satisfied that there was no fire, I went back to bed, only to be jolted awake by another alarm a few minutes after I fell asleep.

Cordy slept through the first few alarms. But it couldn’t last forever, and soon we heard the soft cries coming over the monitor. Aaron went into her room to comfort her and get her back to sleep, while I got dressed and left the house at 3am to find batteries, hoping that it was a battery problem.

Finding batteries at 3am is not easy. I first went to a gas station, only to be told they were “temporarily closed”. So I drove a little more to the grocery store, but found they closed at 1am. Bastards. I drove a little further to my last chance: Wal-Mart. Folks, you think Wal-Mart is scary during the day? You should see it at 3am. I’ve never seen so many people with missing teeth in one place.

Batteries in hand, I returned home to find a crying Mira. I fed her while Aaron changed batteries. We thought that would be the end of things, but close to 4am the alarm sounded again. Taking the batteries out completely wouldn’t silence them – the smoke detectors are interconnected in the electrical system, and the batteries are just a backup. So we went to the source of the problem, and shut off the circuit. This left the batteries still in, so the alarms continued off and on through the morning.

Today, drunk on a lack of sleep, I stumbled around the house slowly removing batteries from each detector, waiting to see if that particular round plastic demon was the faulty one. Each time the alarm shrieked, Cordy dove onto the couch and pulled pillows and blankets over her head to hide from it. To make the day worse, Mira was awake and crying much of the afternoon as well, so there was no rest to be had.

The alarms are now silenced, only because we have turned off the circuit and pulled all the batteries out. Tomorrow I’ll be looking for a fire alarm repair company to come out and fix the problem. I may ask them to completely replace the damn detectors just to end having their beady little green LED lights staring at me, waiting to attack again.

In the meantime, I hope Mira sleeps well tonight, because mommy needs sleep.

Filed Under: fate laughing at me, rant


Jun 17, 2007

Father’s Day

June 17, 2007 By

Before I had a child, Father’s Day was never a big deal to me. My own father and I have a strained relationship, and we have never been close. My parents divorced when I was a baby, and my father, when he did bother to use his visitation rights, never made any effort to begin to understand me. He expected me to be someone I wasn’t, and I resented this man who was practically a stranger to me telling me what to do.

As a child, I wanted a dad around, and was jealous of my friends who had cool dads – dads that were there for them. As a teen, though, I came to terms with my situation, and often felt I didn’t need a dad in my life, since my mom did a great job on her own.

Father’s Day was just another day. No big deal. To my younger self, a dad was simply an extra person in the house – nice to have around, but not really needed.

Fast forward to now. I can’t imagine raising these two girls without Aaron. Watching Cordy run up to her daddy, begging him to tickle her, then squealing in laughter as he does what she asks, gives me such a warm fuzzy feeling. She adores him. He is her personal amusement park: tickle machine, bouncy knee, rocket ship, airplane. When he leaves in the morning for work, she grabs his leg and begs him not to leave.

Mira is too young to show this kind of adoration for her father, but I still think she is fond of him. When he would talk to her in my belly, she would wake up and squirm around. Moments after she was born, as she laid on my chest, Aaron spoke to her. On hearing his voice, her eyes opened wide and she turned to look at him.

Aaron is a great dad, and is an active partner in parenting. He changes diapers, he supervises bath time, he makes dinner, he gets up with Cordy in the mornings (they’re both early risers), he wears Mira in the baby sling, and he gives me a break when possible. If I had to do this job on my own, or with a husband who refused to do his share, I think I would have a breakdown. In addition, he’s been forced to move many of his long-term theatre career plans to the back burner in order to support our family, but rarely complains about it.

And as the girls grow older, I know they will need him even more. While I grew up without an active father and turned out fine (well, I think I turned out OK), I know they will depend on Aaron as much as they depend on me. Aaron can do more physical games than I can, and he has a wealth of knowledge to pass on. Also, dads can answer questions that moms can’t. I wouldn’t know how to answer if asked about boys – I’ve never understood boys, myself.

So yeah, I’m really thankful to have Aaron as the father of our children. I had once thought that a dad wasn’t needed, but it turns out I was wrong: kids don’t need just any dad, they need a good dad.

Happy Father’s Day, dear.

Filed Under: Aaron


Jun 15, 2007

There’s No Such Thing As Cosmic Balance

June 15, 2007 By

A good friend just had her baby on June 1. We were amazed when we found out we were both pregnant and due close to the same time. She called the other day to catch up and we compared notes on our new little girls.

Her first born was what we called “the floor model”, meaning he was the child that would make other people say, “Oh, having a baby wouldn’t be bad at all – let’s do it!” (We also called him the “bait and switch” child.) He was, and still is for the most part, the easiest baby in the world. He slept a lot, sat quietly awake, rarely cried, slept through the night, etc. My friend and her husband were actually scared to have another baby, thinking that if they already had an angel of a baby, the next would be a devil.

Cordy, on the other hand, was an unhappy baby that could have scared others away from having children. With reflux, colic, and a general pissed off attitude at the world, she didn’t become pleasant to be with until she was close to four months old. I’m not trying to be mean when I say that – she really was an angry baby. The more independent she became, as she learned to sit up, crawl, and walk, the happier she was.

So of course when my friend and I talked before our second babies were born, we joked that now I would be getting my reward in an easier baby, and she would be getting a demon child this time. Cosmic balance, right?

Talking to her this week, though, it seems our kids missed the memo on how they should act.

“Oh, she’s wonderful!” she told me. “She’s only waking once a night, and she’s usually happy to just sit in her bouncy seat and look around quietly. Sounds like Mira isn’t quite as content.”

She said this as I was trying to shush a screaming baby while talking on the phone. Yes, Mira is not quite the easy baby I was hoping for. Based on the past few nights, I think she may have colic. We’ve had three days in a row now where she has cried non-stop for over three hours. Nothing makes her happy during those times – walking, rocking, the boob, laying on the floor, making promises to buy her pony, etc.

Thankfully she doesn’t have reflux like Cordy did. Her GI problems seem to be focused more on the lower tract, as she may be the gassiest baby ever. I may try cutting out all dairy to see if that’s what is bothering her. The thought of no dairy is depressing, but I know others have cut out even more foods for their kids.

It feels so unfair to have another fussy baby. However, it doesn’t last forever, so we will just have to get through it. Although right now it seems that Mira has some kind of sixth-sense, knowing the exact point I open my laptop computer, and waiting until that point to start crying. That could be hard to work around.

Filed Under: fate laughing at me, Mira


Jun 12, 2007

Got Milk?

June 12, 2007 By

When Cordy was born, I was determined to breastfeed. My daughter, however, wasn’t so interested in the idea. Our first two days in the hospital were filled with frustration, as I would try to get her to eat and she would resist. She would latch on at first, then realize she wasn’t getting much (it was still colostrum at that point), let go and scream. Repeat every half hour. Even the lactation consultant was no help.

Our third night in the hospital, the staff checked her blood sugar levels and told me her levels were low. Whether I wanted it or not, she was getting a bottle. The look on her little newborn face when offered the bottle was one of surprise and glee. After all, this was easy! The liquid just flowed into her mouth without any effort! It was at that point, I realized we had lost the battle, as my lazy child decided that the easy way was the way to go.

I continued to fight with breastfeeding for the next four months before giving up entirely. She would make a half-hearted attempt at breastfeeding, and then I would follow up with a bottle of formula or pumped milk afterwards. By the time I was back at work, she was mostly on formula.

With Mira, I hoped things would be different, and in many ways, they are. Thanks to the VBAC, she was able to breastfeed minutes after birth, and I was thrilled that she latched on like a pro. But when we got home, her appetite seemed to be endless, and I couldn’t keep up with her. We had to supplement, an act that gave me flashbacks of Cordy and her lazy eating. However, Mira doesn’t seem to care where it’s coming from, as long as there is food. She has no problem going back and forth between bottle and breast.

But I didn’t want to go down the formula route again. It’s expensive, it stinks, and it’s a pain to prepare. So after consulting with my doula and pediatrician (Mira isn’t gaining weight like she should, so the ped is involved now), I’m now trying to increase my milk supply to satisfy my bottomless pit.

What’s involved in this? Well, my pediatrician suggested beer to help with supply issues. I always thought that to be an old-wives tale, but she said she’s seen it work. OK, I can drink a beer. No problem.

Then there’s the herbal solution. An herb called Fenugreek can help increase supply. This is the herb used to flavor artificial maple syrup. Much like garlic, when you take large amounts of it, it has the not-so-pleasant side-effect of scenting your sweat and urine. Which means that my sweat now smells like maple syrup. And my breath smells like beer. All I need at this point is some cigarette smoke and you could have a truck stop IHOP sensory experience in my presence.

It seems to be working so far. I hope that my supply will catch up to her demand soon, because after dealing with a baby who wanted nothing to do with my breasts, it’s frustrating to see her so eager to breastfeed and worry I don’t have enough for her.

Filed Under: being a mom, Mira