Saturday morning bei uns

Scenes from a Saturday morning:

So he likes the new bumpers

Apparently they make a good place to rest his feet while he's sleeping:

Brain freeze?

Having a glut of milk, and being convinced (still) that Jakob must be teething, I decided to make Momsicles. I used soothers for the handle/stick (as in a popsicle), and a Medela bottle cap as the mold.

A few days ago when his gums seemed sensitive, I offered him one. After just a slurp or two, he started to wail. Over time, I've tried again a couple more times, always with the same response.

He also doesn't seem too fond of chilled teething rings. Maybe he gets an ice cream headache?

I told you so

Not literally (at least in most cases), but that's the spirit, anyway.

I've heard that some mothers use the Bumbo seat on counters, tables, even chairs. Not something I'm willing to even consider. Jakob sits in his Bumbo only on the floor. Full stop, no discussion.

And yesterday he fell out of it.

Since he didn't have far to go, he was fine. But if he'd been on any of these raised surfaces, it would have been a different story.

I knew I was doing right.

Das Gummibärchen

Jakob is closing in on 7 months, and still (luckily for me) has no teeth. For a couple of months now, I've been thinking, "they've got to be coming!" especially on the days when he's fussy and nothing will help. But, alas, still a gummy bear.

Lately, he's been chewing even more. And hard! He likes to gnaw on my knuckles, and it actually really hurts me. He likes to bite on a hard plastic Baby Einstein spoon, or on his baby toothbrush. Werner thinks he can see two bumps appearing where the front lower teeth will be, but any time I try to sneak a peek, Jakob sticks out his tongue and blocks my view.

I suppose, though, I will be the first to know. Ouch for us both.

Bana-nana

This morning - bananas!

I bought medium-sized organic bananas, and this morning cut off a third of banana and mashed it for Jakob. He loved it. Not even the "what is this stuff" face. So I cut off another third, and he gulped that down, too. In the end, he ate the entire banana, and I think he would have eaten even more, had I offered.

This is just too much fun

Splash splash!

Jakob is following in his father's flippers!

All we are saying

Is give peas a chance.

Jakob doesn't seem to like peas. With all the foods we've introduced, he's pulled a face ("What is this stuff?") with the first taste, sometimes the second. With peas, it hasn't stopped. And, he won't even try to swallow.

On to something else, I guess. We'll try again later.


Update! I blended the peas with green beans, and then he gobbled them up.

The lesser of two evils

Having been persuaded by what had read in books and been told at our prenatal classes, we did not purchase bumpers for Jakob's crib. For the longest time, there didn't seem to be any need; afterall, he stayed where we put him. And besides, it seemed to me that they'd just make sheet changes more cumbersome.

Since our trip to Europe, Jakob has become much more squirmy. He wriggles in his crib and had started sticking limbs between the slats. Yesterday morning, he got himself well and truly trapped, having squeezed a leg through the slat and against the wall. That was the last straw.

Off to TJs we went. Mesh bumpers are now installed on his crib.

First fruit

Applesauce is a hit!

Quadruped

At Tuesday's mom/baby drop-in, Jakob and I sat on the floor mats so he could practise his sitting. For a while, I put him on his belly, too. Over the last couple of weeks, he's been backing up when on his belly, but this time he couldn't go far because I had hemmed him in with my legs. As he kept pushing, he went up on his hands and knees. Torso off the ground!

Won't be long now before he's crawling. I type this while shuddering with worry.

The right decision

Whatever my misgivings, however much I miss thinking, however much I'd like to have conversations that don't involve poop or breastmilk or spit-up, regardless of the impact on my career or identity as a one-time academic, today I realised just how right it is that I'm staying home with Jakob.

The park where I nursed him backed onto a daycare. Two groups from the daycare came into the park. One of the groups included kids not much older than Jakob. One was being carried in a sling, others could barely walk. Given the staff-child ratio, even the youngest children had only minimal attention. One little one, who clearly had only recently taken her first steps, stumbled and fell; the staff member who'd been holding her hand yanked her up by that one hand and continued on.

That's when I was sure that I don't want little Jakob being raised in a herd. I can't do this all on my own (and heaven knows I need breaks), but I can't really bear the thought of sending him to a daycare where he'll get only the bare minimum of attention and care.

As I sat there, I got out my cell phone and called Werner. I had to thank him for making it possible for me to stay home with our son.

He wants to grow up

While we were out today, Jakob, of course, got hungry. I found a bench in a park and he had a picnic. There was a playground in the park, and Jakob was especially curious about that. He looked longingly at the swings and the 'big kids' playing. I honestly felt like he was wishing he could play with them...

He really will be grown up before I realise it, won't he?

Bugaboo Central

Yes, I'm still astonished that we're trendy. And I'm almost as embarrassed that, because I'm so self-conscious of the unusual experience of being trendy, I do notice other Bugaboos.

And today, desperate for a change in scenery and eager to feel the rare sunshine, I took Jakob for a walk in Yaletown. Just on the way there, we passed by 5 or 6 Bugs (one was 'wearing' the same diaper bag as we have). It seemed that in Yaletown itself, everywhere I turned there was a Bug. The density of Bugaboos per square kilometre must be at least equal to that of Kits. (Granted, the population density is much higher in Yaletown.)

There's also a new store in Yaletown that sells stuff for babies and for the home. (Strange combination, I thought, but I guess they're trying to cover all their bases. They even have a hanging pod-type chair similar to those at Fraport.) The only stroller in the store is the Bugaboo. And wouldn't you know it, Bugaboo has come out with even more options for the Cameleon, including a special-edition denim option for the tailored bits of the stroller. There are two new options we're thinking of getting (and, unlike most Bugaboo accessories, the cost isn't outrageous): the 'breezy canopy' and the sunshade. Gotta keep Jakob safe from nasty UV rays!

Feverish

Yesterday, Jakob spiked a fever of 38.1^oC. We had been to the cinema, and it was warm in there. I was too warm, and I thought he was too, even though he was dressed fairly lightly. When we got home, though, he was still hot to the touch, and I immediately took his temperature. When I got that reading, I promptly gave him a dose of baby Tylenol and called the newborn hotline. The nurse said that over 38 is cause for concern (above 38 and an infant may have febrile seizures), but as long as the Tylenol reduced his temperature and it didn't persist for more than a day or so, he'd be fine.

The Tylenol worked, his temperature started to come down within an hour. We gave him more four hours later, by which time the fever was gone and we wanted to make sure it was really gone. Thankfully.

He sure gave us a scare.

Eat your greens, Little Bear

Green beans for breakfast? Yup, that's what was on Jakob's menu this morning.

I braced for the worst. I did get the, "What is this stuff you just put in my mouth?" look, but then he decided he actually liked the taste and eagerly gulped down the rest.


Tonight, he'll be getting two cubes!

(Bad news for me, though. This is the first non-beige food that he's ever eaten. What colour clothing will I need to wear to camoflage his spit-up from now on?)

Opportunistic Bärchen takes a bath in the big tub

Jakob's getting too big for his infant bathtub. He likes to splash now and makes a mighty mess. On the other hand, although he can sit up unsupported, he's not entirely steady, and he's very squirmy, all of which makes bathing him in a real bathtub a bit daunting.

The answer? Taking a bath with him.

This morning, I got in the tub and Werner handed Jakob in to me. He sure enjoyed the deeper water and had a good splash!

And - sneaky bear that he is - he suddenly squirmed around and helped himself to a snack.

Warm water and warm milk - how much better can it get for a 6 month old?

I'll have a little cheese with this whine

This really has nothing to do with babies or motherhood.

Why don't people read??

We're looking for someone to rent out our home. We were late getting the word out, and have had some replies, but several have come out of left field. For instance, one person offered to pay 2/3 of what we're asking¹, for his "small family of 5"². Someone else apparently didn't read that we're looking for someone to rent for a year (and minimum of 9 months) and wants to rent for just two. And the latest response, from someone describing herself as a professional, was littered with hideous 'chatspeak' ("Coz", "u", and "pix") and slang ("gonna"); the person also apparently didn't read the advert ("Is it furnished?") and wants to know what floor our condo is on and whether the building has a pool, lobby and gym.

Read, people!!


¹ We are absolutely willing to lower the rent for someone we know and trust or is personally recommended by someone we know and trust.

² What would he define as a big family??

A new record

One morning last week, I pumped 410 ml, breaking the previous record of 400 ml, recorded on a Saturday afternoon in November.

Mooooo.

But he has to like potatoes!

Jakob is half German and half Newfoundlander. Potatoes are a part of his genetic make-up.

Why then doesn't he seem to like them? When he had his first taste, he gave me a look that said, "I'm not so sure about this". And it went downhill from there.

Homemade mashed potatoes, blended with breastmilk. Sure, I didn't grow the potatoes myself, but other than that I did make them.

{sigh}

The first taste of my cooking, and he cries. Can I say how disappointed I am?

Groundhog day

I don't mean the date, I'm referencing the movie. You know, where Bill Murray's character is caught in an endless loop, having to relive Groundhog Day over and over again until he gets it right.

I know the feeling.

When I was writing my thesis, the hardest part for me was the repetition. Every single day, I got up in the morning, ate breakfast, wrote, ate lunch, wrote, ate supper, wrote, went to bed. Sure, that was broken up a bit with trips to the office to print or go to a seminar, grocery runs, and throwing out the garbage, but the basic structure of my days never changed. That's why I even stopped keeping a journal - I bored myself with it.

Motherhood, it seems, is no less quotidien. I feed the baby, wipe up the baby's spit, change the baby, wipe up the baby's spit. Lather, rinse, repeat.

This morning, just lifting Jakob from his crib to the change table, he pulled my hair, pinched me, and spat up on me.

I wake up in the morning and think, "Here we go again". My day is shaped out before it even begins. While writing my thesis, I continued my subscription to the Globe and Mail so I could always check the date, even when the days ran together; now I don't even get a chance to look at the paper. Some people take comfort in routine and predictability, I guess, and to the extent that now I can more or less predict when I'll have to feed Jakob, I do too. But the routineness (is that a word? I used to have a good vocabulary...) is draining. There isn't much space left in the day for innovation.

Shit (literally)

Jakob is still in the Baby Bjorn. I am just about to check the mail.

And while I've been typing the last entry, I started to smell and feel evidence that the diaper has got to go.

In the Bjorn, this means a blow-out at least 97% of the time.

Maybe I should just take him to visit his Papa. I'm really not in the mood for this.

So why exactly is this my problem?

The phone just rang. Jakob (strapped to me in his Baby Bjorn) and I got to it moments after the machine picked up. Someone calling to remind me about the appointment for his immunisation tomorrow.

Huh?

I tried reasoning with the woman on the other end of the line.

Me: "He had his 6-month shots on March 29."
Her: "So call Marilyn and cancel."
Me: "No, what I'm saying is he has had all his shots. There never was an appointment for tomorrow. I don't have an appointment to cancel because I never made an appointment."
Her: "I'm just the switchboard operator. Call Marilyn yourself and cancel."
Me: "I don't even know who Marilyn is! I also don't have a free hand to get a pen and paper. If you're in the same building as her, why can't you tell her?"

That's when I realised she'd hung up on me.

Why am I responsible for cancelling an appointment I never made?

Yeah, I'll just add that to my never-shrinking To-Do list.

Beep beep beep

Remember I worried that Bärchen would want to be an alarm clock when he grew up because of all the construction trucks beeping while backing up? Well, being half German, he is pretty predictable and timely in the morning, so maybe I was on to something. But what I hadn't counted on is that he'd go backwards.

Yes, when I put him on his belly, he backs up. I have to watch to make sure he doesn't wiggle his way under the couch or other furniture. He isn't crawling; it's more that he's trying to push up but can't get his legs under his body and so slides backwards.

Beep beep beep. The Bärchen is backing up. Beware.

Why do baby clothes have to be so darned cute?

I went shopping for baby clothes last week. I had one item from Gymboree that I realised I should have bought one size larger, and one of the suburban stores had it in the needed size. I also hoped to look for pants for Jakob, too, as he's been busily outgrowing his wardrobe.

It turned out to be a challenge to find pants. I'm learning - too late - that baby clothing stores push the seasons the same way as adult clothing stores. Gymboree is only selling shorts now, not pants, because they've got their summer line out. Maybe that makes sense in parts of the US, but we've got months yet before it will be warm enough for me to wear shorts, never mind Jakob!

I also stocked up on summer-weight sleepers and play outfits. Long as he is, many items were in the 12-18 month size range. While he fits the length range for some 6-12 month items, he wouldn't for long, and certainly not summer-weight clothes once they're needed.

I have bought many cute items for Jakob, but the choice for boys just doesn't seem as good as for girls. The Children's Place has only a tiny corner for baby boys compared with the baby girl section; Baby Gap is the same way. At The Children's Place, I found a dress that I would have wanted to wear, if I was once again a little girl:


Of course, I'd have it in blue, never pink, but I couldn't find a photo online of the gorgeous blue version. But here's the matching sweater:

Linen, crinoline, bows and a lacy collar - it was just too cute. It made me wish I was a little girl again, because this is a dress I would have loved to wear!

Ah, well, even if there's a better selection of clothes for girls than for boys, I still came home weighed down with new additions to Jakob's wardrobe.

Too soon

I've been packing away clothes that Jakob has outgrown. Each time I've done this, I'm astonished to realise how much he has grown, especially when I see the clothes I've packed away previously.

It also makes me sad, partly because he's growing so quickly and partly because I'm packing away gifts that were given to him with care. He has outgrown his first denim overalls (a gift from Ricki and Marion), the cute onesies from Helen and Michael and others from Nadia, the outfit sent by Maria and Charles and another sent by Onkle Johannes and Tante Katja. And then there are the clothes I selected for him: the onesie with the plaid collar, worn in his Christmas photo; his first corduroys; his first button-down Oxford shirt; and his second bear coat.

Tall boy that he's turning out to be, he has even outgrown a sleeper sized 9 months. Of the sleepers I've bought for him, this was one of my favourites. It had a little bear on the chest, peeking out of a pocket, and striped collar and feet.

The Easter Bärchen

Jakob's first Easter was a success. Unlike Good Friday (when I guess we're all supposed to be a little out of sorts) Jakob was co-operative during church. And we were invited to share Easter dinner with Jacquie and her family, a tradition begun when I first moved out here as a student. Other than a frightening diaper change (frightening for Werner and I, that is; others were unscathed, and I think unaware too. I hope unaware.), Jakob was cheerful and content, his usual charming, flirtatious self. We ate our meal as he sat on the floor in his Bumbo, peering up at us. He enjoyed cuddles from Sylvia and Sandy and did well until just after dessert, when he let us know it was his bedtime. We owe an apology for not being able to stay at help with the clean-up, having made hasty exit to get our tired baby home and into his crib. Sent home with ham and coloured eggs, we were set for a couple meals, too!

So we could have slept in?

Jakob slept through 'til 9:25 this morning. He was hungry at 5, as usual, but slept through from there.

I, however, still woke up at 7, expecting him to be awake by 7:30.

{sigh}

I'm beginning to think we should leave Jakob where he is...

Both Werner and I have fallen on the stairs today. I went first, catching my right big toe in the cuff of the left leg of my pyjama pants. I stumbled up the stairs, and managed to avoid dropping my irreplaceable Denby mug (and didn't spill so much as a drop of coffee, either). Later, Werner slipped as he went downstairs. He grabbed the handrail, but still got some bumps and probably a few bruises.

Today, we go to Jakob. He stays put!

Papa and Poppy will be proud!

Jakob loves oatmeal!

What do you do with a messy Bärchen?

What do you do with a messy Bärchen,
What do you do with a messy Bärchen,
What do you do with a messy Bärchen,
Er-lie in the morning?

Put him in the laundry and get him cleaned up,
Put him in the laundry and get him cleaned up,
Put him in the laundry and get him cleaned up,
Er-lie in the morning.

Since the sky didn't turn black

It was uncharacteristically sunny and even kinda warm on Good Friday, so we went for a walk:

His future's so bright, he's gotta wear shades

We have unsupported sitting!!

This afternoon, for the first time, Jakob up sat up without help!

And why do I bother?

Today, while we were at church, Jakob threw up on me. Again.

My pants were clean for all of an hour.

Why do we bother?

We've been taking to Jakob to church, but are both questioning whether that's still a good idea. Not that the problem is with going to church, per se. It's just that one or both of us ends up missing a chunk of every service. I always end up feeding Jakob, Werner often has to change him, and one or the other often has to walk with him when he starts to fuss. And, perhaps worst of all, he is most likely to be persuaded to take a nap sometime around 10:30 or 11:00 am. When we go to church, he doesn't sleep, and we end up with a cranky baby.

Maybe we need a little hiatus.

Our little secret

Shhh! Don't tell Werner!

Back to Baby Einstein

It is going to be a long long day.

Jakob's full-blown fussies began by 8:30 this morning. At 8:40, Werner rushed out the door, comandeered the car, and fled. He left me behind with the wailing infant.

To be fair, he did have legitimate reasons to run. A dentist's appointment, for one. Followed by a hair appointment. Then off to the 'burbs to pick up the part for the damn dryer blower that, by rights, we've already paid for. Since he has escaped, I've asked him to buy some cat grass (a.k.a. "Phoebesalat") and to pay in person for a "Mother Goose" programme in which I've enrolled Jakob and I.

{sigh}

I need a hair cut, too (my salon was damaged by fire, but my stylist has set up temporary shop), but when can I get away to do that? My last haircut was in January, and that was the first since July of last year. And I suppose a dentist's office isn't surprised (though probably not entirely appreciative) when a mother brings a screaming baby to her check-up, but wouldn't be so understanding of fathers doing the same.

Anyway. After 4 days of loving rice cereal and wanting more and more, today we thought we'd try barley cereal. I don't know if he was miffed that it wasn't rice cereal on the spoon or what, but I have just had my first food battle with Jakob. Full on crying and screaming with the "I hate you" face. I'd pumped this morning, so he was getting his breakfast milk in a bottle. I ended up having to give him the bottle to calm him down after only about half the cereal. Every once in a while, I pulled away the milk, shovelled in another mouthful or two of cereal, and then gave him the bottle again. Somehow, he got through both.

Still he was cranky.

I gave him gripe water. I figured, if he didn't like the taste of the barley cereal, maybe that would help clear the taste from his mouth. Come to think of it, that must have been a thought borne of desperation, because I'd already cleaned out his mouth with a washcloth, as I do every morning. (That's something he actually really enjoys, and is usually enough to pull him out of a cranky mood. No luck today.) Then, running out of ideas, I gave him some Tylenol. At 6 months, there's gotta be a tooth on the move somewhere.

So, by 9:45, I was beside myself. Wanting to at least get the dishes done, I've plopped him in his swing and switched on Baby Bach. In exchange for the high price of guilt, it will buy me a few minutes of peace.


Update: After a break, I gave Jakob a bath. He fell asleep after nursing, and napped for two hours. Werner got home, we had lunch together before he left for his office. When Jakob woke up, I nursed him and cuddled with him for a bit. Brought him upstairs for a diaper. Of he'd had a blow-out! I neither heard nor smelled the poop. And as I was cleaning up, he threw up and soaked me, so I had to change, too. And the day still isn't over...

I'm tired of fighting the good fight

I'm exhausted by Jakob's disdain for naps. Finally, at last, just as I caught myself considering duct-taping him into place in his crib to keep him from squirming about, he has fallen asleep. Once I put him down for the nap, I started a load of laundry. A 57 minute load. He fell asleep as the cycle finished.

He fell asleep on his belly. I'd much rather he sleep on his back, or even his side, but I'm afraid that, if I flip him over (yet again) he'll wake up.

And I just can't do this all over again.

Update: He slept a few minutes, then woke up screaming. Later, he fell asleep after nursing. I was petrified of moving once he'd done so, and was pinned down for an hour or two.

Not quite as in my fantasy...

I have a recurrent fantasy: that I get two days off. On the first day, I'm whisked off to enjoy something by myself. (Spa? Lunch? Guilt-free shopping? Matinee? To be perfectly honest, I don't even know anymore what might make me happy, what I might enjoy.) While I'm out, the house is cleaned from top to bottom by professional cleaners. Walls scrubbed, windows cleaned, light-fixtures dusted, appliances moved out and cleaned on all sides, plus the usual chores (vacuuming, dusting, toilet scrubbing, and the like). The following day, I'm left home alone to enjoy the clean house. Just me and Phoebe. With everything in order, I can relax. No guilt, no jumping up to clean or organise. Just rest and rejuvenate. Read a book, watch a movie, have a Phoebe snuggle...

This little dream has been visiting me nearly daily for the last several months. I know it will never be more than a dream, but it is an awfully nice one.

On Friday evening, I asked one favour of Werner for the weekend: that he take Jakob out for a few hours so I could clean. And this he did this afternoon. I did laundry, washed the floors (he vacuumed yesterday), dusted (took an antihistamine first - it had gotten so bad that I allergic to our home), made applesauce, and dealt with some clutter. I didn't get through all the clutter, I didn't finish the laundry, and I haven't dusted Jakob's room or the office. Phoebe is still woefully neglected. I didn't read a book or rest for more than a minute or two.

But I'm slightly less embarrassed by the state of our house.

(Only slightly.)