Click Me!

Has anyone seen this? I can't tear myself away!

Girly Stuffs and The Very Not So Girly Stuffs

I love trying different stuffs on her. I can't say she feels the same way while I'm attempting to try said different stuffs, but when I'm done doing her hair, dressing her up or even changing her diaper, she'll look in the mirror and clap. It's like having a doll to play dress up with except she's real! I never played with dolls as a kid. I hated the barbies I used to receive as gifts. In fact, they still scare me a bit, but this? This is awesome, and it helps that she's such a girly one and actually seems to enjoy seeing herself all prettied up.
Aren't pigtails the cutest ever? I love seeing little girls in pigtails. I usually try not to torture her with them because she doesn't stay still long enough to tie up two ends of her hair and if it doesn't come out straight, the anal retentive in me will re-do them until they are straight (enough), but lately she has been patient. Maybe it's because she knows mommy squeals in delight whenever her hair is up that way. The headband is cute too. It would be cuter if she kept it on, but hey, she lets me work her pigtails.











***

In other news, Husband and I were watching TV the other night. He was laying down on one couch (the shorter one, of course) and I on the full size couch. His feet stick out on the shorter couch because he's tall and my head was in the direction where his feet were.

Me: What is that smell? Do you smell that?

Husband: *Sniff* I don't smell anything

*attention back on the TV*

Me: You don't smell anyth--- *sniff* OH MY GOD! It's your FEET! EEEEEEEEW!!!! What the hell?!?! Your feet smell like bad vinegar!!!

Husband: *Laughing uncontrollably*

Now let me just tell you that Husband, in the years we have been together, has never had bad body odor. I'm not just saying that because he's Husband. His gym buddies will attest to this. He doesn't wear cologne and he doesn't wear deodorant, and while that seems gross, I've never known him to smell bad or even smell much like sweat - as active as he is. He can get home wearing his soggy a$$ clothes right from the gym, and still manage to not smell bad. Until this feet incident, anyway, and it was odd because this was after a shower. Why then, you ask? He forgot his golf shoes one afternoon and wore his sneakers that is NOT meant to be worn in such a way. The result was a mix of sweaty feet, soggy grass and who knows what else (goose poopies?) for 6+ hours in warm conditions that seeped into his sneakers, and the cocktail odor was etched into the fabric. YET he continued wearing them as everything-else-wear. It's a wonder I didn't smell them before. I made him order new sneakers and because he's a hoarder and I don't trust that he will throw the old ones away himself, I am making him bring the smelly ones back home after the gym tomorrow so that I can be sure they end up in the can (outside) and he will only be wearing the new ones. *shudder*



Suffice it to say, I no longer lay near his feet. In fact, I watched TV from the floor a foot away from him tonight. The new sneakers are coming tomorrow. I did, however, get a new pair of sneakers for myself out of it. Marriage is a wonderful thing.

What Job?

I was texting with a girlfriend of mine after Jellybean fell asleep. Just one of those casual "Hey, what ya doin?". She was on her way home from work. It was a little before 8pm and I say to her "Holy crap! Now?!?" and as soon as I sent it I realized, "Holy crap! That's when I used to get off work or be on the way home from work or even later some nights". I can't imagine it anymore. It seems like a lifetime ago and while I still sort of "work", I don't have to leave my house to do it and it's not a daily thing. It can and maybe even should be, but it's not because I don't have the mental capacity some days to think beyond having to shovel dinner down my throat because I really am just that tired. Anyway, for a moment, I thought back to the days of grabbing a drink or a bite to eat with a co-worker or friend after work and remembered how fun it can be. Then that led to the memory of walking over 4 LONG Avenues and 2 blocks in the bitter, bone chilling cold to catch the train trudging through ice and slush. THEN I remembered having to walk another 2-5 blocks or more depending on where the car was parked to drive home from the station and the glorious thoughts dissipated rather quickly. When it's cold, the worst case scenario now is that I have to be a little more creative in entertaining the Jellybean. At least we're warm and our feet are toasty.

Melty

"I don't know the bad you deal with. I only know of the good things because that's all you seem to show and speak of".

That's because there is no "bad". There's a bit of the hard, yes, even a bit of the frustrating and the lonely, (which I do talk about so that is a lie, liar), but there isn't really the "bad". I suppose you can argue that those are the bad parts of being a parent, a full-time mommy, but those things to me aren't bad. They come and go quickly and nothing I wouldn't be willing to live with even happily because I get this:


























There's nothing that can call this result anything close to bad. It's called blessed and there's nothing I would trade for that right there. Is our house full of only smiles and good moments? Far from it. We dont live in a cloud. We have our share of tears, raising of voices, the scolding, tantrums and even blood as of late (sigh), but the smiley, giggly and laughy moments cancel out all of it and you forget why you were so mad. I mean, her entire face scrunches up into itself. How do you stay mad? When asked "how's it going" I can only answer you with a "couldn't be better". It also has a lot to do with that you're asking when nothing is the matter and we are having just a wacky, busy, regular day.

So Much Blood

I was in tears today. You know why? One minute the Jellybean was happily drinking water out her sippy cup, and the next minute she was on the floor bleeding out of her mouth and nose hollering at the top of her lungs. She slipped on I-don't-know-what and fell on her face with the cup still in her mouth. I started to panic because the paper towel I was trying to clean the blood off with to find the source of it was starting to get rather soaky and it was clear the bleeding hadn't stopped. I couldn't figure out where it was coming from for a good I don't know, maybe 2-3-4-5 minutes. I don't remember. Not long but seemed to last forever and when I did finally find it - in the inner part of her mouth between her top teeth and top lip - I couldn't get it to stop. I paged the pediatrician and he called back within minutes, God Bless him. Instead of the expectant "Bring her into the office - I'll meet you there", I got "keep a piece of gauze or cotton ball between her teeth and lip, make sure to keep pressure on it for 5-6 minutes and it should stop", says he. Ever try it with a baby? No worky so well. I did what I could while Husband held her down. It did stop eventually, but my heart broke into a million pieces watching the blood oozing out of her mouth and her pitiful screaming cries. I think it's still broken.

Early Bird

She felt the need to wake up super early this morning to play. And play she did. I guess it is only fair since mommy got in some very rare and much overdue playtime too. I always say I will try to get out at least once a month, but by the time I actually do think about it or even do about it, it's really months between. Do I mind? Not in the least bit. When I do get out to see a girlfriend or have dinner that I don't have to share with a baby (which really means we are both wearing most of it), I realize I miss being just a girl. Then the night is over, I come home, watch the Jelleybean sleeping through the monitor and start my morning with her the next day, and it turns out I don't miss it at all. It's a cycle.











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S.O.S.

Someone. Anyone. Help?














I am being attacked by the little person! - Posted using BlogPress

Sneaky

That's



where we keep all our dishes and bowls, the breakables (higher up where Jellybean can't reach) and all plastic non-breakable snacky pack things, bottles, sippies, etc, on the bottom shelves (where she, unfortunately, can reach because there's nowhere else to put them). I was picking up some of her toys and putting our alphabet tile mat back together (it's been a new thing lately - to pull as many apart as she possibly can) so the house was in some order before heading out. I also just changed her to head out for dinner so I pick those up off the floor to put in her hamper and this is what I found:




And here again, her sleeping form (seems like all she does is sleep based on photos, huh?) after a full day of play.




I would love to take more photos of her awake, playful, cute and even tantrummy to share with you, but I can't. By the time the clicker's gone off, all I've caught is the top of her blurry head or a chubby little hand in the view from her snatching the camera or phone away. I try. I really do.

***

Entirely off topic, by the way, what exactly is the purpose of (a?) Twitter - "I'm taking a crap in the men's room and someone just walked in on my fart" (I've actually had someone tell me this before so I suppose it's not limited to only Twitter); "I had pizza for lunch today"; "I just cut my toenails and my feet smell funny". Okay, fine, I am sure that is not the extent of it. I can actually even see a useful purpose for it if, let's say, someone is promoting some kind of charity, event, business, or even advertising a blog which I've heard of, but that doesn't seem to be the majority of the case. I don't have one because I'm a jerk and I don't care to be updated about your whereabouts or of your what-doings every 15 minutes or even every hour or even days really - unless you're my kid and I feel I have a right to butt into every minute of your day (just kidding! - maybe) or a good friend to pass time with if I truly just want idle (cyber) conversation - which is undeniably a part of my day (but with real people friends). I also read other blogs to pass time because they're interesting or entertaining or things I can relate to or compare my own notes with, but it seems Twitter is a half paragraph, two-sentence updating type of deal (do correct me if I'm wrong - I really have no clue). Please, someone, educate me. I'm dumb and ignorant, and kind of a jerk. All semi-partial jest aside, I really am curious. If someone has a good answer for it, maybe the someone can entice me into signing up for one myself. Or not. No, not really. Unless of course, it involves someone paying me monies, in which case I would gladly - no explanation necessary pay-me-now-thank-you-please =). I am just curious. Facebook? Okay, you may want to see what old friends are up to, maybe meet some new ones, share photos with family who may live far from home, keep in touch with the people you would like to rebuild some sort of relation/friend-ship with that you otherwise may not have found, network for business, make sure your old boyfriend is uglier and less successful than your current boyfriend - I can see the "Why Facebook". I personally wouldn't want to know a gazillion and three people in one lifetime as I have trouble enough keeping up with my handful of real-life friends but hey, I get it, you know? What's Twitter?

***

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Peaceful Sigh

There is nothing in this world that can adequately describe


Hahahaha she cracks me up. Spent the day home but because she ended up taking a nice long, late nap we spent the rest of the evening zooming up and down the aisles of babies r us.


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Perfecting Imperfection

How ironic. My last post should actually have been inserted here - it would've been a pretty perfect fit. Except I didn't know what was to come and the guilt that was expressed there had zero to do with the guilt that I apparently should have been feeling today. The guilt expressed previously is of my own shortcomings and not being able to deliver the things I do not understand fully or know anything about - that perhaps I should. Not because I am guilty of actually doing or not doing something. In short, I've learned to compartmentalize most of everything in the last 14 and a half months. The husband will throw around comments such as "remarkable self restraint" and the like, but he is also the person who reminds me that I am usually the "bad" parent. Ya know? If that means she will not grow up to be a self absorbed brat that goes around biting, kicking and smacking other kids in the face and thinking it's okay and even funny, or not understanding that she can't always get what she wants when she wants it, then so be the "bad" parent. Being labeled the "bad" one isn't a result of anything other than the fact that she is learning to press buttons and to press them hard and my attempts of trying to correct this behavior. Without living in my reality daily, there's no way for anyone else to know this and it must sound as though I am simply mean. There's also no way for anyone to know that I play, snuggle, kiss and dote on her as much, and more, than I reprimand her. Why? There's noone here to see that either. It's true that I am always sleep deprived. I am generally almost always hungry too. I also have headaches rather frequently. That is all secondary to what my baby needs - always. Do I struggle with it? Sure and because it's a struggle some days, I am very sensitive and mindful of it and much more careful when I know it's going to be a rough day. Is it always successful? That depends on who you're asking, but I'm confident enough to say that I have yet to lose my cool with her solely because I'm cranky. It's nothing close to being easy, but I'm far from throwing myself a pity party over it. Because of days like today, there are times I have an urge to not reprimand her for doing something she shouldn't be doing when there's someone else around, but that would just be an easy cop out. I haven't done a great job of anything but I did turn out a happy baby and that to me means the world. I'm not a perfect mom. Nor will I ever be. But I won't stop to strive for it and I will never pretend to be it. However far below perfect as I may be, I will never stop doing what I feel is right or good for her just because others are quick to point fingers, judge, question, criticize and differ in their opinions. I may not always be right, I will always second guess myself as well as be second guessed by others regularly, I will always be in search for the perfect answer and I will continue making mistakes and continue learning from them as well (hopefully anyway), but I'll always choose what I feel is best over my fears of what others may think or say. If I had to keep a list of my top priorities, at the very top will be "for her to know know she is loved in every sense of the word - at all times". A village is not necessary to raise a child. It helps, but isn't required. If you have one that works well, it's a great thing. If we attempted to raise Jellybean in our "village" of mish mashed folks, life would be far worse, and far more difficult. Sure, it would be nice to have someone else change her diaper every now and again, but I'll take mental sanity and emotional well-being versus forking over diaper duties any day. Every so often there's a cloud of doubt that someone puts over your head whether it be some random lady at the grocery store, the parents, a spouse or even a friend, and while it helps to reassess a situation, it's good to be able to take a step back and still see what you first saw when you step forward again. It's nice to know that you're not actually doing everything all wrong. I don't have bad days often. Bad moments, yes, and even those moments are few and far apart lately, and are also very short lived. In that sense, I suppose I'm a pretty content person all in all, even if not a constantly happy one (because that would just be weird) and that makes me lucky. You can't have just good days everyday (because that would be even weird-er) right?

Setting The Bar

While she is admittedly a pretty happy baby, I watch her sleep some nights and can't help but wonder if I am doing something wrong or maybe not enough. Could I be failing her in some way that I am not fully aware of? I know she knows she's so absolutely loved, but "what if"? I feel waves of this sudden rising of guilt when I least expect it. Not often, but some nights, there is a nagging feeling somewhere in the back of my mind and in the pit of my stomach that I am not doing enough. That I am not enough... And it takes all I have to keep from scooping her up and cradling her just to watch the rise and fall of her breath and whisper that I am sorry and not quite know what for.


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The Future

Even though right before taking this picture, she was actually chewing on my keyboard, she looks as though she's in super concentration mode, yes?








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Spoiled

When is too much, too much and not enough, well, not enough? It's no big secret that the Jellybean is --- to say the least --- privileged. She doesn't realize it because this is what she knows. It's what she was born into. We are far from filthy rich and we still need to be mindful of how much we spend and what we spend on. Our credit card bill this month pretty much sums that last bit up. I am far from frugal, but do try to keep in mind what I buy and the cost of buying what we need and where to find the cheapest price tag for what I'm buying. BUT, and a big one, I also love me my convenience and that alone is not an inexpensive cost. Anyhoots, back to my point of what it means to spoil your kid. I'm guilty of this in all ways and in all directions. I'm not talking about babying her and rocking her to sleep or never saying "no" and never disciplining her because it's quite the opposite in that sense. She does not get to eat if she's not sitting down. I won't feed her until she is flat on her bum on the floor or in a chair even if that means she's bawling and pouting and snuggling her pitiful little sobs into my chest. Anything she throws, she goes and picks it up to put it back herself almost all the time. We sing the "clean up" song when she's done playing (it's a Gymboree thing) and she knows to pick up whatever it is and put it back in the box, the drawer or what have you. Now she's still a baby and so it doesn't work one hundred percent of the time, but it works and when it doesn't, I scold her and she will do it. Albeit unhappily and maybe even tearfully, but she'll do it and then applaud herself by clapping or grinning back at me. She also brings me her bottle or sippy cup when she's done with it because she knows if it spills on the floor, she will be in trouble. She also does the "no no no" thing where she wags her little finger when she sees something I don't let her play with so the kiddy KNOWS and UNDERSTANDS, but she's a kid and naturally she does test her boundaries daily. I spoil her in a sense that she has everything and more and then some and this is where I wonder "how much is too much?". Just because there are kids out there that do not have enough toys or clothes or trinkets and gadgets, I don't feel the need to deprive the Jellybean of the finer things in life (to a degree, anyway) and by finer I mean, I pick up a toy for her if I happen to walk by a store and see something that I think can buy me some peace in the house for a week before she tires of it. She has hair clips that cost more than two Venti Cappuccinos from Starbucks that she loses almost daily (which is why I opted to start making my own!) and while some may view it as excessive, I don't necessarily feel that's the case. I will gladly forego a trip or ten to Starbucks to buy her that hairclip or I'll pass on eating out for lunch to buy her that activity table she no longer plays with but had a ball with for a week and only occasionally takes a jab at as she's walking past it now. For a while, I was pretty set and I actually honestly didn't buy her ANY toys for the very reason that kids have the attention span of Dory (refer to 'Finding Nemo'), but it's hard not to because you know that stupid piece of plastic is going to keep you sane for the next 168 hours. It's not a serious matter or concern at this very moment because she doesn't really know what it means to be materialistically spoiled, but she will soon enough and it's my job to teach her that not everything can be bought and that just because it can be doesn't mean that she can have it. I think I should start now. It's not like I'm out LOOKING for things to buy her constantly, but if I see something that I feel can be beneficial to me (and a little bit for her) I'll come home with it and that just may not be the right kind of message, ya know? I think the credit cards (and the husband) will thank me for this. So tell me, what do people do with their kids when it's still cold out and you're tired of being the bouncy mat? How is something so small capable of driving you nuts and keeping you sane at the same time?




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Messies

This


is the mess I created in order to make


because I tired of having to pay someone to replace every clip we lost on an almost daily basis. I must say, however, that I have a new found respect for crafty people. Just ten clips later, my finger tips are sticky and I am cross-eyed. But it is a little fun. Not tons, but a little. Would YOU like a hair clip? Or two? Or more? =) - Posted using BlogPress

Mommy, I Help

And this is the result of a little someone "helping" sort the mail.


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Tickle Me Happy

Today was date night. And by date night I mean date night for all three of us. Our funny little family enjoying a rare dinner out at a restaurant - together. Even the Jellybean seemed to know it, as happy as she was, that it was a treat. I saw her gradually getting tired - pulling her hair, excessively drooling, rubbing her face and all but trying to pull her eyelashes out as we waited to be served - and still she was full of smiles and flirted with everyone surrounding our table without so much as a whine or tantrum brewing as it often does when she's getting too tired. It was a good night. Not because it was anything spectacular, and let's face it, date night with a baby isn't the most romantical thing to do in the world. In fact, it's probably the farthest thing by definition of the word 'romance' itself, but whaddaya know, I wouldn't have it any other way. Besides that, neither I or Husband have the super cutesy, lovey romantical genes to begin with anyway. Please excuse the quality, or rather, the lack thereof. It was dark in there (Cubana in Forest Hills - super yummers, by the way) and she squirms quite a bit so it's grainy, but the silly smiles and funny faces were genuinely from just having the happies.














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Swiff Swiff

Before you start blasting me with hurtful comments like "OMG, Val, your OCD is going to ---" and the like (yeah, Amy, I mean you) I didn't make her do anything. She snatched the thing away and insisted on using the handle part so I even had to shorten it for her and snap one of the metal tubes off. How she knows that's what you're supposed to do with it is beyond me. Kids seem to "get it" without being taught. Anyway, we were blowing bubbles and I had to mop up the soap off the floor. I prefer the steamer, but it gets hot and I get scared of using it when she's around because I am afraid she'll burn herself. So watch without judgment.




and of course, all that cleaning turns into

"Whassa mattuh mommy?"

She doesn't actually really eat much of the jar food anymore unless it's just vegetables (oddly enough) because she likes to make me work so what better way to use it up than to practice feeding her highness self....

Ouch!

And she was having such a good morning.


That's a result of the dresser meeting her forehead because her highness has no patience. - Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Her Majesty

Must be nice to be THE baby. She gets a manicure as she peacefully naps her morning away.





Forgive all the pink. Whaddaya gonna do? She's a pink kinda gal. ;) - Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone