Music Time

I had to hand over a check to daycare today to pay for Amelia's enrollment in an elective music class. This check did not have big numbers on it, but it was indeed a big deal to me. Forget for a moment that I am a cheap, cheap man who feels like this sort of thing quite possibly should be covered by the much larger check I have to write for Mia's tuition each month. That part isn't a big deal. After all, I admit I am cheap. Also, forget for a moment that I don't know what the hell she is going to learn in class at 14 months. I'm sure there are all kinds of cognitive effects that I'm not nearly educated enough to understand. No, the big deal to me is what today meant - my tiny baby has grown so much that it is time for her to start actively participating in things like this. She's no longer a needy infant. She is a very bright young girl who is not only keenly aware of her surroundings, but is able to participate and contribute to her classroom. It amazes me to see her teachers handing her sheets of paper to pass out to various parents as they pick up their child. I can't wrap my head around her dancing in sync to children's songs like "If you're happy and you know it...". As silly as it may sound, I think seeing Sophie develop from a puppy and hit a ceiling on her understanding of things(sure, she blogs, but it's not like she can pass out papers in class) set a warped expectation of the speed of growth of which children are capable. From one week to the next, Mia seems to have picked up new abilities, new understanding of what I'm saying to her, and even new words of her own. So, do I expect her to learn how to play electric guitar in her new class? No (although you can expect a video and a call to the Oprah show if she does!). But, I do expect her to have fun, take another step closer to being a "kid", and likely blow me away with how much she is able to master.

Pictures!!!

Picture day at school today!!!! Amelia cried and refused to smile!!!! Anybody surprised??? Me neither. That girl absolutely cannot stand to "make a moment". Every picture you see of her is a sneak attack. Once she sees a camera, there are only two options - cry or eat the camera. We'll know in a few weeks if they were able to capture any good shots. With a little luck, we'll finally get some quality, professional photos of Amelia.


On a side/serious note, I'd appreciate any prayers you could send out for a friend of mine. His situation is private so I won't go into it here. Please just wish him and his family well...God will know what you mean. Thanks.

Night with Dad

This is what a night with Dad (while Mom is at work) looks like:




Hair bows ripped out, shirt stripped off, bibbed up and demolishing a plate of spaghetti like it was our job.

I think my favorite part of this picture is that she is holding her fork in one hand, basically as decoration, while she crams her mouth full using her other hand. In some ways, this is a perfect example of how Mia operates these days....She sort of knows what she's supposed to do, but at the end of the day, she's going to go ahead and do it the way she damn well pleases.

Good Mood

Of Amelia's 400 or so days on this Earth, today was easily the one in which she was in her best mood. I don't particularly know what got her headed in this pleasant direction. She didn't sleep well last night. She even started the morning in a bit of a grumpy mood. However, when Meggan dropped her off at school, rather than her standard clinging and screaming, she just blew her mother a kiss goodbye and went about her school day. This loving feeling kept on throughout the day as she greeted me at home with a big kiss on my cheek. In case you are wondering, there is literally nothing better to brighten your spirits than a big, wet, baby kiss. We had a disgustingly unhealthy dinner of pizza and cookies followed by a great night of playing in the floor with all the affection two parents could handle...even Sophie was molested with a barrage of hugs and kisses. I knew we were having a banner night when Amelia not only didn't fight me for trying to give her allergy medicine, but actually grabbed the dropper and helped the cause. The only hiccup of the evening occurred when we tried to give her a breathing treatment. I couldn't fully understand what she was screaming through the mask, but I'm pretty sure I heard something about her knowing where I could shove that inhaler. With the treatment down, it was light's out and the end of our day. So, from what I recall, the final tally was kisses: roughly 100,000 - Head bashes into the hardwoods during a fit of rage: 0. Sadly, these days I'm more impressed with the second stat.

Who doesn't like pigtails?

If you're happy..

Earth Day

Today is the 40th anniversary of Earth Day. I have not been around for all of them and I can count the number I have celebrated on exactly zero fingers. I'm not even really sure how you celebrate Earth Day. With that in mind, this Earth Day has taken on a slightly different significance for me. I can't help but look at Amelia and wonder what's going to be left for her when she is my age. What about her children? I'm no scientist and I'm not certain what to believe amidst all the political posturing on global warming. However, I think anyone who doesn't believe they are individually making a difference to the planet is fooling themselves. Just in my household, we drive an SUV, the TV is on 100% of the time we are home, we run water as if we are paid to do so, and we might throw away more groceries than we eat. It's almost shameful to see it typed out on the screen. We owe it to Amelia's generation to make some changes. I don't think it is likely that we will start biking everywhere or get solar panels installed. Also, I'd rather sell a kidney and give the proceeds to Greenpeace than switch to cloth diapers. So, THAT's not going to be the change. However, I am going to start being more cognizant of wasting electricity, running ridiculous amounts of water, and attempting to recycle every single thing possible. It will not only help the planet in the near future, but it will teach Amelia how to live a more conscious life so that she can pass it along. My changes may not be big, but if I do it, and you do it, and Amelia's generation does it, our grandchildren and great grandchildren might just have something to celebrate when Earth Day turns 80.

Return to sweetness

We had a sweet baby sighting tonight. I don't know if it was the result of two consecutive restful nights, pure luck, or if perhaps Mia saw me bad mouthing her on the blog and decided to show me up. Frankly, I don't care why she was good tonight. I was just happy to get to play with her and love on her without it kicking off a fit of screaming. Also, tonight, we were able to see what we believe to be the culprit of all her problems - one giant molar. Alas, the teeth I once thought were never coming in are now arriving at a ferocious rate and wreaking havoc. So, be careful what you wish for.

S.O.S.

Seriously, if any of you parents out there know how to handle a 13 month old with a very bad attitude, I'd like to sell you my daughter. However, since I'm pretty sure that is illegal, I'll gladly accept your advice. Please note that I asked for advice from actual parents. If you don't have kids, you cannot understand this predicament. You have never loved someone SO MUCH and still sort of wanted to put them in a headlock. I know I used to think "when I have kids and they act up, I'll do this and this and....". Guess what? That was before I saw a child laugh out loud at threats of time out, physical violence, and being put up as "Free to a reasonably good home" on Craigslist. This same child who looks her mother in the eye and THEN ragefully flings her plate off her high chair and onto the floor. Additionally, the same child who gets so ill during her tantrums (which explode from nowhere) that she begins to repeatedly bang her own head against floors, walls, even the refrigerator. Now, keep in mind, this is very new behavior. As has been fairly chronicled on here, Mia has always been a sweet, loving baby. However, the last week or so, she has just about lost her damn mind. Is she just sick and tired of being sick and tired? Is this just a phase of developmental progress? Were those teeth that grew in...or tiny devil horns? I'm sure my cuddly bear of a daughter will be back soon. Until then, I'll just hide the knives and pad the floors.

All Trimmed Up

Well, we went through with Sophie's big haircut today. I wasn't completely sure we would considering her crazy fur-style was a big part of her personality. Hopefully, it will serve its original purpose of cutting down on Sophie's pollen smuggling. But, even if not, I actually think she looks kind of cute with her new, sleeker style.

Before:





After:

New Friend

Amelia made a new friend at the store today - Elmo. I had hoped to let her see him, be happy for a second, and then let her know that Elmo had to return home to Sesame Street. She, however, had other ideas. This became quite obvious once she got him in a bear hug and gave him a big kiss. I didn't see much of a chance of Elmo going back to Sesame Street at that point.

Never saw it coming

Poor Sophie is peacefully sleeping in her favorite spot on the couch. Little does she know, she has an appointment tomorrow with the groomer. We are taking her to get shaved. I'm not sure where we will leave fur and where we won't, but I'm anticipating stopping just short of a Brazilian. While we love Sophie's ever popular Fraggle Rock look, we are hoping shorter locks will lead to less pollen being brought back in the house from her outdoor security patrols. In the end, it may not make a bit of difference, but we have to do everything we can to try to make it better for Amelia. When we shaved Miss Kitty, the net result was basically zero help on allergies and a depressed cat that looked like a fuzzy sack of chicken skin. With a little luck, this will have a big impact on allergies and a minimal impact on pet psyche. Either way, it should result in a few pictures for the blog.

Cause and Effect

When your precious, happy baby girl who normally looks like this ....






begins to feel bad and look like this ....






the doctor will prescribe this......






a GIANT bag of drugs(cordless phone used to show relative size of bag). In the past few weeks Mia has been given antibiotics, steroids, chest xrays, Tylenol, Claritin, Motrin, and now you can add Zyrtec, more antibiotics, and some form of breathing treatment spray pump with a mask.

I'm pretty sure, as a father, I could not feel more helpless or more desiring of the ability to "take the sickness" for myself instead of my baby.

Final Hours

Well, Amelia is currently in her final hours as the "baby of the family". My niece is in labor with her first child. While the new baby and Mia are technically a generation apart, they will be far closer in age than I am to anyone in my family. So, they will have a friend to play with at all the family functions. We have gratefully enjoyed all the wonderful attention Amelia Margaret has received over the past year. But, while she will always be our little baby girl, it is time for her to make room in the spotlight for Olivia Rae. Thankfully, my nephew was able to get a short leave from serving in Iraq to witness this miracle. Regardless of what he has seen in the Middle East, he is in for quite a sight. Please pray for a safe, and healthy arrival for Miss Olivia. Thanks.

Fear = Conquered

Thanks to a brave young lad named Connor, Amelia was able to overcome her grave fear of grass tonight. I'm not quite sure what exactly she was afraid of, but I do know every time I put her near or in grass, she would freeze up and scream. Connor, however, had no such issues. In fact, he quite liked the grass. His zest for running around in the green stuff led Amelia to give it a shot. By the end of the night, she was having a blast in the yard with fellow grass lovers Connor and Sophie (who, thanks to her bathroom habits, is feared by grass...not the other way around). This might not seem like much, but it will make things like going to the park a much more enticing weekend option...and a much less traumatic experience. Avoiding trauma is always a step in the right direction.

Pictures with absolutely no context

Okay, so maybe they were right.

After this evening, I am pretty sure Amelia's teachers were on to something by calling her a diva yesterday. Last night, the father in me felt a little defensive of my baby. Tonight, I'm trying to decide between diva and devil. During one five minute span, she went from breaking down and crying pitifully to writhing on the ground screaming. I'm not certain, but I'm pretty confident, during one of her screams she called me the B-word and said she could smell my fear. As parents, I don't think we were prepared for this at 13 months. I expected a little fussing, a tear here or there, etc. However, I did not envision her throwing herself onto the ground screaming while kicking her legs so much she crab-walked 15 feet down the hallway. When we got tough and tried to teach her a lesson in the bathtub, she dunked her face under water and blew bubbles screaming. I'm pretty sure she wasn't trying to kill herself, but now that we've seen that little trick, we'll have to be more on top of her in the tub ... if possible. So, tonight, we are a little frustrated, a little on edge, and frankly, a little scared.

The D word

I stayed home from work today fighting a battle against what I'll call Atomic Stomach Syndrome (ASS). At a few points in the day, I truly believed my ASS would be the end of me. I have my loving wife and wonderful daughter to thank for this gracious little stomach bug. I suppose the real root of all this evil is the disease dungeon known as daycare. Speaking of daycare, we actually get to the real point of today's post. Meggan brought Amelia home today with this report from her teachers: "Amelia is a DIVA". What?!? Can a 13-month old even be a diva??? Apparently, refusing to go out in the sunshine, crying whenever you aren't being held, and generally demanding your way gets you the D-word label. Since when does giving a child everything they want whenever they want it turn them into a diva? Oh, that's right - ALL the time. It looks like we are going to have to be tougher on little miss Mia around here. It sure would be easier not to baby her if she wasn't so sick and pitiful looking all the time. Perhaps that has been her plan the whole time? Oh no, a manipulative diva at 1...we're going to have some fun teen years.

Happy Easter

In a surprise twist, Amelia decided to have a holiday without being sick. Meggan took her turn at not feeling well, but for the most part, it seems Mia is back to her usual self - exploring, fussing, dancing. She is about a year or so too young to really get the joy of Easter. She doesn't eat candy, she doesn't have interest in hunting eggs, and she has no chance at understanding the real meaning of Easter.

However, in true Easter fashion, I did see two baby rabbits no larger than hamsters go flying out of my bushes today while mowing the lawn. They stopped a few feet away and sat perfectly still. I suppose they were hoping I didn't notice them or maybe they felt I would mistake them for garden gnomes. Either way, I briefly considered trying to capture them and sweep them to safety. Luckily I quickly realized bringing two fragile baby rabbits into a house with a dog that loves to chase rabbits is probably not a recipe for safety. Also, I couldn't escape that scene from Monty Python with all the killer rabbits. Being a father now, I didn't feel I could take the chance.

I don't recall going through any Pavlovian training. Nor do I recall any procedures to fit my ass cheeks with springs. However, at the first crack of sound on Amelia's monitor, I virtually involuntarily fly off the couch and upstairs to try to ease her quickly back to sleep before we reach the point of no return. I think it directly stems from my love of post-bedtime freedom. 9 times out of 10 it is as simple as handing her a pacifier. On that 10th time, oh that dreaded 10th time, she may already be sitting or even standing by the time I can get there. If you ever get to her room and she is already standing, turn around and throw yourself down the stairs - it will be less painful. With this current fever she has apparently grown fond of sporting, I am fearful that many of my trips will end in the 10th scenario as opposed to the other 9. Pray for me.

Home away from home

Today was the beginning of a long weekend from work. True to her normal form, Mia felt this would be the perfect time for her to get sick...again. I'm not quite certain how she knows the weekend is upon us, but it never fails. This is her second consecutive weekend spent in the Urgent Care center. That is not the kind of streak we are hoping for around here. This time the little girl had a fever that progressively was getting worse despite any medication we gave her. We decided Urgent Care at 7p.m. was quite a bit better than the Emergency Room at midnight. Urgent Care wasn't THAT bad save a minute or two where I thought I was going to have to pull Meggan off the front desk girls for skipping us in line twice. Her "mother bear" instincts were coming out in force on that one. After another fever spike, barfing all over a doctor, and a few chest x-rays, we left with some antibiotics, a crying baby, and a negative test for pneumonia. All told, the night wasn't as bad as it could have been. With a little luck Amelia will get a good night's sleep and feel much better in the morning. Otherwise, we might just go visit our home away from home - the doctor's office.