Thursday, May 17, 2012

Deciphering The Cries

Apparently, babies' cries are so generic that there are a documented set number of cries with their own meanings and signatures. Generic enough that there's an app to tell you which cry is which (how lazy have we gotten that we need an app to tell us why our babies are crying? I mean who out there is thinking "sweet, now I don't even have to invest enough time in my child to figure out why he's crying!"? I hope no one...).

My daughter has some very specific cries, which I'm going to explain in detail, from most to least severe (since you'll all need this information at some point, right?).

 
The Cries:

 
  1. "Someone is murdering me" - This is the most terrifying of all cries. It has only been heard once in our household. It instills fear in the hearts of its enemies (mom and dad). It is so named because I'm pretty sure that's what she was thinking when it happened. Though I'm not sure why. I put her down on the changing table after her bath to put a diaper and jammies on her. Que awful, horrid screaming. I looked her over and nothing was wrong. We do this every time she gets a bath and she doesn't love the few minutes when she's cold, but it's not this big of an issue. And I decided that the legend about babies being able to see things adults cant is true. And there must have been a monster in the room or something. She was totally fine. And I will be totally fine if, and only if, I never hear that sound again. 
  2. "Someone is trying to murder me" - This one used to happen a lot. This is the cry that had me in tears, rocking my baby and saying "I can't help you... I'm so sorry I can't help you..." over and over. We've come to the conclusion that this is a reflux cry. It's loud, and causes red face and big, wet tears (from both Evie and I). She only did it while she was eating, and accompanying it was thrashing of arms and legs. And while I now know that it was reflux, I'm pretty sure at the time she was certain someone was trying to get her. Solidarity, Evie. Heartburn is the devil.
  3. "I'm crying. For realz, yo" - This is a standard cry. It's the last of the "real" cries, and normally means "I'm really, REALLY hungry". It's the most annoying of the cries because I don't feel terrible that she's in pain for this one. I feel "STFU, I'm making your bottle already!". Of course I think this internally, and Evie gets the sweet baby voice. 'Cause when I'm in the kitchen and she's crying it's annoying. When I'm looking at her cute "OMG I'm about to eat!" face.. I melt. It's cute. I mean REALLY cute (I've only mentioned its cuteness 3 times in .037 seconds). She gets SO excited and has the widest eyes and squirms all around. Seriously. I'm pretty sure it's cute.
  4. "Stop being a b*tch and pay attention to me!" - Ahh, the cry of "I'm starting to get hungry" or "Excuse me. You've had 15 seconds to eat dinner and use the bathroom. It's Evie time". It's these ridiculously dramatic wails interspersed with long pauses. The kind where, if she were older, I'd expect her to be looking back over her shoulder to make sure I was looking. She gets the drama from her daddy, and dear God help me if it gets worse.
  5. "AHHHHHH EVERYTHING IS INTERESTING" - Otherwise known as overstimulation or overtired. This cry is kind of funny, because it's not really a cry. It's the beginning of a cry. Or a quick "WAH". Then nothing. Then another one. Then a weird noise. Then a giggle. Then a smile. Then another "WAH". Then she starts marching with her little feet. It's really rather hysterical. I have what is apparently called a "high energy" baby. There's a cute face that goes with this one, too. Wide eyes taking in the world. If her toy bar is on the rock n play, she bats furiously at them. If you feed her, she's asleep in T Minus 2 seconds. She's so excited and so tired that she has no idea what she's doing. This happens pretty much every night from about 6pm until feeding. It cracks me up at first, and then makes me want to punch myself in the face. And then cracks me up again. And by 7:30 when it's time to eat, I'm actually ready to put her down, which is a change from wanting nothing but her all. day. long. Another name for this cry could be "The long-winded way to eventually prepare mommy for separation when it's sleep time" cry.
  6.  
My daughter is a peach. Unless she's really gassy or reflux-y, real cries are rare. She's probably the best creature that does live or has lived on this earth, and probably the universe. And if I ever need you to babysit, now you know what to do.

Hysterics. I Has Them.

I'm not sure exactly what it is about kids' brains that allows for development to take place so quickly, but "holycraplightningspeedthisisamazing" doesn't quite cut it. I remember, very specifically, trying to get E to take a toy last week. One of these (which seems like a really dumb toy, but at her age it's easy to grasp and she loves it). I kept putting it near, on, or in her hands, and she simply wouldn't take it. I tried to tell myself that the fact that she had it on her wrist and moved her hand meant she was actually playing with it. She is, after all, a genius. But I was lying and she wasn't playing. She was the victim of mommy ridiculousness. This week, however, she really is holding things and playing. As evidenced here:


Yes, it was dark, but she's holding that same ring she didn't know what to do with just a week before. Please pardon the fact that she is quite literally covered in toys. I was.. erm.. experimenting (she'll pick up and shake rattles now, right!? [Not three days ago, but as of last night, yes!]). And if her binky, otherwise known as Polky, wasn't in her mouth, the ring would be. That's where everything goes these days, you see. And if the ring wasn't in her hands, Polky would be getting a hug. Because she's a hugger. Or likes touching things. Or something like that.

And as of today, everything means....



That we have a little thumb sucker. She has been noming on her hands for about two weeks, but she's apparently found something fun to soothe herself with - a thumb! My baby is growing up. WAY TOO FAST.

Bumbo sitting, rolling over, toy playing, thumb sucking. What's next? Walking? No thank you. Slow down, little one. I'm not ready for school and dating and weddings and.. Oh God.. my baby's going to get married one day.

Queue hysterical mother response.

I think I need a deep breathe. I'm marrying off my 3 month old. Well.. 12 weeks tomorrow.

She's amazing. And growing at the speed of "holy crap WTF just happened"?

Monday, May 7, 2012

The Incident

The other day, I posted a status on my Facebook wall that said something akin to "Should I be worried about my kid's safety if she just ate some poop?". This is the kind of concern you never really think about prior to birthing a human, but will inevitably appear at some point. And there was a time where discovering poop on my own hands would have caused me quite a bit of turmoil. But I guess when you find yourself covered in various shades and textures of poo a number of times, you get over it. What's a little less easy to get over is when E's covered in poo.

Why is that? Oh, let me tell you.

You see, as E has gotten a little older, and out of the "all I know how to do is sleep" phase and into the "I don't want to sleep EVER" phase, she's picked up a few things. For instance, she started rolling over at 5.5 weeks. Pretty cool. She's noticed her hands. Also pretty cool.. except.. not. E noticing her hands has made diaper changes a little more difficult. Especially since "the incident" (Oh, hai Lost fan). She had one of those poops to end all poops. Which, of course, I had to change immediately. So I took her sweet little legs out of her sleeper and undo her diaper and start wiping everything up. But, as I mentioned, it's one of "those" and at one point it felt like all the wipes in the world wouldn't clean her up. So I wasn't surprised when, upon the fifth or six wipe, we had a malfunction and I had to fix the dispenser, requiring me to move my line of sight off of E for about .00003 seconds.

As every mom eventually realizes, turning your head is never, ever OK. Your child could be safely secured in a plastic bubble and strapped in, but something will happen if you turn your head. He or she will come up with the only possible way to cause trouble and execute in that millisecond. In my millisecond, Evie had time to put her hands in her messy diaper, and then directly into her mouth, where all things eventually meet their demise. I wiped up her hands, finished her diaper change, changed her outfit, (because it managed to land in the dirty diaper, too [and I've since taken to removing her clothes completely when it's time for a poopy diaper change]) and then washed her hands because I just don't think a wipe is good enough for poo hands.

And then I wondered if poop would hurt her. I mean it came out of her, how bad could it be going back in? So I scoured the internet. And let me tell you... this is not an uncommon occurrence. Nor is a child ingesting animal poop. Though I have to wonder what posesses a child to pick up and eat poop from the ground. E's case was simply an accident of "EVERYTHING IS INTERESTING AND BELONGS IN MY MOUTH!" (the experts aren't kidding when they tell you that exploration begins with the mouth at this age!).

The consensus seemed to be that it would be fne, and my mother, who has a biology degree, agreed. Plus it was a teeny amount of poo, and maybe she didn't actually eat it? Anyway, I didn't call the doctor (which may or may not make me a terrible mom, but my gut told me I didn't need to worry) and she's happy and well a few days later.

I have, however, learned many important lessons from this incident. Most importantly, never underestimate your child's ability to completely gross you out.

Saturday, May 5, 2012

Beginnings

I've re-written this blog a number of times. It was going to just be about my life, but now it's going to be more of a mommy blog. Because, basically, being a mommy is my life. I do other things. I'll list a few of them:

  • Work
  • Pet cats
  • Like my husband
  • Take photos (though I'm a slacker)
  • Hate my kidneys (they're failing)
  • Watch TV
There should be more than that, but.. well, there isn't much. The kidney thing will come up from time to time, and the husband thing probably more frequently. But the reason I'm writing the blog is this:


Evangeline. The 10 week old that makes me me say things like "How does it feel to know I can feel it on my leg when you pee!?" in a sweet, sickening voice I can't seem to control.

E (as she will henceforth be referred to as) is an IVF baby, which is only important because I'm not ashamed of it. As a matter of fact, I think it's awesome that the first time I laid eyes on her she looked like this:


And I'm pretty sure that if she's as much like me as I think she is, she'll like it, too.

I'm hoping I don't bore you to tears. There's a lot going on in our little family. For instance, along with my asshole kidneys, my husband, Andy (A) has an asshole brain tumor. For what it's worth, we do OK anyway. So without further adieu, lets get this show on the road.