Archives for February 2006

Cordy-bear,

You’ve been with us 17 months today. It’s hard to believe how big you are now, compared to just a year ago. You’ve always been on the big side, and you’re continuing to stay that way it seems.

You outgrew most of your 18 month clothing a few months ago, and now are inching your way into 2T. Of course, your head still requires a 4T hat.

In the past month, you’ve amazed us by your ability to count. No one remembers teaching you how to count to six; you seem to have picked it up on your own. Then I watch Noggin with you, and see your favorite friend, Moose A. Moose, counting forks and sides of shapes and ants.

Ah-ha! Moose taught you to count. You count right along with him, although you seem to have something against the number four. Half the time you neglect to put it between three and five. I guess you’re just very excited to get to fi-siih (all one word). Screw the experts who say TV only rots the brains of our youth – our TV is teaching you to count, and I’m right there to reinforce what you’re learning on Noggin.

Not to say that your favorite boy band is being ignored. Nothing can make you snap your head around faster than to have the Wiggles on TV. Your devotion to them is strong and unwavering.

In your top 5 most important things in life, they rank slightly beneath mommy and daddy, and just above food and your pink bunny lovey, although some days they seem to even rank above mommy and daddy.

This month has not been kind to you when it comes to head injuries. You are a skilled walker now, and what you lack in grace and coordination you make up for in speed. We wish you would slow down, but you have a need for speed. Chasing you three laps around the downstairs to wipe your nose helps build that endurance you seek. But speed has led to carelessness and injury, and we are sometimes embarrassed to take you out in public for fear that people will think we abuse you. You’re also interested in jumping now, and while you can’t get your feet off the ground, watching you try is adorable.

The sippy cup is still a battle. You carry it around and shove it in our faces to make us hold it so you can have a drink. While we’re glad you’ve taken to the sippy so well, we really wish you’d hold your own cup. This is getting old, fast.

I’ve tried holding your hands on the cup, which results in you throwing yourself to the ground in a tantrum of protest. I’ve tried not giving in, only to have you follow me around the house, sippy in hand, whining and thrusting it at me anytime I turn around. I keep hoping that one day you’ll pick the thing up and take a drink on your own. I don’t want to still be holding that cup for you when you’re in junior high.

Your newest obsession is dish towels. Once you learned to open the lowest kitchen drawer, and found stacks of towels in there, you’ve insisted on placing them where you think they need to be. This includes the steps, the kitchen floor, in front of the TV, on the cats, on your head, and in your mouth.

Occasionally you will place some of them back into the drawer, giving me hope that you will learn to clean-up soon, but then you quickly fling them back out onto the kitchen floor again. Ah well.

Seeing your personality develop this month has been amazing. You’re starting to really make the connection with communication, and will use any form of communication necessary to get your point across. Thankfully, you’ve resorted to screaming and whining less than you used to. You’re especially good during your alone time with daddy, and choose to hold in your true feelings until mommy is home.

You still aren’t fond of sleeping. Afraid you’ll miss the pony rides, I guess. While it frustrates me, your grandma laughs at your inability to nap. The words “just like your mom” are often heard between hearty chuckles. I guess I’m getting some kind of mommy retribution for how I was as a child. Don’t worry, I’ll try not to laugh (as much) when you have children who won’t sleep.

In all, I’m so enjoying see you grow and develop. You are strong-willed, but I wouldn’t want to change you for anything.

Your persistence and determination will serve you well as you get older and tackle new challenges.

Never lose that fire in your eyes, no matter how much I may beg you to in the future.

Love,
Mommy

Kristen over at Motherhood Uncensored has created a new meme. The point of the meme is to find a picture of your 80’s alter-ego. This one took a little thought, and a lot of picture searching.

So who am I? Well, I always wanted to be this:

But in reality I was more like this:

Yes, that’s Molly Ringwald in the Facts of Life.

I had enough TV to watch each week. I didn’t need another show to be hopelessly addicted to.

House M.D. on Fox has me hooked, though. After hearing so much about it from people we knew, Aaron and I watched an episode about a month ago. And now? Now I’m driving past cops at 75 mph so that I won’t miss much of tonight’s episode. I need help.

We had seriously cut back on TV when Cordy was born, mostly because we never had time to follow any storyline with a colicky baby. Slowly, I’ve allowed myself to form relationships with TV characters. I came back to Smallville after the strange and whacked-out season last year. I’ve had an on-again, off-again love with ER: it’s evolved into a take-it-or-leave-it relationship, where I can watch an episode out of sequence and be content if I miss the next one. I’ve finished the entire Sex and the City series, and feel no need to return to it, although I had a fabulous time with our hours together. American Idol has been here all along, too, hiding in the shadows as my deep dark secret. I love it, but I feel dirty for loving it.

Then along came Bones, a new show about a forensic anthropologist. Bet you never knew that forensic anthropologist was one of my chosen careers as a child, did you? Yep, right up there with marine biologist and astronaut. Bones is by far one of the best written shows on TV right now. Not only is there interesting science (no lowest common denominator here!), but the characters are complex and the banter is witty.

And now it’s House, a TV show about an egotistical doctor who has the worst bedside manner ever seen. He’s such a despicable character – why do I like him? I also have no idea what’s going on at times, because we started watching somewhere in the middle of season 2, and we have never seen season 1. What happened to his leg? What happened between him and the psychiatrist?

I really didn’t need another TV series. Now I’m even lusting after a Tivo, to make sure I never miss my favorite shows. Will it ever end? Am I a horrible person for spending so much time each week with my boob tube?

Fess up, people. What shows do you have a personal relationship with? And are they healthy relationships or are they spiraling out of control? Could you walk away if you had to?

After a week of dealing with a sick child, karma has rewarded me. Today I got to do something I haven’t done in a while. Something that I have been wanting to do, something I have been needing to do, and something that isn’t easy to do.

I went shopping, at the mall, sans baby and husband.

About two weeks ago my last work bra (yes, I have only one bra to wear to work) gave me its resignation notice via an exposed underwire poking me in the armpit. While I was hoping for two weeks notice, I found myself needing a new bra right away.

Today I finally got to shop for a new bra. For the past two weeks, I’ve endured the poking. I’ve pushed the wire back in, I’ve put duct tape over the hole in an attempt to hold it in, and sometimes I sat leaning to the left to spare my armpit the viscous jab of the wire. I simply haven’t had the time or the available babysitting to venture out for a new bra.

Bra buying takes time. First, you must try on a bra before buying it. It’s not something that you can pick off the rack and buy. Some aren’t sized properly. On some, the straps are too wide, others have the straps too narrow. Some have the underwire come up too far, some have far too much padding.

Men would never be able to handle wearing bras, because they’d never have the patience to try them all on.

Second, there are a gazillion different styles, all with their quirks, and all fitting just a little different. Demi cup? Full coverage? Padding? Front or back hook? Lace? Satin? Lace and satin? Halter strap? Strapless? Backless? Long line?

It’s not a wait that a toddler, even a patient toddler, can easily endure. And my little strong-willed monster darling certainly wouldn’t have the patience to sit through a marathon visit to the dressing room. I wouldn’t even be able to offer her fun colors – I’m simply looking for a neutral colored bra.

If Aaron came along, Cordy would naturally choose the moment I’m ready to try on bras to have a seismic meltdown with daddy and push him to the point of pressuring me to hurry up so we can leave. Too much stress.

Today the stars aligned, and Aaron found himself with an empty afternoon, so I took my chance and ran to the mall. Even though it’s snotsicle cold outside, I happily parked in the back of the crowded lot and walked into the mall, unburdened by a stroller, a diaper bag, or a tempestuous child.

Victoria’s Secret is my bra shop of choice. I hate how expensive they are, but they do generally last longer and fit better than anything I could find in JC Penney. I haven’t been in Victoria’s Secret in a long time, but at first glance it appeared that little has changed. Lots of pink everywhere. Lingerie I couldn’t even think of squeezing my behind into. Sales girls dressed in black wearing far too much makeup and far too pretty to make me feel comfortable.

However, they have taken a new sales direction since the last time I was in. I’m used to being asked if I need any help at first, telling them no, and continuing on my way in peace. Oh no, now that’s just not allowed. I was pestered all over the damn store: Have you seen our new bra? (Yes, it’s hard to miss here in the front of the store.) Here, take a shopping bag while you look around! (I’m just looking for a bra.) Can I measure you to see what size you are? (No thanks, I really don’t want you touching me there.) You really must try our new bra! (No, you really must leave me alone.) What can I help you find? (The exit? Someplace I won’t be bothered?)

After running the gauntlet of sales girls, I managed to snag four bras and hide in a dressing room. Yes, I did try the new bra, and I wasn’t impressed. I just wanted a bra like my old one. Of course, with the product changing entirely every 6 months, my bra was no longer made.

I found one bra similar to my old one (“It’s the new and improved version!” “What does it do? Wash itself?”) and was content. I considered buying two, but at $45 a bra, I decided I’m going to settle for one and work this one just as hard as the last one. The peppy girl at the register tried to persuade me to purchase something from their “Pink” line in order to get a free stuffed puppy, but I quickly informed her that I am a mommy, and do not want to see another stuffed animal in my house at this time.

Walking out into the mall general area again, I browsed a few stores before leaving. I saw several moms out shopping with their kids, many of whom were asleep in the stroller. I wanted to ask them what they drugged their kids with to make them sleep in the stroller, because Cordelia would never entertain the thought of sleeping while out and about.

In all, it was a successful outing, and one thing off my to-do list. Now if I can only find the time to get out for a facial and a massage. Maybe in another 6 months.

A Mamaku for my daughter’s cold that won’t go away: