Magic Words

     The Kid is bow required to say "Please" and "Thank You". I know, she's only 18 months old, but good manners start young (and I really can't stand rude kids). Anyway, now she thinks as long as she says one of these two phrases along with "Uh Oh" she can do whatever she wants and receive no punishment. For example, if she puts her dirty kid fingers in your dinner she says "Thank You" as she shoves it in her mouth. Or, she'll drop her cup on the floor and yell "Uh Oh" as she sits in a pool of juice. Better yet, when she really wants something she'll say "Pleeeeeaaaaassseee" while she trying to take it from you.The Please-and-Thank-yous don't bother me at all. It's the "Uh ohs" and "No ways" that really get me though.
Like this morning: I called mom to check on The Kid and she if she's taking a nap or set the house on fire or whatever. Mom answers the phone and laughs. "Is she sleeping?" I ask. "No" mom replies "I put her in her crib and she's been talking. When the phone rang she said 'Uh Oh'". 'Uh Oh's right' I think to myself. She knows it's nap time and she knows it's me calling to check.
In short, 'Uh Oh' means 'I've been caught'. If she decides she's going to try to make it all the way up the stairs before I notice she's not standing beside me, 'Uh Oh' is a completely innocent and acceptable phrase to say as I run up the stairs (two at-a-time mind you) behind her. It's like saying 'Oh, aren't I cute? Don't you still love me even though I'm trying to kill myself and give you a heart attack all at the same time?'. Just like 'Please' means 'I'm going to say this as sweet as I can and hope that you will give me some of what you have before I forcibly take it from you'.
At least it's better than some of the other things she's been saying lately: specifically "No Way".
If I tell her not to feed the dogs off the table she says "No Way". If I tell her not to put her hands in the toilet, she kicks and screams "NO WAY!!!". Cute the first time; kinda funny the second, really annoying the 7,345th.

It's kinda funny how quick kids figure these things out for themselves. I thought we were safe from this kind of thing (mostly because she's an only child and isn't around other kids enough to conspire and trade tips).
Alas, no parent is safe, I fear. It's like when your mother said "You're going to get yours 10-fold when you have kids". It's not that I didn't believe her, I just didn't think I was that mean.

Shock and Awe

The Kid will be one year old this week. I can't believe how fast these last twelve months have gone by. She's been into everything lately; if it will stay still long enough, she'll try to run and get it. She wrestles the dogs, opens up every door and drawer she can get to, and lately, trying to run away from me when I try to take something out her hands. It kinda makes me pine for the days she was tiny and just laid there... and cried , alot. So maybe not, but I did start to think about the day she was born.

Actually, it all started the Tuesday night before. It was about 5 o'clock at night and I was helping my mom make dinner. I had been feeling good all week, but I was pretty sure this baby was going to show up sooner rather than later. My due date wasn't for another week, but seeing as I was 200lbs and measuring at 42 weeks, I had better have this baby soon. All of a sudden I felt bad. Real bad. Like 'Get outta my way so I can get to the bathroom'-bad. After about an hour of getting up and down I thought I better call a medical professional; so I called my cousin, the nurse. I told her what was going on. "Do you think I'm in labor?" I asked "Because it really feels like it". "Well, personally, I never went into labor because of the C-Section so it was awesome, but it sounds like you are. Let me get a second opinion. HEY!" and then she proceeded to yell at her sister in law, who is also a nurse. "She says yep. Have you called the hospital?" "Not yet" I reply "My water hasn't broke, so I'm just gonna ride it out.". "Umm, O kay... let me know how that turns out." So there I was, doubting myself. About 8 o'clock I finally called the hospital. I basically had the same exact conversation with the on-call doctor, so I decided to go home and try to get some sleep, I had a doctor's appointment the next morning, after all.
The next morning, I got up and got ready to go to the doctor's office. The drive there was the longest one ever, and so was the wait. When the nurse called me back, the first thing she said was "Umm, how are you feeling?" "Like I'm gonna have a baby" I reply. She took me back and got my weight and blood pressure and after seeing all that she let me lie down. Thank God. I had been up all night watching BBCAmerica. How can there not be one episode of Doctor Who on when you really need it? Seriously! Anyway, when my doctor came in she confirmed it. "Yep, we'll have a baby today! Let me call over and get you admitted and we can go on over and get you started." Sweet relief. "Sweet!" I reply "Ok. I'll go to the car and get my bag. Do I need to meet you in admitting or..." She actually looked shocked. "Oh no! We'll take you over there in a wheelchair. Don't worry and just hang tight. I'll get the girl to come get you."
Now, I'm thinking this girl better be named 'Helga' and be an Olympic wrestling champ for the former Soviet Union. You know, someone who has the upper body strength to push a 200lb girl to labor and delivery. About the time I've gotten a really good picture of this hoss of a woman in my head, I hear a faint knock on the door. In walks a small girl. "Are you ready to go?" She says. This was not the 'Helga' I pictured. This poor girl is about 5'1 and probably weighs about 98lbs soaking wet. Poor thing. I load up in the chair and off we go. Ready to have a baby.

Fast forward a few hours and I'm really in labor. I had decided even before I got pregnant that I would have a natural childbirth. But, after a few hours of excruciating pain, I wussed out. The drug lady came in and stuck that huge needle in my back. 'Perfect' I thought, but it was far from that. After a few more hours, it was evident God has a sense of humor; my epidural did not work. At all. I was determined though. Determined to get this kid out before sundown, determined not to make a peep while pushing out this humongous baby and determined not to puke. Oh wait, I just puked. Right at Bubba. Oh well, this was all his fault anyway.
At about 7 o'clock my doctor comes in. "Let's take a look..." she says as she violates me without warning. "Great! We'll have a baby by 8!" Well awesome. Let's get this show on the road. 8 o'clock rolls around and The Kid has other plans. She decided that 8 wasn't going to work for her, so she turned. She was already doing things her way so, we're stuck. Family here, doctor here and The Kid decides she's not quite ready.
Then, my doctor and nurse have a great thought. Why don't I get on all fours with my bare ass in the air and rock back and forth to get this kid to turn? Seriously. But, by 9 o'clock, I was ready to try anything.
After 45 minutes of acting like a cat in heat, she was right where she needed to be so I could start the fun task of pushing.

At 10:20 pm on a Wednesday, The Kid  made her official debut. At 8lbs 3oz and 20 3/4 in long, she was perfect. Bubba got to take her down to the nursery so the nurses could do their thing and clean her up. He was such a proud daddy. He came back and told me about the nurses telling him that she was the prettiest red-headed baby they'd ever seen, and about what all the family had to say and then he stoppped and looked at me. "You know, I have never seen someone in so much pain in my entire life, and you didn't even make a noise. I'm so proud of you. But, holding your leg... I saw alot more than I wanted to see." Well, you're welcome.

Now,after a year of Colic, crying (baby and mommy), sleepless nights, first smiles and giggles, crawling, talking and first steps sometimes I'm surprised we've survived, but it's been an adventure. A really fun adventure I'm not ready to do again... quite yet.

Woodchuck

The Kid has teeth. They're not just baby teeth, they're these sharp little puppy teeth that she likes to use to bite ANYTHING; me, her father, toys, and furniture. Yes, furniture. I found this out this yesterday.

The fact that my child has decided she has a taste for wood and varnish is actually my sister in law's fault. 'How is that?' you may ask. Well, I'll tell you.

When The Kid was about 9 weeks old, she refused to take any sort of nap during the day. I tried, believe me, but the only time she would close her eyes was when she would pass out while nursing. I would be terrified to move for fear of waking her up so there I sat, Kid fast asleep on the boppy, slack-jawed and drooling my own breastmilk all over me. Disgusting, I know. She also refused to sleep more than two hours at a time at night. I was at my wit's end. I had just gone back to work and was routinely falling asleep at my desk. For some reason, snoring at work is frowned upon. Imagine that. Since I getting fussed at by my boss (who had the only other office upstairs. I guess I was interrupting her crossword puzzle time) I asked my sister in law for advice. Since she has two girls of her own I figured she had all the answers. Little did I know she was the 'Sleep Nazi'. The minute I said something about sleep she started babbling something about 'set naps' and chanting something like "It's not logical, it's biological". I thought she'd lost her mind; or become a scientologist at the very least. Before I could say 'Tom Cruise' she explained it was all about this magical book. Healthy Sleep Habits, Healthy Baby was supposed to be the answer to all my problems. Sleep schedules, set naps and 'crying it out' were all things I saw when I skimmed trough the book because I was half-asleep and couldn't read through half-closed eyes. It all sounded like good ideas, but I'm lazy and it was just easier to let The Kid sleep in my bed physically attached to me like a human pacifier.

Jump ahead 7 months. I finally picked up the book again. Did you know 9 month olds need two naps a day? Did you also know they have to teach themselves to fall asleep? Well neither did I. So I read, and read, and decided to do it. Yes, it sucks to let your baby cry, but having a 5 year old scream "WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME ANYMORE?!" while crying and trying to climb you like a rabid lab monkey because they don't want to go to sleep sucks alot worse. So, I did it. I let her cry. It really wasn't that bad. She eventually went to sleep, and she stayed asleep for hours. Praise Jesus (and Dr. Weisbluth).

About two days into this adventure I decided to check in on her during her morning nap. She was up on her knees, hands and mouth on the crib rail trying to gnaw her way out. After explaining to her that ash was not a suitable food group and putting her back down she fell asleep. I didn't think anything more about it until Tuesday. That's the day she woke up from her nap with black flecks all around her mouth. I thought it might have been the blueberries from her lunch, but when I went in her room I saw it. She had used her teeth to scrape off a fair amount of paint from her crib rail. Like a woodchuck. Lovely.

Ooo-Zay

Bubba and I took The Kid to the zoo last week. It was...uhh...an experience. We went with Bubba's oldest sister, her husband, and their two girls. Bubba said it was MILF central. For some reason I only saw the people who shouldn't have procreated in the first place, thus making me feel better by comparison. All in all it was a productive trip for all.