parenting

Conversations

These are the conversations that make me love my peeps.

Me, drawing a picture of Viola's favorite air travel vessel: Mama's drawing a blimp!
Viola: Bimp!
Me, drawing clouds: What are these?
Viola: ...
Me: Clouds?
Viola: Couds!
Me, drawing the sun: What's this?
Viola, triumphant: Pider!!*

-------------------

Me, in living room, playing with Viola, yelling to Joe in the kitchen: Were you the one who told me just a few years ago that "We Are the World" was about AIDS?
Joe: Uh, maybe.
Me: It's so weird that I didn't know it was about AIDS. Kind of like I didn't know "Who's the Boss" was about class.
(pause)
Joe: Actually, I'm in here thinking, "Did I know that 'We Are The World' was about AIDS?" So, I'm probably not the one who told you. Unless I knew at one time and just forgot.
Me: It's not really something you'd forget.
Joe: No, it's really the perfect thing to forget.

*Spider

More Shoes Please

Viola and Jess went shopping. Viola had to try everything on before bed. The shoes, not the jammies. Before bed, meaning laying down and not sleeping. Must have been overstimulated at the mall, Nordstrom sale and all. Mama's shoes, jammies, and trying to wink. Ok, I forgive you, you charming little devil.

I don't have anything in my mouth, especially not a sticker

I just remembered these photos that my friend Jenny took of Viola on Valentine's Day while she was helping me figure out our new camera. There are more (without stickers in mouths) over in the photos section. Jenny photographed us as a new family last year and is going to shoot us again next weekend (she has a new website for her fabulous photography business here). This gorgeous red sweater was knitted for Viola by her great-grandma.

Crackers

The upside to single parenting is that I get Viola all to myself. I presented her with crackers for the first time on Friday night.

Hm, these are tasty. Crunchier than anything I've ever eaten, but tasty.

Maybe I'll bite off a bigger piece.

I've seen squirrels do this; I think I've got the method down.

That is one tasty, salty slurry. Let's add some more.

More, mama! (This is how she makes the "more" sign.)

Let's just say they were a huge hit. Hooray for wheat consumption!

Single Parenting, Round Two

Perhaps you recall my trials and tribulations last spring when Joe went out of the country for work.

This time, he's gone for longer and I've just (on Monday!) started my new job. I'm still getting used to the commute, which is why it took me two hours and two buses to get there this morning, when it should take one hour and one bus.

And on the way home I realized I left my car keys at the office...in Seattle. Lucky for me, Tory the super-Nanny swooped in to get me in our other car. Tacoma Dome Station security assures me my car will be ok there overnight.

Meanwhile, Joe tells me the airport in San Juan, Puerto Rico is kind of a dump. He said something about a really bad sandwich.

A year of texts

Selected texts sent to me from Joe over the course of the year:

"Feed me!"
Jan 22, 2009 7:56 pm

This was my first time away from the baby for any substantial amount of time. I had gone to a baby shower. It was before she was taking a bottle, so I needed to be home to feed her, and this was my cue to return.

"I'm home if you need a ride. Since it's raining."
Mar 2, 2009 5:15 pm

I was at a play date at Jenny and Clark's - they lived about 12 blocks away at the time, and I would put Viola in the wrap and walk over there. Clark was born two weeks before Viola, and Viola and I hung out with them once a week until I went back to work. I don't know what I would have done this year without Jenny!

"Everything going well with the Pookie at work?"
Jul 8, 2009 10:17 am

By this time I was back at work. I'm not sure why I brought her in this day, but I'm sure it didn't go well. There was nowhere for her to nap, and I was forever handing her off to coworkers just as she needed to be changed or fed. I love that he capitalized our pet name for her.

"I don't have a house key."
Jan 9, 2010 10:32 pm

The three of us had been out that day, and we'd dropped Joe off at the studio so he could work a late party, and then we'd gone to bed. He'd gotten a ride home with a friend, but he couldn't get in the house. I didn't hear this text; my phone was downstairs and I was fast asleep. Asleep, that is, until he started throwing pebbles at the window.

"Breast shields?"
Jan 11, 2010 8:05 am

For perhaps the 50th time in my year of pumping, I had forgotten a part to my breast pump at home. For perhaps the 10th time, I would run to Target this day to buy spare parts. Other times, I would fashion bottle lids out of plastic wrap and rubber bands secreted from the supply closet, or pour breast milk into Ziploc baggies. Once I even borrowed an entire pump from a very generous co-worker.

"The trash can has a mouse in it!"
Jan 18, 2010 9:33 am

Ah yes, and this brings us up to the present. Mouse Battle 2008 became Mouse Battle 2009, which has become Mouse Battle 2010. We've called in the professionals now, but that doesn't mean we aren't still living with the problem every day. On this particular morning, Joe said the mouse was staring at him from under a pile of garbage and he took a moment to ask it, "Why? Why are you in my garbage can?" But, to mis-quote one of Viola's favorite books, the mouse didn't answer. He was very busy eating our garbage.

The New Enemy

There were the first nine and three-quarters months of being parents, when we didn't have to carry around an epi-pen, and now there's the rest of our lives as parents, when we have to have one within reach at all times.

The enemy is sesame seeds, so close to Viola in this picture taken at the Greek Festival 3 weeks ago.

Yet, she didn't ingest them until today, when Joe mixed some tahini in to her oatmeal, at the suggestion of our baby food book ("great source of protein!"). Every horrifying allergy symptom followed, including vomiting, hives, wheezing, and swelling. And then, an ambulance ride, the pediatric emergency room, more vomiting, and a lot of waiting and watching. We were all back home by noon, Viola sufficiently doped up on Benadryl and steroids. In a few hours, the swelling had subsided and she was her old self.

The next time she is exposed to sesame -- on a hamburger bun, in hummus or salad dressing -- she probably won't get off so easy. That's where the epi-pen comes in. The doctor actually referenced Pulp Fiction when he wrote the prescription.

The irony is that we've been hyper-focused on possible food allergy since the beginning -- eliminating dairy from my diet for the first six months, waiting until 6 1/2 months to introduce solids, and carefully waiting 4 days after each new food to detect signs of allergy. Joe was allergic to wheat, dairy, and corn when he was a baby, so we decided to wait until after one year to introduce those foods. We never suspected sesame; I didn't even know it was an allergen. But according to this article, sesame is now in the top ten most allergic foods in the U.S.

And now I'm staring at a blinking cursor like Doogie Howser, wondering what bit of wisdom will wrap up this post. Insert something here about working-mom guilt and the longest drive from Olympia to Tacoma, and the leap of faith that is bearing a child. I actually thought when I sat down to write this post that I might save some parent somewhere from feeding their child sesame too soon, but the chances of that happening are probably close to nil. And so, you see, I read a little too much Hermann Hesse in high school to find anything uplifting to say at this point.

Popular culture references for baby

You want your kid to grow up culturally literate? Skeptical of advertising? A savvy maven of underground trends? The type of person who throws around references to the Bhagavad Ghita and Taxi in the same conversation?

Best to start her off at birth, then. (Gold star to anyone who identifies the source of all references in the comments)

When nursing, announce which breast you're going to offer by chanting "Left side, left side, we gonna set this party off right."

When joining two or more toys together for the child's amusement, refer to it as a "Wu-Tang toy."

When she is trying to stand and is swaying from side to side, ask, "Viola are you ok? Are you ok? Are you ok Viola?"

Aw shoot, I know there are more, but I can't think of them right now.