My daughter has started talking... sort of. I know she's trying to communicate with me, but right now she just sounds like an angry bird. Lots of shrieking and squawking. She definitely gets this from the Blackwell side of the family.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Sittin’ pretty
After all the fanfare, I finally pulled the trigger and got Taylor-tot a Bumbo chair. And other than the snug-fit on her thighs, she really seems to like it. And that’s nothing a little WD-40 won’t fix.
So yes, I’m now a fan among fans of this wonder-chair. Thank you, Mister Bumbo. Maybe, for your next invention, you could make a pair of footie pajamas that don’t have 20+ snaps in the crotch. THEN my life would be complete.
So yes, I’m now a fan among fans of this wonder-chair. Thank you, Mister Bumbo. Maybe, for your next invention, you could make a pair of footie pajamas that don’t have 20+ snaps in the crotch. THEN my life would be complete.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Bum wheel
The mystery of Ruby’s funk mood has been solved. My four-legged daughter has a torn ACL. She had been limping around on-and-off for the past few months, most noticeably after a day when she ran a lot. Yesterday was a marathon day for her - Two walks and lots of tennis ball time. Ruby runs like a Clydesdale, very hard and very aggressive. Last night before bed she wouldn’t put any pressure on her back left leg, and this morning she was still tripoding around. Chris took her to the vet and they diagnosed her with a torn ACL, and he’s going to have a consultation next week to discuss surgery. Until then we’re on strict orders not to run her, and she’s on a cocktail of joint medicine and painkillers. And treaters. Lots and lots of treaters.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
My four-legged daughter
Ruby has been in a bit of a funk lately. We understand why. Four months ago she was an only child, and now she’s second in line to the cutest baby in the world. And even though Taylor isn’t breaking her toys or reading her diary, Ruby seems to be annoyed that we didn’t consult with her first in making her a big sister. She gets this from me. Apparently when Libba was born, I was so mad at my mom that I wouldn’t even go into the hospital room. I was pretty unhappy about being knocked off the pedestal. Chris, on the other hand, was supposedly this perfect angel of a big brother right off the bat when Ryan was born. Perfect, perfect, perfect. Puke, puke, puke.
The reason I think the Rubes is a bit down is because she’s taken up to hiding underneath the bed all day. And not even our bed, it has to be one of the guest beds in the basement. As if even being on the same floor as us in unbearable to her. She wakes up, eats, does her business and then straight down to the basement to hide under the bed all day. I try to lure her out with treaters and tennis balls, but she won’t budge. I’ve even tried crawling underneath the friggin bed to get her, but she’ll just scoot away from me. Sometimes she’ll sneak out long enough to grab something out of the garbage and then destroy it under the bed, knowing that the only thing that annoys me more than her being under the bed is having shredded toilet paper rolls under there with her.
When I was telling Libba about my predicament, she suggested that maybe Ruby just needed some time to herself and a place to get away from the chaos. I can see that. Up until four months ago, she had free reign of the house while we were at work. And now I‘m home all day with a new little person who cries and smells funny. Maybe she’s sick of us. Maybe the bottom of the bed smells like Italian sausage. Either way, she hides from me all day.
I know what she needs. She needs more attention. But some days I am so consumed with the new challenges of mommy-hood I don’t get a chance to brush my teeth until noon, so it’s hard to take the time to army-crawl under the bed and have a heart-to-heart with my dog. But I need to. Because I miss her too. So this is my pledge to her and to everyone, that I will start giving more love to my four-legged daughter. And much to the dismay of my dentist, I will put Ruby-time ahead of brushing my teeth. It’s not like she’s going to complain about my breath.
The reason I think the Rubes is a bit down is because she’s taken up to hiding underneath the bed all day. And not even our bed, it has to be one of the guest beds in the basement. As if even being on the same floor as us in unbearable to her. She wakes up, eats, does her business and then straight down to the basement to hide under the bed all day. I try to lure her out with treaters and tennis balls, but she won’t budge. I’ve even tried crawling underneath the friggin bed to get her, but she’ll just scoot away from me. Sometimes she’ll sneak out long enough to grab something out of the garbage and then destroy it under the bed, knowing that the only thing that annoys me more than her being under the bed is having shredded toilet paper rolls under there with her.
When I was telling Libba about my predicament, she suggested that maybe Ruby just needed some time to herself and a place to get away from the chaos. I can see that. Up until four months ago, she had free reign of the house while we were at work. And now I‘m home all day with a new little person who cries and smells funny. Maybe she’s sick of us. Maybe the bottom of the bed smells like Italian sausage. Either way, she hides from me all day.
I know what she needs. She needs more attention. But some days I am so consumed with the new challenges of mommy-hood I don’t get a chance to brush my teeth until noon, so it’s hard to take the time to army-crawl under the bed and have a heart-to-heart with my dog. But I need to. Because I miss her too. So this is my pledge to her and to everyone, that I will start giving more love to my four-legged daughter. And much to the dismay of my dentist, I will put Ruby-time ahead of brushing my teeth. It’s not like she’s going to complain about my breath.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Sucka
My daughter is cursed in that she comes from a long line of Young-family thumb suckers. Libba, Will and I all sucked our thumbs. My Mom even admits that she sucked her thumb until a ridiculous age. She was so nervous we would carry on the tradition that she bribed me in the second-grade. Brooke, she said, if you go a whole week without sucking your thumb, I’ll get you a Barbie. And Libba, never the one to pass up a deal, totally quit cold-turkey so she could rake in a doll too. Of course she was done for good, while I still snuck a few thumb sucks now and then for a few years after. Just another example of my baby sister excelling in something far beyond me.
I thought Taylor would bypass the thumb sucking due to her LOVE of the binky. Not the case. She’s now prone to spitting out the pacifier and greedily devouring her fingers, drooling all over her hands and her outfit in the process. It’s an obsession now. I try to remove her slobbery digits and reinsert the binky, but all she‘ll do is spit out the plastic and go for the real thing. People will say, Oh, she's discovered her hands. Well, yes, if DISCOVER means shoving them so far into her mouth that sometimes she gags. Is there a Baby Bulimics Anonymous hotline I should be contacting?
I thought Taylor would bypass the thumb sucking due to her LOVE of the binky. Not the case. She’s now prone to spitting out the pacifier and greedily devouring her fingers, drooling all over her hands and her outfit in the process. It’s an obsession now. I try to remove her slobbery digits and reinsert the binky, but all she‘ll do is spit out the plastic and go for the real thing. People will say, Oh, she's discovered her hands. Well, yes, if DISCOVER means shoving them so far into her mouth that sometimes she gags. Is there a Baby Bulimics Anonymous hotline I should be contacting?
Sunday, July 20, 2008
The Famous Amys traveling band
On Saturday night we gassed up the Caddy and made a trip out to Waynesville for our good friends Chad and Amanda’s wedding. Their event was very intimate, about 30 people, and overlooked the Great Smokies in all their glory. It was simple, elegant and sweet - And we felt blessed to be able to share their special day with them.
Not only was it wonderful to celebrate the new Mr. & Mrs. Muri, but it was the first time that just Chris, Taylor and I had ventured away from home. Life has been very hectic since Taylor has arrived, and with Chris logging about 60 hours each week at work, last night’s wedding was a great break from our monotonous grind. Just the ride out there was fun. I miss taking road trips with my husband. It brought me back to college days - Driving from Iowa City to the farm or up to Wisconsin. Blaring the music, rehashing memories and having uninterrupted conversations. It was nice to relive that for our 45-minute drive to the wedding yesterday - But with the music at a reasonable level, as not to wake the baby. Man. We’re getting old.
And since Chris ironed his shirt on Friday night, I was able to spend most of the day coordinating Taylor and my outfits to match. Because I had the time, because I knew we would get a picture and because I wanted us to look like one of those cute, matching families in the magazines. And since Chris only had about three minutes to change and shower between work and leaving, he was unaware that we looked like a family band until we got to the wedding. And every time someone took our picture and commented about us matching, he looked at me like, Seriously. I’m so making you listen to sports talk radio the whole ride home.
Not only was it wonderful to celebrate the new Mr. & Mrs. Muri, but it was the first time that just Chris, Taylor and I had ventured away from home. Life has been very hectic since Taylor has arrived, and with Chris logging about 60 hours each week at work, last night’s wedding was a great break from our monotonous grind. Just the ride out there was fun. I miss taking road trips with my husband. It brought me back to college days - Driving from Iowa City to the farm or up to Wisconsin. Blaring the music, rehashing memories and having uninterrupted conversations. It was nice to relive that for our 45-minute drive to the wedding yesterday - But with the music at a reasonable level, as not to wake the baby. Man. We’re getting old.
And since Chris ironed his shirt on Friday night, I was able to spend most of the day coordinating Taylor and my outfits to match. Because I had the time, because I knew we would get a picture and because I wanted us to look like one of those cute, matching families in the magazines. And since Chris only had about three minutes to change and shower between work and leaving, he was unaware that we looked like a family band until we got to the wedding. And every time someone took our picture and commented about us matching, he looked at me like, Seriously. I’m so making you listen to sports talk radio the whole ride home.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Do these pants make me look fat?
I think these pants are starting to cut-off circulation. Time to upgrade to the six-month clothes. Or invest in some baby-spanks.
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