Thursday, March 18, 2010

Thinking about food over here....

Hi everyone!

You can find me at the Chicago Moms Blog today - read over there if you like!

Monday, March 15, 2010

Home Depot

Our Big Talker sometimes has trouble closing his mouth and getting himself ready to go somewhere.  For anyone who knows our family, this sounds familiar, doesn't it?  We are genetically hardwired as talkers.  Poor Big T is also saddled with a significant amount of Irish blood, which consequently puts him on "Irish Time."  Irish Time is a danger to all things punctual.  And believe me, the Talker and I both struggle with punctual.

Getting ready for school the other day, I decided that urging him with sound bytes rather than full on directions was the way to go.  He needed to get his shoes on so we could make it to school on time, but he couldn't do the shoes AND tell me about the diet of a gigantosaurus at the same time.  (Geez, Mom!)  I was getting flustered trying to twart Irish Time for the 483rd time that week.  It was only Tuesday.

The short conversation went like this:

"Less talking, more DOING, buddy."
"More doing, Mom. That's the power of the Home Depot."

Irish Time be damned; unintentional preschooler humor wins again!

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Signs of Her Times

A few days from now, our Rosie will be a whopping eight months old.  How this happened, I am not so sure.  She presented quite a challenge early on - not sleeping well and acting generally uncomfortable for several months.  Turns out she has acid reflux, and though I don't love giving her Zantac twice a day, it certainly does help.  The Runner (aka Daddy) remarked how he felt like he just didn't know her - which he attributed (at first) to his crazy work and travel schedule.  I assured him that we were all still getting to know each other - she was still brand new! 

But the truth was that I felt like I couldn't get to know her either.  She cried so much - and my heart broke over and over because it was clear she was hurting.  Add that to some long, lonely nights as the only adult in the house trying to console an inconsolable baby, and I didn't have a lot of energy left over for socializing with my new baby girl.  Despite all this, I still felt like she wanted to communicate with me.  From the moment she arrived, I've felt like she's about to open her mouth to say, "hey Mom! I have stuff to tell you!"  There's just this look on her expressive, when it wasn't twisted up in a grunt or a sob.

Within a few days of starting the Zantac, however, things started looking up.  Miss Rosie slept for longer stretches and smiled a lot more.  She puked less (note that I am not referring to spit up here) and wanted to socialize and explore more, too.  Now I'm emerging from a sleeplessness fog and counting the months...and we're up to eight!

She is feeding herself Cheerios, bananas, avocadoes, and pizza crust!  She even drank some children's herbal tea yesterday from a sippy cup.  She's one knee short of full-on crawling, and we have no gates!  Between all of these developments and her lovely, silly personality, this girl has completely blindsided us.  It's time, I realize, to start signing with her, to give her will to communicate a "voice."

She sits in her high chair with her Gerber puffs or her Cheerios, and I ask her over and over, "More? Do you want more?" while tapping my fingertips together in the sign for more. "More to eat?"  Fingertips together, fingertips to mouth.  The Talker is in on the game, too.  His welcome-to-the-world gift to his sister was a baby book about signing.  He remembers most of the signs he learned - still signing "please" when he's especially tired.  If I need to tell him something at a playdate, I can surreptitiously sign it on the DL, and he responds immediately.  This does not always happen when I speak to him.  In fact, his MO is to ignore me most of the time!

Looking back, I'll admit that I don't really remember when he said his first word.  Could that be because it was "Daddy"?  Perhaps.  I'm not ruling that out.  But I definitely remember his first sign.  He was about nine and a half months old, and he made the sign for "more" while sitting in his high chair.  It was awesome.  There is something especially intimate about signing with your kids - you really need to be paying attention to each other to understand what is being communicated.  Especially if you want to catch that first sign.