I was immediately suspicious.
Of course.
She loves her monkey almost as much as she loves sitting in boxes!
Friday, January 31, 2014
Friday Picture Post
I was immediately suspicious.
Of course.
She loves her monkey almost as much as she loves sitting in boxes!
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Nightmare
I had a nightmare last night that jolted me awake from fear:
I looked up from the bed in the middle of the night and Lois, who had been safely put to bed in her crib, was walking through the doorway.
...
That's the whole dream.
It was heart-thumpingly terrifying.
I looked up from the bed in the middle of the night and Lois, who had been safely put to bed in her crib, was walking through the doorway.
...
That's the whole dream.
It was heart-thumpingly terrifying.
 |
| "I don't get it, daddy. Sounds like a good dream!" |
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Vignettes
Here are a few things that I couldn't justify as posts all on their own but still wanted to share:
As I mentioned before, Lois has been sick lately. Her stomach has been a bit upset. This morning we all went out for breakfast and thought she was okay so we gave her milk instead of the Pedialyte she's been getting.
It seems that she still seems to be in a little bit of gastrointestinal distress. She was crying for no apparent reason, right up until she farted on me, loudly and several times. The tears stopped and she's happy now. She was giggling as she did it.
___
I was watching the little one eat some cheese and was amazed at how quickly it was disappearing. She was obviously happy with it and I could add Gouda to the list of foods she enjoys. I watched her happily, looked away for a moment, and when I looked back I saw that she was pulling her shirt out from her chest, looking down inside of it. While I watched she opened her mouth, spat out the cheese, closed the collar of her shirt and patted it back in place. I don't want to figure out how much cheese is in her shirt.
___
Me: "Lois, it's time for bed."
Lois: "NO!"
She then immediately got up from her spot on the floor and led me to her bedroom. I put her down without a sound.
___
Laura: "Lois, honey, please eat your food."
Lois: (Very clearly) "I don't like that!"
Both of us: "Okay then, you don't have to eat that."
We weren't going to force the child to eat it if it was so bad that it had an 18 month old talking in complete sentences. I don't even remember what it was but whatever it was, she didn't like it.
___
She just farted on me again while I wrote this and then laughed like a madman.
As I mentioned before, Lois has been sick lately. Her stomach has been a bit upset. This morning we all went out for breakfast and thought she was okay so we gave her milk instead of the Pedialyte she's been getting.
It seems that she still seems to be in a little bit of gastrointestinal distress. She was crying for no apparent reason, right up until she farted on me, loudly and several times. The tears stopped and she's happy now. She was giggling as she did it.
___
I was watching the little one eat some cheese and was amazed at how quickly it was disappearing. She was obviously happy with it and I could add Gouda to the list of foods she enjoys. I watched her happily, looked away for a moment, and when I looked back I saw that she was pulling her shirt out from her chest, looking down inside of it. While I watched she opened her mouth, spat out the cheese, closed the collar of her shirt and patted it back in place. I don't want to figure out how much cheese is in her shirt.
___
Me: "Lois, it's time for bed."
Lois: "NO!"
She then immediately got up from her spot on the floor and led me to her bedroom. I put her down without a sound.
___
Laura: "Lois, honey, please eat your food."
Lois: (Very clearly) "I don't like that!"
Both of us: "Okay then, you don't have to eat that."
We weren't going to force the child to eat it if it was so bad that it had an 18 month old talking in complete sentences. I don't even remember what it was but whatever it was, she didn't like it.
___
She just farted on me again while I wrote this and then laughed like a madman.
Me And The Baby
 |
| "What seems to be the problem, officer?" |
This morning I let the little one run around the house and play in the places that have been "baby-proofed."
She brought me two dirty diapers from her garbage can.
I can handle this. I've got this. Let's not tell mommy about the diapers.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Here Comes Trouble
This was followed by a young child squealing in laughter, then mommy's laughter.
Apparently, mommy had come upon the sight of the little one getting into the trashcan in her room (ew) and when she asked Lois what she was doing, Lois promptly turned, laughed, and tried to close the door in mommy's face.
She's learned how to open and close doors, knows exactly what she's not supposed to get into (as evidenced by how she gets into it), and is cute as a button.
I can't help but say, again: We are in so much trouble.
The Dreaded Blergh
We've all caught The Blergh here.
Some kind of stomach ick has hit our household pretty strongly. We all seem to be getting over it and will probably be healthy by tomorrow, just in time for Laura to fly to Chicago for her interview, but yesterday was definitely not a pretty day in our household.
I'm glad we're getting over it though; I have no idea what I would have done if Laura were going to the interview tomorrow and Lois and I were here, sick together. Yesterday I barely got out of bed. The Blergh hit strongly.
Even sick, Lois is a good baby. She cries more, and fusses, but so do I so we can't really blame her. She wants to be cuddled a lot and generally is quieter and less frenetic when she's not fussing. I can tell she's feeling better today though: She's throwing a fit because the spoons aren't spoony enough, not for no reason. The spoons aren't spoony enough.
I'm still a bit out of it. Better updates coming later. Lots of photos for this week's Friday Picture Post, and funny stories to share when I'm up to writing them.
Be good to each other!
Some kind of stomach ick has hit our household pretty strongly. We all seem to be getting over it and will probably be healthy by tomorrow, just in time for Laura to fly to Chicago for her interview, but yesterday was definitely not a pretty day in our household.
I'm glad we're getting over it though; I have no idea what I would have done if Laura were going to the interview tomorrow and Lois and I were here, sick together. Yesterday I barely got out of bed. The Blergh hit strongly.
Even sick, Lois is a good baby. She cries more, and fusses, but so do I so we can't really blame her. She wants to be cuddled a lot and generally is quieter and less frenetic when she's not fussing. I can tell she's feeling better today though: She's throwing a fit because the spoons aren't spoony enough, not for no reason. The spoons aren't spoony enough.
I'm still a bit out of it. Better updates coming later. Lots of photos for this week's Friday Picture Post, and funny stories to share when I'm up to writing them.
Be good to each other!
Sunday, January 26, 2014
They Don't Tell You
Something other parents fail to mention when you're a new parent is that your child will have you completely, 100% convinced that they are dying.
Oh, your friends with children will say "She was screaming like somebody was murdering her!" They'll laugh as though it's a joke, you'll chuckle and think that it can't possibly be that bad since the friend is laughing about it. No big deal, right?
Wrong.
The laugh from your friend is a lie. An utter, bald-faced, lie.
Your child will scream at 11:30 PM with a high-pitched shriek that you only ever hear in horror movies. There will be something primal to it, a scream of such horribleness that it could only be born of pure terror and pain. Your child is dying. You'll be sure of it.
Except that you were sure of it the 4 other times you already checked on her that night.
And the 5 times the night before.
And the night before that.
Except then there was that one night. You thought she was just trying to get you to come in there, screaming like a murderer had crept into her room. She kept on for over half an hour so you thought "I'll just go look in on her and see how she is."
Her leg was caught between the slats on her bed and her body had twisted as she fought to free it. She must have been in terrible pain, and you let her be like that for the last half an hour.
Maybe that's happened again, now.
Maybe she's really in pain.
You need to go check on her to make sure it's not that again.
And of course it isn't. Her scream that has the neighbors calling CPS is just her trying to get you to come in to rock her until it's time to wake up. That'd be great, thanks daddy.
Oh, your friends with children will say "She was screaming like somebody was murdering her!" They'll laugh as though it's a joke, you'll chuckle and think that it can't possibly be that bad since the friend is laughing about it. No big deal, right?
Wrong.
The laugh from your friend is a lie. An utter, bald-faced, lie.
Your child will scream at 11:30 PM with a high-pitched shriek that you only ever hear in horror movies. There will be something primal to it, a scream of such horribleness that it could only be born of pure terror and pain. Your child is dying. You'll be sure of it.
Except that you were sure of it the 4 other times you already checked on her that night.
And the 5 times the night before.
And the night before that.
Except then there was that one night. You thought she was just trying to get you to come in there, screaming like a murderer had crept into her room. She kept on for over half an hour so you thought "I'll just go look in on her and see how she is."
Her leg was caught between the slats on her bed and her body had twisted as she fought to free it. She must have been in terrible pain, and you let her be like that for the last half an hour.
Maybe that's happened again, now.
Maybe she's really in pain.
You need to go check on her to make sure it's not that again.
And of course it isn't. Her scream that has the neighbors calling CPS is just her trying to get you to come in to rock her until it's time to wake up. That'd be great, thanks daddy.
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