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rivkaI had intended to keep on doing occasional day-in-the-life entries about my minute-to-minute experience of parenthood, but suddenly it seems to have been five months since the last one. Things have changed a bit.
4:45am: I hear crying on the baby monitor and haul myself out of bed. I stagger through the bedroom and the study, and by the time I put my foot on the attic stairs there is silence above. I figure that it can't be much longer before she's awake for real, though, so I head on upstairs and lie down on the futon in her room. I am instantly asleep.
5:15: Baby's awake for real. I mix a 6oz bottle, flip her onto her back in the crib, and feed her. Our new sleep regime involves not picking the baby up. She sucks the bottle down, eyes closed, but shows a tendency to whimper once it's gone. I pat her back soothingly.
5:35: She appears to be asleep. I tiptoe downstairs and go to the bathroom. She starts crying. Back upstairs for more soothing back-patting.
5:55: I try to go downstairs again, and she starts crying again. Ordinarily, the rule is that at 6am we give up on sleep and bring Alex downstairs to play. But she just seems so very very sleepy. As soon as I put my hand on her, she closes her eyes. She's not ready to get up.
6:05: Baby fast asleep. I lie down on the futon and fall asleep myself.
6:50: Alex is awake, happy and talking to herself. She's delighted to see me and gives me a big welcome when I lift her out of the crib.
6:55: I quote directly from my notes: diaper OMG!
7:00: I put Alex on the floor to play. Here's what playing looks like these days: she immediately crawls to her stacking rings and de-stacks them. Then she moves on to her shape sorter and takes all the shapes out of it, banging two of them together a few times. Next up, the inflatable ball. She waves it around, slaps it repeatedly with her hand, and then starts hitting different things with it to see how the sound changes: the TV! her jingle bells! her lap! She also tries to chew the valve off.
7:30: We have a polite dispute about whether Firefly DVDs are a baby toy or not. I decide it's time for her breakfast and strap her into the highchair. On today's menu: a jar of pureed pears and raspberries, and about 1/3 cup of oatmeal.
7:48: We finish the part of breakfast where I'm spooning food into her mouth. I put the kettle on and wash up the overnight bottles and Alex's breakfast dishes while it boils. Alex gets a handful of Cheerios to keep her occupied. As soon as the dishes are done, I get some Cheerios too.
8:05: We're both done with breakfast. I finish cleaning up and assault Alex brutally with a washcloth. She screams in protest. Where is Amnesty International when they're really needed?
8:10: I comb the remnants of breakfast out of Alex's hair and get her dressed for church: purple shirt, purple flowered jumper, pants to keep her legs warm, socks and shoes.
8:15: Time to play. Haul her away from the splinter-and-paint-chip-laden hollow by the door, where the floor has settled. She emits piercing screams. I play with the shape sorter with her. She likes to knock down towers I build with the shapes.
8:35: Haul her away from the hole by the door again. Read stories.
8:45: Leave her playing with her books and drink some of my now-lukewarm tea. Read a little bit of The Moor by Laurie King.
9:00: Suspect that the increasingly fractious baby is ready for morning nap. Mix her a 4oz bottle, slip her into the sling, and feed her the bottle. Her eyes slam shut.
9:15: Baby sleeping. Alternate reading and dozing.
10:00: We both wake up. Spend a few minutes chatting with Michael about the night. Usually Sunday mornings are his turn to wake up with the baby, but yesterday morning at 6am I begged him to trade.
10:10: I go upstairs to shower and get ready for church, and instead am sucked into LJ.
10:20: Holy cow, we need to leave for church in about twenty minutes. World's fastest shower.
10:35: Fully dressed and ready. Finish packing up the diaper bag, which Michael has begun. Get Alex into her snowsuit the only way that the task can currently be accomplished without crying, which is: "We put your right foot in, don't take your right foot out! We put your right foot in, and we shake it all about. We do the hokey pokey and we put your snowsuit on - that's what it's all about!"
10:40: Leave for church.
10:50: Arrive at church and discover that the head usher isn't there this morning. Because it's a holiday weekend, apparently. In fact, there are no ushers there at all, but some people have stepped in. Be quietly mortified and irritated, in equal parts. Take over the head usher job and draft additional ushers as they walk unsuspectingly into the church.
11:05: The service begins. Mmm, church. Cry during the child dedication. Strain my voice singing very loudly indeed during "Lift Every Voice and Sing." Sit with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
telerib after my ushering duties are over.
12:20: The service is over. Go to the nursery to pick up Alex. She's sitting on the laps of two of our friends who don't usually belong in the nursery, but apparently came in to visit Alex. As soon as she sees me she starts to hold her arms out and cry, but the nursery staff assure me that she was totally fine the whole time. Ha. Change her diaper. She screams until she turns purple, until a 4-year-old boy comes over to talk quietly to her and distract her. Yay, boy.
12:30: There's an important after-church meeting in the sanctuary, with lunch. Dump Alex's toys in a corner and attempt to eat some lunch while corraling a terribly excited baby. People keep coming by to admire her. I had imagined that she'd want to crawl up and down the aisles, which would've been fine, but instead she wants to climb up my body and grab my lunch. Repeatedly. Mix her a 6oz bottle, of which she takes some.
1:00: Attempt to attend the meeting while corraling an excited baby. Another mother has brought two toddlers. Alex thinks they're the best ever, except when she's trying to snatch her toys out of their hands. Somewhere along the line, she discovers that the sanctuary has lovely acoustics for screeching. I try to simultaneously keep her quiet and focus on the challenges of making the transition from a pastoral-size church to a program-size church.
1:15: I take Alex to the back of the church in hopes that I can get her to nap. She finishes her bottle, and then protests vociferously until I give up on the nap idea.
2:00: Michael and I bail on the meeting. We decide that I will go to Target while he takes the baby home to nap.
2:10: Buttherealjae is in IM!!!! This is a rare occasion!!! The hell with Target.
2:25:therealjae persuades me that I had better carry on with my obligations, so I head out to Target. Grumble grumble grumble.
2:35: I finish fueling the car. Damn, gas is expensive.
2:55: I arrive at Target and fall into my customary Target hypnosis, in which I suddenly discover that I need many more things than I intended to buy. Discover, to my amazement, that they've added two aisles of high-quality wooden imaginative toys alongside all of the pink sparkly hypergendered crap. Resist buying any of it, but only because Alex is too young. In addition to the things on my list (nonslip rubber mat for bathtub, clips to hold food bags shut, 1-quart saucepan, diapers, formula), buy a 9x13" cake pan, a cookie sheet, a brown microsuede throw for the living room couch, a set of jumbo crayons, and a rubber duckie that fits over the tub spout and keeps the baby from cracking her tiny little head open when she flings herself about the bathtub.
3:35: Leave Target.
3:55: Adjust the carseat straps to the next higher level, which I've been meaning to do for weeks.
4:00: Come home to discover that Alex is juuuust waking up from her nap. Show off my loot. Alex enjoys playing with the bathmat, the tag from the throw, and the protective duck thingy.
4:20: I change her diaper. She seems a little fussy, so we try a bottle. She sucks down an ounce as if she were starving, and then totally loses interest and wants to play. Alternately play on the floor with her and read my book.
4:50: I want to cut her nails, and so we try an experiment. A week or so ago, I turned on Blue's Clues to keep her distracted while I cut her nails. She seemed to be frighteningly taken with the brief, five-minute glimpse she got of the show, so I decided to tape an episode to see if it really did have an unholy power over her. (It's not that I want her to watch TV regularly, but sometimes there are days when you really, really need a 30-minute break.) The experiment is terrifying. The instant the theme music starts, Alex crows and claps her hands. She talks to the TV. She crawls over, stands up against the media unit, and touches the things that appear onscreen. She does play a little while the show is on, but mostly? It's all about Blue's Clues. At least I get her nails cut, but the price seems a bit shocking.
5:15: The experiment is over. The whole family plays together on the floor - lots of rough-and-tumble hoisting and tickling and clambering. I discover that, with Michael, Alex does not "play airplane:" she does "aerial reconnaissance."
5:45: Time for some dinner - she seems hungry. I strap her into the highchair and give her some pieces of sweet potato and some pieces of cooked pear. She makes an enormous mess, but eats quite a bit. We wash it down with a jar of organic "turkey vegetable dinner."
6:08: While Alex continues to toy with her solids, I put together a sherry vinaigrette for some tuna steaks.
6:15: Cleanup: the day's bottles, Alex's dinner dishes, the things I used to put the vinaigrette together. I wash her hands and face just enough that she can be carried upstairs without ruining anyone's clothing, and hand her off to her Papa for bathtime.
6:25: Mmmm, online. I e-mail my mother, read LJ, glance at the mothering.com forums. For the first time ever, I report someone to the moderators for being an asshole. (It's not that I've never seen assholes post in the forums before, but this is the first time it's seemed like something the moderators would agree was assholery.)
6:50: Alex is done with her bath and back downstairs, clean and pajamaed. I read her a stack of stories, discussing, with Michael, whether she should go to bed later than usual because she had a late nap.
7:05: She seems fussy enough to merit bedtime, so we haul her upstairs. I settle into the rocker in her room and start giving her an 8oz bottle while Michael dims the lights and puts on her lullaby CD.
7:20: At this point, on a normal night, she would be fast asleep and I would be heading downstairs. She marks the occasion by singing "la la la" loudly and batting the bottle away.
7:30: I have gotten her into a semblance of calm, and try to put her in bed. Ha. After quite a bit of soothing and patting doesn't work, I try ignoring her and sitting nearby so that she can settle herself. She stands up, holds onto the rail, and crows delightedly. For quite some time. I try lying her down again. I try tearing all my hair out. This baby is never like this at bedtime anymore - what the hell is going on?
7:55: Michael comes up to take over. I go downstairs to the study and attempt to stop rending my hair.
8:10: Baby asleep. I go down to the kitchen and start some rice, reading my Laurie King novel while I cook.
8:29: The tuna steaks go onto the George Foreman grill, and some organic frozen peas go onto the stove. I try to heat up and reduce the leftover marinade to use as a sauce, but it seems to have too high an oil content. It just separates.
8:35: We sit down with our dinner, a couple of glasses of wine, and two episodes of Firefly. Yes, we know that we're the last two geeks on the planet to discover that show. Hush. We watch "The Train Job" and "Bushwacked."
10:10: "Bushwacked" has given me the heebie-jeebies in a major way. I go upstairs and poke around online for an hour before I can bring myself to go to bed.
11:15: Mmmm, bed. It turns out that Alex won't wake up until 5:15, so it won't be a bad night, either.
4:45am: I hear crying on the baby monitor and haul myself out of bed. I stagger through the bedroom and the study, and by the time I put my foot on the attic stairs there is silence above. I figure that it can't be much longer before she's awake for real, though, so I head on upstairs and lie down on the futon in her room. I am instantly asleep.
5:15: Baby's awake for real. I mix a 6oz bottle, flip her onto her back in the crib, and feed her. Our new sleep regime involves not picking the baby up. She sucks the bottle down, eyes closed, but shows a tendency to whimper once it's gone. I pat her back soothingly.
5:35: She appears to be asleep. I tiptoe downstairs and go to the bathroom. She starts crying. Back upstairs for more soothing back-patting.
5:55: I try to go downstairs again, and she starts crying again. Ordinarily, the rule is that at 6am we give up on sleep and bring Alex downstairs to play. But she just seems so very very sleepy. As soon as I put my hand on her, she closes her eyes. She's not ready to get up.
6:05: Baby fast asleep. I lie down on the futon and fall asleep myself.
6:50: Alex is awake, happy and talking to herself. She's delighted to see me and gives me a big welcome when I lift her out of the crib.
6:55: I quote directly from my notes: diaper OMG!
7:00: I put Alex on the floor to play. Here's what playing looks like these days: she immediately crawls to her stacking rings and de-stacks them. Then she moves on to her shape sorter and takes all the shapes out of it, banging two of them together a few times. Next up, the inflatable ball. She waves it around, slaps it repeatedly with her hand, and then starts hitting different things with it to see how the sound changes: the TV! her jingle bells! her lap! She also tries to chew the valve off.
7:30: We have a polite dispute about whether Firefly DVDs are a baby toy or not. I decide it's time for her breakfast and strap her into the highchair. On today's menu: a jar of pureed pears and raspberries, and about 1/3 cup of oatmeal.
7:48: We finish the part of breakfast where I'm spooning food into her mouth. I put the kettle on and wash up the overnight bottles and Alex's breakfast dishes while it boils. Alex gets a handful of Cheerios to keep her occupied. As soon as the dishes are done, I get some Cheerios too.
8:05: We're both done with breakfast. I finish cleaning up and assault Alex brutally with a washcloth. She screams in protest. Where is Amnesty International when they're really needed?
8:10: I comb the remnants of breakfast out of Alex's hair and get her dressed for church: purple shirt, purple flowered jumper, pants to keep her legs warm, socks and shoes.
8:15: Time to play. Haul her away from the splinter-and-paint-chip-laden hollow by the door, where the floor has settled. She emits piercing screams. I play with the shape sorter with her. She likes to knock down towers I build with the shapes.
8:35: Haul her away from the hole by the door again. Read stories.
8:45: Leave her playing with her books and drink some of my now-lukewarm tea. Read a little bit of The Moor by Laurie King.
9:00: Suspect that the increasingly fractious baby is ready for morning nap. Mix her a 4oz bottle, slip her into the sling, and feed her the bottle. Her eyes slam shut.
9:15: Baby sleeping. Alternate reading and dozing.
10:00: We both wake up. Spend a few minutes chatting with Michael about the night. Usually Sunday mornings are his turn to wake up with the baby, but yesterday morning at 6am I begged him to trade.
10:10: I go upstairs to shower and get ready for church, and instead am sucked into LJ.
10:20: Holy cow, we need to leave for church in about twenty minutes. World's fastest shower.
10:35: Fully dressed and ready. Finish packing up the diaper bag, which Michael has begun. Get Alex into her snowsuit the only way that the task can currently be accomplished without crying, which is: "We put your right foot in, don't take your right foot out! We put your right foot in, and we shake it all about. We do the hokey pokey and we put your snowsuit on - that's what it's all about!"
10:40: Leave for church.
10:50: Arrive at church and discover that the head usher isn't there this morning. Because it's a holiday weekend, apparently. In fact, there are no ushers there at all, but some people have stepped in. Be quietly mortified and irritated, in equal parts. Take over the head usher job and draft additional ushers as they walk unsuspectingly into the church.
11:05: The service begins. Mmm, church. Cry during the child dedication. Strain my voice singing very loudly indeed during "Lift Every Voice and Sing." Sit with
telerib after my ushering duties are over.12:20: The service is over. Go to the nursery to pick up Alex. She's sitting on the laps of two of our friends who don't usually belong in the nursery, but apparently came in to visit Alex. As soon as she sees me she starts to hold her arms out and cry, but the nursery staff assure me that she was totally fine the whole time. Ha. Change her diaper. She screams until she turns purple, until a 4-year-old boy comes over to talk quietly to her and distract her. Yay, boy.
12:30: There's an important after-church meeting in the sanctuary, with lunch. Dump Alex's toys in a corner and attempt to eat some lunch while corraling a terribly excited baby. People keep coming by to admire her. I had imagined that she'd want to crawl up and down the aisles, which would've been fine, but instead she wants to climb up my body and grab my lunch. Repeatedly. Mix her a 6oz bottle, of which she takes some.
1:00: Attempt to attend the meeting while corraling an excited baby. Another mother has brought two toddlers. Alex thinks they're the best ever, except when she's trying to snatch her toys out of their hands. Somewhere along the line, she discovers that the sanctuary has lovely acoustics for screeching. I try to simultaneously keep her quiet and focus on the challenges of making the transition from a pastoral-size church to a program-size church.
1:15: I take Alex to the back of the church in hopes that I can get her to nap. She finishes her bottle, and then protests vociferously until I give up on the nap idea.
2:00: Michael and I bail on the meeting. We decide that I will go to Target while he takes the baby home to nap.
2:10: But
therealjae is in IM!!!! This is a rare occasion!!! The hell with Target.2:25:
therealjae persuades me that I had better carry on with my obligations, so I head out to Target. Grumble grumble grumble.2:35: I finish fueling the car. Damn, gas is expensive.
2:55: I arrive at Target and fall into my customary Target hypnosis, in which I suddenly discover that I need many more things than I intended to buy. Discover, to my amazement, that they've added two aisles of high-quality wooden imaginative toys alongside all of the pink sparkly hypergendered crap. Resist buying any of it, but only because Alex is too young. In addition to the things on my list (nonslip rubber mat for bathtub, clips to hold food bags shut, 1-quart saucepan, diapers, formula), buy a 9x13" cake pan, a cookie sheet, a brown microsuede throw for the living room couch, a set of jumbo crayons, and a rubber duckie that fits over the tub spout and keeps the baby from cracking her tiny little head open when she flings herself about the bathtub.
3:35: Leave Target.
3:55: Adjust the carseat straps to the next higher level, which I've been meaning to do for weeks.
4:00: Come home to discover that Alex is juuuust waking up from her nap. Show off my loot. Alex enjoys playing with the bathmat, the tag from the throw, and the protective duck thingy.
4:20: I change her diaper. She seems a little fussy, so we try a bottle. She sucks down an ounce as if she were starving, and then totally loses interest and wants to play. Alternately play on the floor with her and read my book.
4:50: I want to cut her nails, and so we try an experiment. A week or so ago, I turned on Blue's Clues to keep her distracted while I cut her nails. She seemed to be frighteningly taken with the brief, five-minute glimpse she got of the show, so I decided to tape an episode to see if it really did have an unholy power over her. (It's not that I want her to watch TV regularly, but sometimes there are days when you really, really need a 30-minute break.) The experiment is terrifying. The instant the theme music starts, Alex crows and claps her hands. She talks to the TV. She crawls over, stands up against the media unit, and touches the things that appear onscreen. She does play a little while the show is on, but mostly? It's all about Blue's Clues. At least I get her nails cut, but the price seems a bit shocking.
5:15: The experiment is over. The whole family plays together on the floor - lots of rough-and-tumble hoisting and tickling and clambering. I discover that, with Michael, Alex does not "play airplane:" she does "aerial reconnaissance."
5:45: Time for some dinner - she seems hungry. I strap her into the highchair and give her some pieces of sweet potato and some pieces of cooked pear. She makes an enormous mess, but eats quite a bit. We wash it down with a jar of organic "turkey vegetable dinner."
6:08: While Alex continues to toy with her solids, I put together a sherry vinaigrette for some tuna steaks.
6:15: Cleanup: the day's bottles, Alex's dinner dishes, the things I used to put the vinaigrette together. I wash her hands and face just enough that she can be carried upstairs without ruining anyone's clothing, and hand her off to her Papa for bathtime.
6:25: Mmmm, online. I e-mail my mother, read LJ, glance at the mothering.com forums. For the first time ever, I report someone to the moderators for being an asshole. (It's not that I've never seen assholes post in the forums before, but this is the first time it's seemed like something the moderators would agree was assholery.)
6:50: Alex is done with her bath and back downstairs, clean and pajamaed. I read her a stack of stories, discussing, with Michael, whether she should go to bed later than usual because she had a late nap.
7:05: She seems fussy enough to merit bedtime, so we haul her upstairs. I settle into the rocker in her room and start giving her an 8oz bottle while Michael dims the lights and puts on her lullaby CD.
7:20: At this point, on a normal night, she would be fast asleep and I would be heading downstairs. She marks the occasion by singing "la la la" loudly and batting the bottle away.
7:30: I have gotten her into a semblance of calm, and try to put her in bed. Ha. After quite a bit of soothing and patting doesn't work, I try ignoring her and sitting nearby so that she can settle herself. She stands up, holds onto the rail, and crows delightedly. For quite some time. I try lying her down again. I try tearing all my hair out. This baby is never like this at bedtime anymore - what the hell is going on?
7:55: Michael comes up to take over. I go downstairs to the study and attempt to stop rending my hair.
8:10: Baby asleep. I go down to the kitchen and start some rice, reading my Laurie King novel while I cook.
8:29: The tuna steaks go onto the George Foreman grill, and some organic frozen peas go onto the stove. I try to heat up and reduce the leftover marinade to use as a sauce, but it seems to have too high an oil content. It just separates.
8:35: We sit down with our dinner, a couple of glasses of wine, and two episodes of Firefly. Yes, we know that we're the last two geeks on the planet to discover that show. Hush. We watch "The Train Job" and "Bushwacked."
10:10: "Bushwacked" has given me the heebie-jeebies in a major way. I go upstairs and poke around online for an hour before I can bring myself to go to bed.
11:15: Mmmm, bed. It turns out that Alex won't wake up until 5:15, so it won't be a bad night, either.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-01-17 04:36 am (UTC)Oh. My. God. I can't believe I still remember that. I can also identify all three Powerpuff Girls. Bad Mommy.
On a more, ahem, adult note, that church transition you are undergoing is a tough one -- exciting and wonderful, but tough.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-17 02:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-17 05:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-17 06:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-17 06:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-17 05:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-17 06:07 am (UTC)In our household, we do strafing runs at the dog, and drop bombs over the sofa.
Yay for Firefly!
Date: 2006-01-17 06:18 am (UTC)And, as
no subject
Date: 2006-01-17 08:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-17 02:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-17 08:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-17 10:46 am (UTC)-J
no subject
Date: 2006-01-17 02:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-17 07:40 pm (UTC)1) To me, the stuff in that post would exhaust me far, far more than running a campaign.
2) I'm sick, so today I get to lie in bed. :-)
-J