The Baby Formerly Known As Optimus Prime

I am totally blanking on a blog topic for today but, I promised I would blog Tuesday/Thursday.  So I present to you the Top 5 Funny Sabine Stories.  In recent history.  Because I’m too lazy to do 10.

5. Sucker Punch

Sabine smacked me across the face the other night.  She wanted my laptop and I wouldn’t give it up.  I put her in time out.  Short time out, in the same room with me, sitting her down and telling her, “We don’t hit.  You sit here till you can be nice.”  Brandon gets her out of time out approximately 2.5 seconds later (Ok, maybe it was a minute, but whatever).  He says, “Sabine, are you going to stop hitting your Mommy now?”  Her reply?  “NOPE!” *sigh*

4. Having consumed massive quantities of coffee when I was pregnant with Sabine (Yeah, bad mommy.  Whatever.), she is quite familiar with the smell of the glorious French press in the morning.  Before she could talk, she would sit in the kitchen floor, pointing at the press, and crying.  Now the first thing she says to me when she wakes up is, “I want coffee.”  This is my fault.  Not that I actually GIVE her coffee, but I tend to say, “Here’s your coffee!” when I hand her the morning Foogo of milk.  I have to laugh a little to myself when a stranger asks her what’s in her Foogo and her response is “Coffee!  Num num!”

3. Speaking of “Num num”

While cooking dinner the other night I hear the unmistakable “Num num!” of a very satisfied toddler.  I turn around from the stove to find Sabine standing in front of the open freezer with a bag of tator tots.  And consuming them.  Um, yum.

2. Keeping Your Daughter Off the Pole

Took Sabine to the Youth Museum.  They have a great castle exhibit right now.  There’s a small “play” castle set up with levers and knobs the little one’s can turn.  Royal dolls and furniture in the towers.  Just a cool area.  Sabine makes her way into the castle where she finds a very cute little boy – maybe 3 years old.  He, very sweetly and shyly, says, “Hi.”  Sabine responds by lifting up her shirt to flash him.

1. The Dead Bunny

We awoke one morning last week to find a dead bunny in our yard.  Not a bunny the dogs had killed (thank God) but a random, dead bunny.  I’m guessing maybe he was hit by a car and hippity hopped his last hop into the yard to die.  I took Sabine outside and, upon seeing the bunny, she yelled “AWWW!  I wan kitty!”  (cause apparently kitties are bunnies).  I replied, “No, no.  That’s a bunny and bunny is sleeeeeeeping!  Let’s leave him alone” cause really, how do you explain a dead bunny to a 18 month old?  Brandon chimes in with “That bunny isn’t asleep, Sabine.  It’s dead.”  “DEAD!” she says.  Later that night Brandon falls asleep on the couch.  Sabine says, “Awww … Dad’s dead!”  Yeah.  Now I have to figure out that whole 18 month old explanation thing I’d so hoped to avoid.

Hey, heeeeeeeeeeeeeeey. Yeah. Please Jenn, don’t hurt ‘em. *Ahem*

Anyway – TBFKAOP has gone legit! I guess. I mean, at least this is how I *think* blogs go legit. You see – I want to go to Blogher next year. No, I WILL go to Blogher next year. That’s right. It’s a goal and stuff. So, in order to have a “real” blog I have purchased a domain. You can now get your TBFKAOP fix at http://tbfkaop.com.

You can also follow TBFKAOP on Twitter. It’s like a bloglett. A lot of times I think of something SUPER funny or weird or boring, I guess, that doesn’t fit into a post. So, I can put those things on Twitter now. Like the dead bunny! See – finding a dead bunny isn’t a great blog post. Especially when your toddler sees the dead bunny and goes, “AWWWW! Asleep!” and then wants to play with it. But it IS noteworthy so it gets Twittered. Or Tweeted. Or whatever the hell the cool kids call it. See how that works?

Now, I realize a real domain and Twitter account do not = a real blog so I guess I have to work on that who content and postiness issue as well. Since I’m not wrapped up in Polliwogged anymore I’ve decided to use my Polliwogged blogging days (Tuesday & Thursday) for TBFKAOP blogging. Hopefully I have something good to say on those days. If not, you’ll end up reading lots more posts like this.

*ETA – I’m totally cracking myself up because at first I had linked Obama’s Health Care Plan PDF as the new TBFKAOP.  YAY multi-tasking!

You may remember me blogging a while back about a Blog for which I was chosen to contribute – Polliwogged. Well, Polliwogged will soon be no more. I’ll leave it to Jeremiah to make the official announcement (coming sometime later this week – I think) but the end is near. It’s been a fun ride. I’m honored to have been part of such a neat project. The ZRecs Network will still be around so continue to check it out, for sure.

Ok, so that’s one era. The other? Breastfeeding. I’ve actually been meaning to blog about this for a while but I got side tracked with the Scarlet Fever and Big Barks and whatnot. Sabine *gasp* self-weaned about a month and a half ago. It started with her dsleeping through the night, then dropping her morning nursing session, then eventually the session before bed.

It was an altogether weird experience for me. The first night was good. I felt somewhat … free. I had a beer (or three) and went to bed. The second night was OK. The third night – I cried. I spent nearly 18 months defining my relationship with my child by this one thing that we shared. This one thing I could do for her that NO ONE else could. And now? Now we’re all equal. Mommy has nothing that Daddy doesn’t have. Well, except for maybe shaved legs and long hair. But, the Bean doesn’t care about those things.

So, now I have the girls back to myself … in their sad state. I never got those fantastic nursing boobs so it’s not like I had a lot of um, area to lose when Sabine weaned. It’s just that the texture is … different. Where my boobs once felt like they were full of pudding they now feel like they’re full of, hmmm, um, egg yolk. Yes. Egg yolk. And yes, I have been sitting here feeling my boobs in order to accurately describe their texture to you. Thank you very much.

There you have it (a letter opener) my era endings. Not very funny or thought provoking but it is what it is.

First of all I’d like to give a big “Woah” to the fact that The Bloggess commented on my Scarlet Fever post. I feel really super cool and all you people who read my blog should feel super cool to have been momentarily graced with her presence. Then you should go read her blog because what she’s blogging about is probably way better than what I’m going to blog about.

Second of all I’d like to say that Sabine is over her Scarlet Fever screaming and, well, the actual Scarlet Fever and stuff. No priest needed. You’re probably wondering about this “birth” stuff now, right?

Well, the “birth” to which I’m referring is more of an intellectual birth. No, wait. It’s not really intellectual at all. It’s fun and silly though. Hmmm. Ah, hell – We have a new dog board! And I didn’t really birth it myself but Holly insisted I blog about the new “baby” and saying that like, nine people gave birth to something at the same time seems a little weird so there you go.

I also hate using WordPress’ “QuickPress” because it makes my text squishy.

Anyway, you may remember a link somewhere over on the left to a dog forum for big dog lovers. That certain dog forum shall not be mentioned because ::insert creepy music:: it was bought by scamming dog training posers and all the Moderators resigned. The End. Sorta.

We, with the help of tech. savvy and smarter than us member Brandon (No, not my husband Brandon. A forum created by him would be um, interesting.) have created Big Barks! Which is really cool and everyone should hang out there. Even if you don’t have a big dog. We’ll still like you. Though, if you have a Chihuahua, Holly will never read your posts. Actually, even if you don’t have a Chihuahua she won’t read your posts because she isn’t thread ready. But, I’ll give her a breakdown if you say something cool, so there’s that.

If you’ve been living under a rock, or aren’t virtually chained to me through message boards, FaceBook, and/or email, you may not know that Sabine has Scarlet Fever. Scarlet Fever pretty much sucks. I’ve been wanting to blog about its suckitude but have been holding off until it’s GONE to fully encompass its wrath. You don’t REALLY want to read 5831908109 blog posts about SF do you? I didn’t think so.

While I’m waiting for this vile disease that has temporarily kidnapped my child to retreat I begin thinking of witty things to say about SF. It’s a virtual blogging goldmine with all its literary and cultural references – Oregon Trail, the Velveteen Rabbit, Little Women, etc. The problem is, a blogger has already beaten me to all of these references. A blogger who is also much wittier than I:

http://thebloggess.com/?p=2355

The worst part is that her blog followers are also wittier than I.

I realize, at this point, that I’d look like a big, fat copycat for using any of these references so I set out to find new ones of my own. You know when you find yourself Googling “Scarlet Fever in pop culture” (which, by the way, will give you results) you may have an issue. So, I admit defeat. But, at least I have a new blog to follow.

Anyway, I came upon this blog by Googling “Scarlet Fever screaming”. Because that’s what my child was doing – screaming. Not just any ol’ pissed off toddler screaming but deranged, psychotic, maniacal screaming. In the middle of the night. Out of a sound sleep. To the point that Brandon was wavering as to whether we should take her to the ER or call the priest. My solution, of course, was to Google. In my defense, I will say that I didn’t just sit down and read the funny blog post while my child screamed. I’m not THAT crappy of a Mom. Instead I bookmarked it for later and called the nurses’ line. See? I have common sense.

Anyway, we were told delusions and screaming were pretty common and not to worry unless they last for a prolonged period of time or caused muscle twitching (because apparently that can signal neurological involvement). Luckily, the screaming fits passed quickly. Unluckily, they passed by me having to lay in the middle of the living room floor with Sabine face down on my chest. It was the only way she’d be quiet. Makes for a fun night.

We’ve spent half of two nights sleeping in the middle of the living room floor. I hope to all things Holy that tonight is different. If not, I really may have to call the priest. That’s the extent of my Scarlet Fever story. I wish I had a better ending but we’re not through it, yet.

Stay tuned for an upcoming blog post where I tell you about my new baby. DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUN! That’s right. I’m not going to tell you now. I’m going to make you come back. That’s what I do – I keep you coming back for more. The old push ‘em out and pull ‘em in. Or something.

Last night I took a bath.  It was a nice bath … Sabine had been quite the pill all day and I needed to time to unwind.  Pre-Sabine I used to take long, hot baths in our jet tub.  I would light some candles, pour myself a glass of wine, and relax to whatever was the soulful music du jour.  Sometimes Brandon would join me and we’d have a romantical bath, complete with long discussions about our future and kissy faces.

Last night I took my bath in a jet-free, short tub.  When we moved we decided no more jet-tub for us.  I’m short and they’re deep.  Bathing a baby in one is practically impossible.  My short tub bath left me with cold boobs and a cold post c-section pooch.  I no longer have any candles in the house because they make my child sneeze so there was no flickering candle light.  Instead of music, the sounds I heard were Sabine banging on the bathroom door screaming, “Mama!  Where y’at?” and Brandon saying, “Peeeeu!  Did you poop?”  My drink?  Budweiser.  In a can.

And yet, this was likely the most relaxing bath ever.  I can’t remember a time when I NEEDED a bath quite as much as I did then and, although the soundtrack has changed, I love the “noise” that is my life.

I have no excuse for the crappy beer though.  You got me on that one.

My name is Humpty. Pronounced with an Umpty.

Check her profile for more … like here and here and here.  She’s apparently not well received but, screw it, I love her.  I have to say that I am categorically anti-troll … but not this one.  She made me snort on a morning where I really needed a good snort.  She reminds me of New Years and blue cake.  Thanks, goingplatinum, whoever you really may be.

I try not to judge other parents. Really. I try not to. I know a lot of my parenting choices are outside of the mainstream and judged so I try to not give that back. I do, however, admit that I judged the HELL out of some moms on Mother’s Day.

Mom at bunch – you told your eight year old to “sit (his) ass back down in the seat!” when he got up to throw away some garbage. You didn’t just slip up and curse around your kid. It wasn’t an “Oh, shit!” when he spilled his milk. You cussed directly AT him. And you did it in the middle of a crowded restaurant. On Mother’s Day. I judged you.

Missing mother of the 10 year old girl who’s jean skirt was so short I could see her undies at the park – your 10 year old girl’s jean skirt was so short I could see her undies. I judged you.

Missing mother of the boy who hit my daughter in the head with his bouncy ball at the park … twice – YOUR KID HIT MY KID IN THE HEAD WITH A BALL!!! TWICE! And you weren’t even there! I majorly judged you. I also judged your kid for being a big ol’ meanie, which in turn made me judge you again, for letting your kid be so mean.

I judged you all. It’s true. Watch your language, buy your daughter age appropriate clothing, and actually be PRESENT when your son is playing. Especially when he’s playing with toys that could hurt other, much smaller, children. Or else I’ll continue to judge. And blog about you. A lot.

Maybe. I’m blaming the Varicella vax for Sabine’s recent “I don’t want to sleep, I want to toss and turn and cry every hour!” stint. Varicella vax (VV) gets the blame because this particular stint started immediately after she received the shot and ended, promptly, last night when she STTN. Yes, at this point, one night = end. For me.

I’m also blaming VV for her runny nose as I noticed on rxlist.com that VV can cause “upper respiratory illness” and I refuse to believe that my child has seasonal allergies … even though Brandon and I both have seasonal allergies. And developed runny noses around the same time as her. Which are fixed with Zyrtec. And even though her pedi. thinks she probably has allergies. Yep, refuse to believe it!

Anyway, rxlist.com leads me to my WTF moment of the day. Click this:

http://www.rxlist.com/varivax-drug.htm

Scroll over to page three and check out the text below Table 1. VV can cause upper respiratory illness, disturbed sleep, diarrhea, blah, blah, blah, teething. Um, wait. Teething? Really? A vaccine can cause my child to produce TEETH? I thought that was like, nature. I guess I have been wildly misinformed.

Or, perhaps, I shouldn’t be consulting rxlist.com for my medical advice anymore.

I’m on the defensive. I fully admit it. Maybe I should start this way instead:

Hi, my name is Jenn and I bed share with my 15 month old.

There. I said it. Outright admitted it as if I were in some sort of 12 step program. Is that what co-sleeping has been driven to – secrecy and shamefulness? Maybe I should go back further … back to the beginning of loss of sleep as we know it.

I happily co-slept with Sabine when she was born. She was tiny. She slept better when I was near and I slept better when she was near. It was a mutually enjoyable arrangement. When she was two months old and I came back to work, I decided to transition her to the crib … because that’s what everyone told me I needed to do. Enter the worst two weeks of sleep in my life. My child, who had been sleeping in four hour blocks, started sleeping for four hours. Period. Starting at 3am. She also refused to sleep anywhere but her carseat and refused to fall asleep anywhere but in the car. As you can imagine, this meant driving around at 2am every night.

We spent the next month and a half concentrating really hard on developing a “routine” and, at four months, Sabine slept through the night. In her crib. Then at six months she stopped. At eight months I gave up on running between her room and ours 8 times per night. Brandon said, “Why don’t you just bring her to bed with us?” Because we can’t DO that! They say NOT to do that! “Who is ‘they’ and are ‘they’ her parents?!” he replied. He was right. He had me. They weren’t up with her 8 times per night and they weren’t calling the shots. So, it was into our bed she came.

We’ve had good spots and rough spots since then. Currently we’re in a good spot. A REALLY good spot. More than that I’ve *gasp* decided I really like having her in bed with me. I know immediately when she has a fever (which has been all too often this winter). I get snuggles for 10 hours a night that I miss out on while I’m at work. I’ve become a believer in night time parenting. And still … I don’t tell people often that we bedshare. It’s not PC, afterall. When I DO tell people that we bedshare I feel studied like some remote tribe … and I hear a lot of “You’ll never get her out of your bed! She’ll be sleeping there when she’s five!” My first thought is “No she won’t!” and then my second thought is … “So, what if she is?”

You hear these stories a lot, right? The stories about so-and-so’s best friend’s dog groomer’s daughter sleeping with her parents until college. You know why I think you hear these stories? It’s not that I don’t believe them … I totally do. But, I think you hear them so often because those who have success transitioning from co-sleeping at a reasonable age are embarrassed to admit that they ever co-slept in the first place. It’s become such a parenting no-no that it’s been forced underground. There’s a really interesting study by Keller & Goldberg that followed 83 families, both solitary sleepers and co-sleepers. The solitary sleepers slept better at night and weaned earlier. However, the co-sleepers were more “self-reliant” and showed “more social independence”. Do either of those things really sound so horrible for the child? Another study by Ball, Hooker & Kelly examines the strengthening of the bond between father and child through co-sleeping. Again, this is a bad thing?

The bottom line is – I think co-sleeping is normal. Not normal in the sense that EVERY family should do it but normal in the sense that it’s an OK thing to do, as long as everyone is happy with the arrangement, and normal in the sense that I believe many more people are doing it than what articles would like us to believe. Or to what parents admit. In the past year I’ve learned that sometimes babies wake up at night … and that’s OK. I’ve learned that one of the best things in the world is to wake up next to your smiling baby. I’ve learned that it’s easier to comfort a sick/hurting/scared infant who’s next to you than it is to comfort one down the hall. I’ve learned that our family may not follow the “rules”, but we sure are happy. We may not have the best sleep track record of any family out there either but I wouldn’t change anything we’ve done. I won’t change anything we’re doing for future babies either. Actually, that’s not true. I will change one thing … I won’t attempt to crib transition at all next time. We’ll be exclusive co-sleepers from the beginning.

If you’d rather read something less rambly about co-sleeping, check out this link!