Nov

29

By CinnamonOpus

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Categories: Everyday Life Stuff

100 Good Wishes Quilt: Squares #3 and #4

Our 3rd and 4th squares come to us courtesy of Stinkerbelle’s Auntie Sandy and Uncle Jeff.

Sandra and Jeff’s Quilt Square 1

Sandra and Jeff’s Quilt Square 2

I am not sure which one is from whom, but we love them BOTH, squares and people alike.

Stinkerbelle’s first visitors on her arrival from Ethiopia were her Auntie Sandy and her Uncle Jeff. They are, like many of the people in her life, not her auntie and uncle in the traditional sense. But they ARE her auntie and uncle in that they are people who are very close to our family, who love her unconditionally and have waited with great anticipation for her arrival.

They already have spoiled her and have taken great care of her Mom and Dad. Auntie Sandy has been totally cool with being barfed on. Stinkerbelle and Uncle Jeff share a mutual love of the oatmeal (or at least he is diplomatic enough to tell her that when that is what is on offer for her dinner). She knows they are hers, to boss about and cuddle up to and laugh with, and they are cool with that.

They have not sent along their wishes yet, but that is okay. They are not only possessors of teh coolest names in the universe, but they are also two of our dearest friends. So, you know, I am expecting we’ll see them again. :)

Nov

28

By CinnamonOpus

6 Comments

Categories: Blogs, Everyday Life Stuff

Memory Loss

We all get older. And with that, our memories tend to fail.

Well, I am here to tell you…. the same thing happens with computers, man.

Were you here looking for me the last couple of days? Because if you DID come here, you were probably staring at the middle of a great big empty.

Sometime around midnight Wednesday, our creaky old server finally bought the farm. Yes, that’s right: to paraphrase my beloved Monty Python (with obvious apologies), it’s passed on! This server is no more! It has ceased to be! It’s expired and gone to meet its maker! It’s a stiff! Bereft of life, it rests in peace! Its mechanical processes are now history! It’s off the twig! It’s kicked the bucket! It’s shuffled off its mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin’ choir invisible!! THIS IS AN EX-SERVER!!

So, yeah. The thing died. And with it, so did all our blogs and websites, and our email server.

EEP.

I found it early Thursday morning, and let BDH know. Now BDH is brilliant with computers, really brilliant. He can fix almost anything that breaks around here, computer-wise, and as you know, computers are our main source of entertainment; hence, he has earned the nickname Big Damn Hero. So, a quick diagnosis on his part determined the memory in the machine had finally died, and it was expensive, and we were NOT going to pay to replace it in such an old machine.

But that left us with the dilemma of what to do to get our virtual life back up and running again.

Last night, we proceeded to take bits and pieces out of the server, and tried to McGyver them on to BDH’s existing machine. Now, that thing is already resembling a house that had too many renos done on it — it once was a cute little cottage, then we added a sunroom, then we added an extra bathroom, then a second storey, then….

But the computer was having NONE OF IT.

So BDH got more frustrated and more determined. He began copying files from the two main drives we had salvaged from the server onto his computer’s hard drive. And when I went to bed last night sometime around 11, he was still at it.

I woke up this morning at 6:15, showered, got the baby up… and while I was getting Stinkerbelle up, BDH appeared at the door of her room.

He told me she Stinkerbelle had been up around 3:30 for a bottle and a diaper change. Which was convenient, because he was just going to bed at that time.

He’d been up half the night, but he had gotten our blogs back up and running. This was no mean feat, I can tell you. AND he upgraded this one while he was at it.

So we still have no email server, and we will probably just let that go. It’s too much of a hassle. We haven’t decided for sure yet, so if you are looking to reach me by email, you can use my gmail address (which is, of course, cinnamonopus) for the time being.

And every time you visit here, be sure to give a mental “Huzzah!” to BDH and his technical wizardry. He really IS our Big Damn Hero.

Nov

26

By CinnamonOpus

2 Comments

Categories: Everyday Life Stuff

How Do They KNOW?

Are babies PSYCHIC or something? How do they KNOW?

How do they know:

  • …that you have just gotten yourself nice and warm and settled into bed before they begin to cry and wake for a bottle?
  • …that you have just gotten them dressed for the day in something nice, because you are going out, before they barf all over themselves?
  • …that they can take a bib off just five seconds before they spit up in spectacular fashion?
  • …that you have woken up especially early to get a shower before they decide to sleep an hour later than usual?
  • …that you have just gotten into the thick of preparing dinner when they feel the need to cry inconsolably?
  • …that this is your last clean t-shirt before they barf all over you?
  • …that you are nice and clean and showered (for a change) before they spit food all over you?
  • …that you have just started filling the washer to do a much-needed load of laundry before they begin to cry?
  • …that you have just put a clean diaper on them, because you have plans to go grocery shopping, before they have a monumental poop?
  • …that you have just settled into your comfy chair with your laptop before they wake up from a nap?

Those babies have some sort of mind-reading capabilities, I tell you. Otherwise, how would they know:

  • …that they should do something really CUTE, just when you are getting frustrated?
  • …that they have the most adorable cuddle in the world, when you are having a really rough day?
  • …that they should just give you a big grin, and suddenly the rest of the world goes away for a few minutes?
  • …that looking down at them napping on your chest will make you realize they are the best thing to ever happen to you?

It’s crazy how they know all this stuff.

Nov

25

By CinnamonOpus

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Categories: Everyday Life Stuff

Big Snow, Little Snow

You know that saying about big snow and little snow? “Big snow, little snow. Little snow, big snow.” Basically it means that if it’s snowing big fluffy flakes, you’ll only get a little accumulation, whereas if you get little bitty flakes, it’s going to pile up and stay.

Well, we’ve been getting a little bit of little snow for a few days now.

I hate little snow.

It’s true. I love the big, fluffy flakes. Some of my best memories are of big fluffy snow falling. You often get packing snow with big snow, and so you can go out and do fun stuff like make snowmen and such. Some of the prettiest scenes of winter for me are on days when you’ve got the big snow. It’s just a picture postcard type of snow.

Little snow, on the other hand, makes me nutty. A light dusting makes roads slick and driving treacherous. Little flakes in my headlights at night can be just short of hypnotizing. And it reminds me of a day full of drizzle — overcast and depressing.

And let’s not even go into accumulation. Because I hate Teh Snow, accumulation just means MORE of the hated stuff. And shoveling. Yuck.

Little snow and accumulation also means that Stinkerbelle and I tend to be stuck indoors more. I don’t like to drive in the snow on the best of days, and with a precious cargo, I am even less likely to venture out. And walking is not really possible if it’s really cold and the sidewalks are impassable. So I tend to be partial to the big snow, myself. Pretty, and doesn’t stay.

Yesterday was a mix of big snow and little snow. When Stinkerbelle and I set out to go to the grocery store, big wet fluffy flakes were falling. My hair got wet, the snow ws packing snow, the air was still… it was nice. When we got done in the grocery store, however, little snow was falling. It was colder and windy, and the roads were messy and slick.

And it’s snowing little snow right now. And like I said, it has been for the past few days.

I have a feeling it’s going to be another one of those winters.

Nov

24

By CinnamonOpus

7 Comments

Categories: Her Babyness

Big Girl Now

My little Stinkerbelle is growing so fast… she’s learning how to sit on her own.

It’s amazing what one can do when hypnotized by the television.

big girl now

Nov

22

By CinnamonOpus

1 Comment

Categories: Everyday Life Stuff, Her Babyness

How to Make Your Baby Cry

A quick lesson in how to make your 7-month-old scream in terror, and cry great sobs:

  • Take a shower.
  • Emerge from a shower with wet hair.
  • Wrap a towel around your wet hair.
  • Leave her sight for any period of time.
  • Turn your back on her and walk in another direction.
  • Wear something with a hood.
  • Wear a hat.
  • Pin your bangs back out of your eyes.

I feel like SUCH a horrible mom. But I HAVE to have a shower sometimes, or if I can’t and I have to go out in public, I HAVE to wear a hat. In winter, I’m going to have to wear a hat. And I have to walk from room to room sometimes to put away laundry, get things, whatever.

But then I hear her screaming in terror, huge choking sobs, hysterical crying, big fat tears rolling down her face…

I feel like the worst mother in the world. And that makes ME cry. Big tears of Mommy Guilt. Of making my baby cry. Of making her cry “on purpose” (although I don’t truly mean to do it, of course, but some people would say by just TRYING to do something like have a shower, on the off chance I can sneak it in, I am upsetting her on purpose). Of trying to get things done around the house in the course of a day. Of NOT getting things done in the course of a day. The Mommy Guilt is tremendous.

Then, after you try for an hour to calm a hysterical baby down, who by that time is just crying because she is crying… you feel guilty for getting frustrated and upset. And you cry a few more Mommy Guilt tears.

I knew there would be hard parts to this parenting gig. But having such a good-natured, happy baby, they just sort of sneak up on you, when you are unprepared. And then it feels worse, for making such a normally happy girl cry in terror.

But nothing is harder than having your daughter look at you and burst into tears. To have your daughter fear you, for some very slight change — but to her it is huge.

I know it’s just a phase, and it will pass. I know that all kids go through it — I went through it, even. But it makes things so very hard, for both of you, while you’re in it.

Nov

21

By CinnamonOpus

4 Comments

Categories: Everyday Life Stuff, Her Babyness

Sims2 Mommy Strikes Again

(If you’re not a Sims2 player or familiar with the game, I apologize if this post is a little cryptic.)

So, in the past I have remarked that, as a parent, I am finding myself faced with some striking similarities to a parent in Sims2. For example, but not limited to, having put my child down on the floor of the bathroom so I could get a shower. (Granted, she was on a play mat with a couple of toys, but STILL. How far a leap from that is it to putting a child down in the yard and going in and turning on the Yummy Channel on TV, I ask you? Or wandering off to dance the Smustle with bottles and diapers littering the floor?)

So, yes. I alarm myself sometimes when I think of the fine line between some of my Sims and real life.

Well, yesterday, I inched a little bit closer to that line.

I fed my daughter a bottle yesterday — holding her, mind you, not just setting her down on the floor to feed herself — and when she was done, I sat her beside me on the sofa with one of her toys to play a little bit. After a few minutes, I began to notice a scent. More like an aroma, actually, emanating from the other end of the couch. Had this really been Sims, there would have been a greenish cloud forming around my child.

Now, with babies, waftiness happens in a number of forms. It might not be a poop. Could be she was just farting up a storm, and a diaper change would not be required. And THAT would save me trotting with her up and down stairs, not to mention buy me a few more minutes of rest on the couch.

So, like any parent would… I decided to do a sniff-test diaper check.

(WHAT??? You KNOW everybody does it.)

Now, in Sims2, you can choose to have various interactions with your child, and you get relationship points between your Sim and your Sim baby from these interactions. (This is good. You want this.) You can cuddle them, and talk to them, and play with them. If you select “Play With” and your Sim is holding a baby, they can tickle them, and make them giggle, or hold them up in the air and make that “choochie-choochie” baby talk noise. If these are your Sims, you want your Sim parent to just tickle the baby, and not do the “choochie-choochie” flying-baby thing. Because sometimes, with that, you gamble and lose, and the baby barfs on your Sim’s head, and her hygeine meter goes into red and she will need a shower, PRONTO. So tickling… definitely the better option.

Should have remembered that yesterday when I did the bum check.

I hoisted my daughter up in the air to sniff the ol’ diaper and… she barfed all over me.

My hygiene meter went into red.

And I didn’t even get any relationship points out if it.

(And to add insult to injury, she had a MASSIVE poop. One of those up-the-back, all-over-the-inside-of-the-sleeper numbers. So I ended up not only with barf all over me, but poop all over my hands.)

Nov

19

By CinnamonOpus

9 Comments

Categories: Adoption, Everyday Life Stuff

Six Weeks

One of the best pieces of advice I was given when I talked to people about becoming a parent came from my good friend Heather, who said, “When you get your daughter, give yourself six weeks to settle in.”

She told me, and when she had her first child, someone told her, that when you have a new baby, the first six weeks are the adjustment period. The first six weeks will be rough, and exhausting, and when you are really challenged. The first six weeks are when you and your child are getting to know one another, and getting to know one another’s quirks and behaviours. The first six weeks are when you’ll cry the most.

So, we went into this whole parenting adventure knowing that we should not put any pressure on ourselves for that first six weeks to do anything other than adjust and learn. We knew that the first six weeks would be our big challenge, and we should just roll with things, and that we should cut ourselves some slack.

And she was right.

The first six weeks together were when we were truly sleep deprived. It was a time when we adjusted to life as parents, and our daughter adjusted to life with us as parents. It was when we learned a lot of her cries and cues and habits. It was when our daughter was sick for the first time. It was, because she is such an easygoing kid, not a bad six weeks compared to most new parents’ experience, but still there were a lot of trying times.

So it was excellent advice. But I would add to it, if I were going to pass it on.

I would say that after that first six weeks, there is another six-week period of adjustment. That second six weeks is when you begin to get your life back, in a sense.

The second six weeks, after you have adjusted to the whole “OMG-there’s-a-KID-in-our-house!” thing, is when you begin to feel a bit more like a normal functioning human. The second six weeks are when you start to establish (or TRY to establish) some “normal” again in your life. You begin to figure out how you can shower when you are on your own with a child. You begin to figure out how to stay on top of the laundry. You begin to venture outside your house on your own with your child to do things like buy groceries and run errands. You get into a daily rhythm with your child. It can be frustrating and challenging at times, and there will be some rough patches as you try to figure things out. But it is a little bit different from the challenges and adjustments of that initial six week period.

You begin to feel — REALLY feel — like somebody’s parent.

Because honestly? A lot of that first six weeks, it doesn’t REALLY feel like you are a parent. Oh sure, you KNOW you are, but it does not really FEEL that way. A lot of the time you are just muddling through, trying to figure out this new life that you have chosen for yourself and this small person who is lying there staring up at you. A lot of the time, you feel like you are babysitting. For that first six weeks, you are essentially strangers.

But in the second six weeks, along with the figuring out of routines and getting some normal back in your life, you begin to get to know your child. You begin to find you have special ways of making them smile or laugh, or they begin to show their likes or dislikes, or you begin to see they come to you for comfort or when they are tired. Some people would call it bonding, I guess.

But those are the times it will hit you that you are starting to feel like somebody’s parent. And that this little stranger is becoming less and less of a stranger, and more and more your child.

So, yes, if I were to pass on Heather’s excellent advice, I would say you should give yourselves six weeks when you first are home with your child to adjust. The first six weeks are the roughest. But I would add that there is a second six weeks of adjustment to prepare for. And that the second six weeks are when the magic begins to happen.

Nov

17

By CinnamonOpus

7 Comments

Categories: Her Babyness

Two Months

Two months have passed since we brought our daughter into our family. It’s hard to imagine life without her, now that she is here. Our life revolves completely around her. And that’s good.

She just passed the 7-month mark on this planet, and she’s less and less like the frail, helpless little infant we met two months ago in Addis. She’s becoming a little person with personality and likes and dislikes, and making her mark on us.

She can sit by herself — as long as Mum is behind her to crash into, as she inevitably does, when she throws her head back and arches her back, as if to see what will happen.

She has declared herself a vegetarian — so long as we keep trying to feed her baby food meat.

She MUST find out how all her seatbelt restraints work, as though they hold the secret of the universe within.

She has figured out how her legs work, and is learning to bounce in her Jolly Jumper chair thing.

She LOVESLOVESLOVES to talk on the phone.

She hates socks, but the bunny slippers are a favourite.

She has a fondness for all foods orange — sweet potatoes, squash, carrots, peaches. She ADORES sweet potatoes and peaches.

She loves to splash and kick in the bath. If she’s crabby, we give her a bath and she perks right up.

She thinks Mum’s ponytail is HILARIOUS.

She goes to sleep without a fight at 10 am and 2 pm. Other times, she makes us earn it.

She can roll over from back to front and from front to back, but does not see the point, really. So she just DOESN’T.

She loves to take a sip out of a Big Girl Cup. Water is just fine, because it is the EVENT that counts.

She enjoys Doctor Who. The Ninth Doctor, obviously.

She thinks it’s great fun to sit on the sofa like a big girl and “have a talk” with Mom and even sometimes Daddy, when he’s home.

She is starting to sleep through the night.

She has her Daddy wrapped around her little finger.

She rules her Mommy’s life with a chubby iron fist.

She’s the best thing ever to happen to us.

Nov

14

By CinnamonOpus

11 Comments

Categories: Everyday Life Stuff, Her Babyness

A Warning!

Okay. I know you have read all the baby books, and all the documentation, and gotten lots of advice from people. I know I did when we first began this parenting journey.

But I am here to tell you about something that they DIDN’T tell you about. Something you should be warned about, and prepared for, and be ever watchful and ready. It wasn’t in any baby book anywhere, or in any of the adoption documentation… NOTHING. But I want you all to be prepared.

Because I have learned something that every parent should know. Something so horrifying, so terrible, so scary… that you need to know about it. And prepare yourself.

The fact is that BABIES CAN EXPLODE, SUDDENLY AND WITHOUT ANY PRIOR WARNING.

It’s true.

It happened to me today. THREE TIMES.

I know.

Now, I am sure you are thinking to yourself, “Self? That could NEVER happen to me. Not to MY CHILD. Not to this cute little bundle of love, the apple of my eye…”

OH, but it CAN.

I was comfortable in my motherhood role, happily parenting the gorgeous girl, just having an average day, and then WHAMMO. The baby just EXPLODES.

And let me tell you — IT WASN’T PRETTY.

The first time it happened, it was early this morning. We had no prior warning. We were ASLEEP, for the love of doG! There was nothing that could be done!

We walked in to the baby’s room to find the explosion had happened all over the bedding. Looks like the diaper contained some of it… but it’s a diaper, Jim, it’s not a bomb shelter! There’s only so much a diaper can take!

The next time there was a mess where the back of her onesie used to be. A little pink onesie, just minding it’s own business, when BLAM. So, so sad. *sniff* (But don’t sniff too hard.)

The third time it happened, a pair of pants AND a onesie took a direct hit to the flank. There was nothing that could be done for them, nothing. You take a hit like that, and well… it’s not pretty.

So. I am telling you this so you can be forewarned. BABIES CAN EXPLODE! Be on your guard! Be vigilant!

DON’T LET THIS HAPPEN TO YOU!

(I would have posted pictures — erm… PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE — but nobody needs to see that.)

Nov

12

By CinnamonOpus

7 Comments

Categories: Everyday Life Stuff, Her Babyness

In Case of Crabby, Add Nap.

So, yesterday was not one of my best mommy days ever. Nor was it one of Stinkerbelle’s best baby days.

She had been up half the night the night before, and we were both very tired, very crabby, and very unreasonable. It happens. And the best you can do is to just try to remain calm and get through it. But some days, you work each other up and it just makes things that much worse.

Yesterday was one of those days. We spent a good deal of the day annoying each other and yelling at each other and just generally being crabby to each other. But we also had things to get done, and when 1 o’clock approached, I knew it was time to start getting ready to go out and run some errands.

I started getting her dressed and she fought and fussed and generally was a weenie, but she was dressed and ready to go by 1:30. I still had to get myself ready, which annoyed her. But by quarter to 2 we were ready and heading out the door.

We went to the first grocery store, which stocks 2 things we need: distilled water and Butt Paste. As we were walking through the store, a very old man came over, and peeked at Her Babyness. And then, he began speaking to her VERY LOUDLY. (I think he has some hearing issues, myself. DUDE was SHOUTING, man.) Well, this startled the already crabby Stinkerbelle, and she began to cry.

So I excused myself, wheeled her around to calm her down, and headed through the checkout. Where ANOTHER well-meaning old person got in her face and upset her.

I put her in the car with our bags, and off we went to the next store. This is the grocery store she is accustomed to, so she was calmer and more relaxed to be there. As we wheeled around the store, she dozed off. But then, MORE people would get in her face and, while meaning to coo over her and compliment her and such, would only just wake her up again. And wake up none too happy, I might add.

And because of that? LONGEST TRIP TO THE GROCERY STORE IN OUR LIVES, MAN. (I mean seriously. I know she’s beautiful and all, but SERIOUSLY. Do I need to HANG A FRIGGING SIGN?? “Baby Sleeping. Shut the F*** Up.” Sheesh.)

But we got everything we needed, and I got her back in the car. The ride is only 3 minutes from the store to our house, so there was no chance she was going to sleep. I got her and the groceries inside, and I decided I was going to give her a nice big bottle and get her to nap. And she was so tired, she was in agreement.

I settled into the rocking chair and she finished up her bottle and was beginning to doze off, when another old person struck: Opus. Our ancient Bubby came into the room and started shrieking for all she was worth. And in so doing, woke The Girl up again.

I threw something in Opus’s general direction to scare her off, and tried to get Stinkerbelle settled back into a sleep. And once I thought she was asleep, I headed up to her room to put her into her crib.

The moment I tried to lay her down, she started wailing. So I pulled her close and rocked her again. And once she was asleep again, I tried to lay her down. Same result: lots of wailing, not so much sleeping.

At this point, I was hell bent and determined that THIS CHILD WAS GOING TO NAP. So I took her upstairs, and very quietly managed to lie down on the couch with Stinkerbelle asleep on my chest.

And we napped. For something like 45 minutes. 45 WONDERFUL minutes.

And then, the old folks struck again. Opus came up the stairs, looking for us, shouting all the while.

Stinkerbelle awoke with a start. I shushed Bubby, and tried to lull Stinkerbelle back to sleep. But she was startled, and pushed up looking from one side to another. She was awake.

And then, she barfed all over the front of my shirt.

I lay there for a moment, stunned. But then the look on her face — “EWWWW”, combined with a bit of shock, really — made me burst out laughing. I said, “Look, Lady… I am the one who just got barfed on. So if anyone is going to have that look on their face, it’ll be me.”

And then we both started laughing. Big old belly laughs.

We were a little rested, and that made all the difference in our moods.

So we spent the rest of the evening — once I changed out of my barf shirt — goofing around on the couch and watching her favourite video. It was nice.

But when bedtime rolled around, there was no fussing, no messing about. Straight to bed. Both of us were happy to go.

Nov

9

By CinnamonOpus

10 Comments

Categories: Everyday Life Stuff, Her Babyness

Return of the Stroller Sausage

It’s gotten cold again. Our lovely warm weather is gone, replaced by 3 degree days, and rain or snow flurries.

Bundled Baby 2

Bundled Baby 1

BAH. So much for basking in the sunshine. Time to bundle Her Babyness up in fleece and quilted warmth like a little sausage with eyes. Walks are going to get chilly in a hurry.

Nov

8

By CinnamonOpus

4 Comments

Categories: Craftiness, Friends and Family

100 Good Wishes Quilt: Square #2

The first quilt square we got for our Good Wishes Quilt, other than from us, is from Stinkerbelle’s Auntie Vicki.

Quilt square - Vicki

Now, Auntie Vicki is not technically Stinkerbelle’s aunt — she’s actually our good friend and hairdresser. But she has been with us through a lot of our big life events. She made us gorgeous for our wedding. She consoled us over our miscarriage. She talked with us often about our adventures in infertility treatment. And she waited, ever so patiently for our our adoption to be complete. Not to mention, she is a big fan of my gingerbread.

So she’s TOTALLY an honourary Auntie.

She was so very excited when we finally DID bring Her Babyness home, and, as she stood holding the girl in her arms, looked a little shocked and said, “I cannot BELIEVE I am holding YOUR DAUGHTER.” She’s been following our quest for a family so long, it was the end of a long journey for her, too.

When she went to give me the fabric, she got all flustered and said, “Okay. I saw this and thought it would be PERFECT: pink because she’s a girl, and lots of cats on it because you have lots of cats… But I bought you this BEFORE I saw the fabric you posted. And I realized it TOTALLY DOESN’T MATCH. So if you want, I can get a different one.” Which was really sweet.

I told Vicki not to worry, that this fabric would be just perfect. I explained that this quilt is going to be like a story: every square comes from someone special, and there’s a reason they chose it, and a wish behind it. So they don’t all have to match — it’s the story behind how each square came to be there that counts. And it’s a story I can tell our daughter. over and over again, as the years go by and her wishes come true.

So I said this one would be perfect, and I was keeping it.

Vicki didn’t have a wish for Stinkerbelle yet. She said that would come later. But that’s okay, there’s lots of time: the girl doesn’t have any hair yet, and so we’ll be sure to visit Vicki for her first haircut, but not for a LONG time yet, I think.

So thanks Vicki!

***UPDATE***

Vicki sent along her wish for Stinkerbelle:

“I wish that you are always surrounded by love, that you live your life to the very fullest and learn from mistakes. Always put your health and happiness first. You are beautiful, and you are loved.

All my love, Vicki”

Perfect. Thank you, Vicki.

Nov

5

By CinnamonOpus

5 Comments

Categories: Everyday Life Stuff, Her Babyness

19

19. It’s been 19 GLORIOUS degrees here in the wilds of suburban southern Ontario. It’s been clear and sunny and warm.

So if you wonder where I have been… I’ve been OUTSIDE.

If it were summer, we’d be complaining about how cool it is, probably wearing pants instead of shorts, or long sleeves instead of short sleeves. But in November, where this part of the country is almost always cold and rainy and miserable, 19 degrees is nigh unto paradise.

Her Babyness and I have taken long walks in the sunshine, or sat out on the porch, or just generally enjoyed the gorgeous weather for the last couple of days. It’s one of those freaky weeks we sometimes get of unseasonable warmth in the midst of a whole bunch of cold — like the Christmas Day a few years ago when we went for a walk in t-shirts — and when these weeks come, you have to enjoy them. Yesterday, we walked in the morning for an hour and a bit, down to the grocery store and around the neighbourhood… and we enjoyed that so much, we went for another walk for an hour and a half in the afternoon. Baby’s getting to see the big wide world, while Mom’s getting a workout putting more than a few kilometres on the stroller.

Today we drove into the big town where she had lunch with BDH while I went to the dentist. It was “bring your child to work day” at his office — so we stretched the rules a little bit, so what? — and Stinkerbelle joined the IT team for an hour. Then we drove to visit Auntie Heather and the Little Man for a little while, which was Stinkerbelle’s first visit with someone her own size and/or weight class. The Little Man had his boogie on today, which Stinkerbelle found FASCINATING, although she was unfortunately generally pretty crabby, given this was her first real “visiting” outing since we’ve been home and her routine was all over the place.

BUT… we enjoyed riding around in the car, windows open, she with bare feet so the breeze caught her toes, and it was nice to turn up the radio and sing along. Or, rather, I sang along, while she snoozed in her bucket in the sunshine.

And tomorrow, if the weather holds, Auntie Heather loaned us a bouncy chair which would be perfect for sitting out in the backyard and letting Stinkerbelle see if she can figure out what those chubby little legs are for, while Mom enjoys a rest and a drink on the new patio.

If you’re in the neighbourhood, come on by. I’m sure there are beverages and chairs, bouncy or no, enough for all.

Nov

3

By CinnamonOpus

4 Comments

Categories: Fitness and fatness, Her Babyness

Bad Mommy, Good Mommy

I’m having a bad mommy/good mommy sort of day.

First, it was the day of Stinkerbelle’s doctor’s appointment. After a time change, a 9:15 appointment is perhaps not the BEST time to go anywhere with just a short ride in the car, because one just settles in for a nap when one is unceremoniously dragged from the nice warm confines of the car, through the rain, and into a noisy office. And although one remains in the bucket, and begins to settle in during a long-ish wait with a bit of a bottle, and begins to drift off to a comfy sleep… one is pulled from the bucket and stripped naked.

No, that was STINKERBELLE’s morning. Not mine. But that’s not the half of it.

Once she was stripped down to her diaper, the doctor came in. And that’s fine, because the doctor is a man, and Her Babyness loves to flirt. She was all charm and smiles and cooing and breezed through her exam. She had him wrapped around her little finger.

Until he said, “…and the nurse will be in shortly to weigh and measure her and give her her needles.”

So, the pediatrician had called our family doctor on Friday, and they agreed that her vaccinations would all have to be done again. I was in agreement. I had not, however, asked Herself if it was okay.

The doctor left, and the nurse came in. Immediately Stinkerbelle was put out. “Where had the lovely man gone? Why is this woman talking to me and making pen marks on this paper by my head and feet?” She was tolerant, but as you know, it’s all fun and games until somebody tries to pick you up and take you away.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

My baby burst into loud, long, shrill wails of panic. Somebody was trying to take her away from her mommy!

I felt bad for her, because she was clearly VERY upset. But secretly? I was THRILLED that my daughter was “making strange”. It means she is starting to bond. She knows me and she wants me. I love that.

So once the weighing was done, she was handed back to me and I calmed her down. She was mad, but she began to forgive me.

The nurse came in with some Tylenol, and told me to give her a dose. And while Stinkerbelle played with the crinkly paper on the exam table, the nurse explained the shot and the possible side effects. Her Babyness might be tired, or irritable, or have a low-grade fever. I was to call them if there was anything at all I was concerned about. And then she told me to hold my daughter’s leg firmly, one hand at the top near her hip and the other above her knee.

The next wail, this one of pain, rang out through the office. But she was not done. She needed a shot in the other leg, too. More wailing. Big, sad tears.

I picked her up to comfort her. She was furious with me. I had betrayed her tiny trust. I was a Bad Mommy.

Once she was calmer, I put her down to dress her. I felt pretty bad. There were little blood stains on my shirt where her legs had been. There was a big wet patch where she had cried big tears into my chest as she looked for comfort.

I got her dressed and packed her into her car seat, and we headed out.

We stopped off quickly at the grocery store. She fell asleep a few minutes into the trip, somewhere in the bakery aisle, a combination of the need for a nap, the trauma of the morning, and the effects of the Tylenol and needles. And she slept hard for the next hour.

She woke up happy sometime after 11, in her car seat in the middle of the foyer, two of her cats checking up on her. She grinned at me, and I think she had forgiven me.

For the rest of the day, she is perfectly content to lie quietly playing on a blanket in front of her favourite video, as long as Mommy does not leave her sight. She’s tired, she’s feeling off, but she’s the happy baby we know and love.

But she needs her mommy — the Good Mommy — nearby at all times, just in case. And hey, spending a quiet day on standby for snuggles with my beautiful girl… Can’t think of a better way to spend the day than that.

Nov

1

By CinnamonOpus

6 Comments

Categories: Adoption, Everyday Life Stuff, Her Babyness

Pediatrician

Yesterday was our daughter’s first pediatrician’s appointment. And, hopefully, our last. (Although we really liked the pediatrician, we have a family doctor, so hopefully we have no future need for anything particularly specialized in terms of medical care for the little peanut.)

Our family doctor has seen Stinkerbelle twice, and pronounced her healthy. But he is cautious. Since she is adopted from another country, he wanted to be completely sure that everything was properly checked out by a specialist. And I appreciate that.

HOWEVER.

The last time we visited the family doctor, the thing he was most concerned about was her HIV tests. It seems that, although our child had two HIV tests before her adoption, and both of them were clear… our doctor is aware of some cases locally in which patients from Ethiopia had tested negative in Ethiopia, but when they arrived in Canada, were found to be HIV positive.

EXCUSE ME??

Now, the doctor just kind of mentioned this matter-of-factly to us during her last appointment. “Just because she tested negative while in Ethiopia does not necessarily MEAN she is negative” was basically the gist of the conversation. And although it is uncommon, as our doctor can attest, it DOES happen. So, he booked us an appointment with a pediatrician.

So for the last couple of weeks, this little niggling factoid has been sitting in my subconscious. I know our daughter is healthy, but still…

So yesterday, we went to the pediatrician’s office. It was quiet, and a nice, bright, friendly place. The receptionist was very nice, very gentle with us and the baby, and she took us to the exam room where we stripped Stinkerbelle down to her altogethers and had her weighed and measured. And she’s growing: 24.5 inches and 14.5 pounds. Still tiny by national averages, but growing and growing well.

And then the doctor came in.

I detected an accent… he is from South Africa! Whee! And this turned out to be AWESOME on a number of levels.

First off, and most importantly, he knows African medicine, so reading all her charts and whatnot from her care while in Ethiopia was a breeze. He understood it all. AND… he immediately put us at ease about HIV. The tests she received for HIV in Ethiopia were checking for the virus in the DNA (or something along those lines… the medi-speak kind of lost me eventually), which means they are the most technically advanced tests you can get and are completely accurate. The other type of test is an antibody test and in the case of infants, the antibody test can be incorrect because the antibodies can be passed from mother to child. So while our family doctor was cautious — and given the different tests people use for the virus, rightly so — there is no need to worry about that.

But another reason this doctor’s background came in handy was that he recognized all the vaccinations she has already received, and recognized that one of them is not going to be suitable enough for life here in Canada. Don’t ask me which one, I don’t know… polio maybe? But basically it goes like this: the vaccine provided in Ethiopia protects a patient from, let’s say, 4 different strains of the disease, because that’s all they have to be concerned with there. But here in Canada, the vaccine we use protects us from 5 strains. So he recommends we do the course of vaccinations again. It sounded like a plan to us, so on Monday, when she returns to the family doctor for a follow up, no doubt we’ll be scheduling Stinkerbelle for some shots.

After that discussion, the pediatrician did an exam, and pronounced her sound and healthy. “Lovely” was a word he kept using. “Oh, she’s just lovely.” It was wonderful. And he tested her for some basic developmental milestones: pulling up with her head level, following things with her eyes, grabbing things, passing things from hand to hand… She passed with flying colours. She stole the man’s pen, for goodness’ sake. And the doctor seemed absolutely delighted with her. “She’s just lovely”. He identified some birthmarks for us, as well as explaining about Mongolian spots (not bruises! apparently some people freak out and think it’s bruising), and just generally giving her the once-over. He seemed delighted with all the rolls of baby fat, and how alert she was, and, as he was leaving, told us to “enjoy her”.

And so we shall.