Thursday, April 26, 2007

FUSSY BABY!!!





Margaret has begun to "talk." I put talk in quotes because it's babbling and yet is more than babbling since it really involves a couple of things. First, noises that are made repeatedly in a particular context. For example, she clearly knows Maddie and can occasionally make reference to the dog (as "Mah-eee".) She can also say "Mama," "Dada" and "Bah-bah" (bye-bye?), but those are not exclusively said at appropriate times although they do occur frequently enough at correct times that I think she does have some sense of their meaning. Second, she can repeat words such as the name of her giraffe "Zee-Zee" (GiGi.)

As the last few posts suggest, Margaret has become VERY fussy. Actually, most of the time, she is a very sweet baby. But at various times, she has learned that fussiness elicits a strong response from her parents. Primary example: dinner. Margaret refuses to eat any new finger foods off of her tray. It's really quite infuriating especially since she'll eat mangos, peas, carrots, etc. when they are mashed up and fed to her, but put them on her tray in front of her in little pieces, and she screams. In fact, her first reaction to any food on her tray other than bread, and sometimes cheese, seems to be to scream. Inconsolable, heart-wrenching screams of despair and rage about the lot that life has dealt her. We are counting on it being "just a stage," but she hasn't even hit her terrible twos yet, so who knows what future battles lie on the horizon. As the pediatrician said on our last trip to the doctor for her 1 yr check-up: "She's got a lot of spunk and some temper doesn't she?" Darn tooting.

We're flying to CA in May for a wedding celebration. Two of my colleagues, upon hearing of our upcoming trip, clucked with sympathy about the likely outcome of that flight. The worst time to travel, it would appear, as one of my colleagues described his two year old running up and down the aisle banging into everyone on a flight to Hawaii. Should be lots of fun.

Saturday, April 21, 2007

A sunny Saturday



Today was a beautiful day in DC, but my post from last night was timely since one of the common themes of the day was Margaret Meltdowns. We had a number of those in which Maggie arched her back, occasionally thrashed on the floor and invariably screamed. Such behavior was lamentable/deplorable/etc. because other than that, we had a pretty nice day.

The key event (beyond the fussing) occurred at Rose Park where we encountered farm animals and corresponding mobs of kids between the age of 0 and 4. Watching all of the kids mill about with their parents in hot pursuit made me really realize how I've entered a new demographic class known as "parent." (One of our childless friends from the dog park told us that she walked around the corner of the park, saw all of the kids, and immediately turned for home.) And for the first time, a parent, in this case the mom of Christopher who was staring at Maddie while sporadically eating the muffin that he was storing on the ground, asked me "Can you watch him for a second while I go find my daughter?" Such responsibility, especially since I can barely handle my own. But I guess that I now have the trustworthy "dad" look. Or perhaps she was really talking to Abby.

Friday, April 20, 2007

Strategic fussing

Early in her life, Margaret fussed for three main reasons: (1) she was hungry; (2) she was tired; (3) she wanted attention in a very general sense. But now, we've hit a point where Maggie has become what I would call "strategic" in her fussing. That's perhaps a bit too advanced as a description of her motives, but at least she's started fussing when she clearly recognizes that someone is thwarting her and, darnit, she doesn't like it! I don't like that Dad is putting me in my stroller == SCREAM! I don't like that Dad took away that toy == SCREAM! I don't like that Mom walked out of the room == SCREAM!! This is all weighing upon the people at daycare since our previously angelic Maggie-Moo, while not the worst fusser at the center, has certainly become less amenable than she was in the past.

The primary effect of this change has been to introduce the following calculation into our interaction with Margaret - at what point does one give into her fussing perhaps with the side effect of encouraging such fussing in the future versus the decision not to give in with the result being a major meltdown? Perhaps the best example was at brunch with the GE grandparents last weekend. While feeding her some applesauce, I made the mistake of dropping a bit of doughnut that the restaurant served in front of her. At which point it was all over - doughnuts were the preferred food for the day. Any attempt to reintroduce applesauce was met with a howl. And a scarcity of doughnuts was received in a similar fashion. Now, I don't think that my kid should be exclusively eating doughnuts during brunch, but do I want her to scream in a public restaurant? In the end, she stuffed herself with doughnuts which I'm sure reflects the common outcome of many future battles.

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Then and now, part 3

First, Margaret ate Kraft Mac and Cheese for the first time tonight. After an initial shaking of the head which accompanies every new food including the banana that she subsequently devoured tonight, she enthusiastically ate some until she decided, wisely I suspect, that she'd had enough funny orange pasta. Second, as foreshadowed by an earlier post, she hasn't had a bath since Saturday night when Grandma Mary bathed her. But that's because..... Mama is coming home tonight!! We're all very excited, or at least I am since Margaret is asleep.

And now for something completely different. More "then and now" pics to chronicle Margaret's development. The first here is from Dan's visit to DC in October 2006, the second from February 2007. The red door and white house are lamentably (sic) no longer relevant.


Sunday, April 15, 2007

Update: We are still alive

It's currently day four of Abby's absence, and we're pretty good all things considered. Margaret is a complete terror at this point, but I've battened down the hatches in the home so we haven't had any incidents. She's still slow-moving, but is really determined so the main floor of the house is starting to look more and more spartan as all of our knick-knacks, photos, etc. have been relegated to the parents' bedroom. I suppose it was a pipe dream to think that we could leave them out anyway.

Particularly helpful has been my parents presence for the last two days. The relatives from Philly also drove down yesterday to see the grandparents and kid, so we had a full house to entertain the dog and baby. Unlike earlier visits with the cousins, Margaret can not only register their presence, but can also revel in the absurdity and chaos that accompanies them. Andrew is a definite clown who can make Margaret giggle through his prancing, dancing and general perpetual motion, but even "serious" Alex will occasionally jump into the fray to elicit a cackle from the baby. We went to Montrose Park where Margaret spent the afternoon wobbling through the jungle gym as the cousins ran all around.

Today, my folks were supposed to leave at 7:20 AM due to a plane reservation snafu on my mom's part, but conveniently, a noreaster swept in which dumped lots of rain and delayed their flight until 8:20 PM this evening. So they got to spend another day chasing Margaret around the house while I went to the grocery store, put up a stair gate, organized the attic (we've got an attic in the new place!), etc. Mom was especially good at getting Margaret to nap, although that's mainly because she was willing to sit in the rocking chair holding the kid as she snoozed.

As we dropped Mom and Dad off at the airport, we did the standard "Wave bye-bye!! Bye-bye!!" shtick that we always do as we bid people farewell. This time, however, Margaret's lower lip stuck out and started quivering at which point she started to wail. It wasn't the usual petulant wail that accompanies, for example, my departure from daycare. Instead, it was a soulful sound that suggested she was legitimately unhappy with the departure of Grandma and Grandpa (again, unlike my departure from daycare since that's when the fun begins) and the drooping corners of the mouth that proceeded the crying seemed to indicate that she was slowly registering a deep despair. Perhaps I'm reading too much into it, but her reaction to their departure was different from her past fusses.

Then, on the way home while stopped at a stoplight, we spied a blonde woman about Abby's age and build who was wearing a rain jacket that was very similar to Abby's. From her newly forward-facing vantage, Margaret was giving her a very hard look as we idled at the light. Not really thinking, I asked "What, do you see Mama?" Which immediately induced the same heartfelt blubbering that accompanied Grandma's departure. Again, I'm probably reading too much into her behavior since we were in Margaret's fussy time zone, but dangit, Mama better be having a fun time in Costa Rica!

Friday, April 13, 2007

To bathe or not to bathe

Tonight, Margaret and I had a big, albeit one-sided, debate about whether or not she should have a bath. To be clear from the outset, I don't "do" baby baths. I also don't do dishes (although I cook dinner every single night) nor do I put away clothes (but I'll wash, hang and fold them.) Of course, none of these rules are firm since I do occasionally wash dishes, put away clothes and bathe the kid, but since none of those tasks appeals to me at all and there has to be some division of labor in a household, I figure that my skills are better applied elsewhere. Especially given the likely quality of the cooking if Abby and I were to trade cooking/dish washing responsibilities. (Some have argued that Abby's lack of cooking skills isn't real rather it reflects a strategic position on her part, like the clever guy we know who doesn't cook or wash dishes since he doesn't like "heat." But that's a subject for a later post. And even if that's true, it's fine since it still leads to the outcome that I prefer, i.e., I cook and she does dishes.)

Why is this relevant? Because Abby is out of town (more on that later) and if Margaret didn't have a bath tonight, it would be the third consecutive night sans bath. And why are we allowing our kid to become so filthy when she usually has a bath each night? Two nights ago, Abby was busy packing for her trip. Last night, neither I nor the other attending adult, Aunt Eleanor, felt that a bath was really necessary. But tonight, it's a bit more pressing. Especially since Grandparents are coming into town tomorrow to keep us company in light of Abby's absence. Since my parents are the visiting grandparents, I'm not so concerned about "appearances" (unlike how things work on the other side) and I'm certain that my mom would LOVE to give Margaret a bath tomorrow night. But it would still be awkward to hear my mom say, (read with a rising tone of voice) "Someone's got a stinky diaper!" "Ummm, no mom. She just hasn't had a bath in a while."

In the end, Margaret had her bath. And, given the level of resistance to the whole procedure relative to a mom bath, I think that a dad bath, like lots of other dad events (e.g. dad dinners, dad diaper changes, etc.) is received better than the mom counterpart.

Why, you might ask, all of the low-level hostility throughout this post towards the other side of Margaret's gene pool? Well, Mom is off galavanting around Costa Rica with some friends on an annual trip, which she missed last year due to the kid's birth when they went to Banff, while I'm stuck as the sole caregiver in DC until Tuesday night. Being left alone with an infant is always tough and admittedly, I went on some business trips at earlier points in Margaret's life, but leaving at this particular juncture is especially sadistic - Margaret is into EVERYTHING. Pull out that drawer and empty out everything. Then wobble over, open that cabinet and do the same. Next, grab the phone and turn it onto "conference," a particularly insidious setting since the standard blatting doesn't happen when a call isn't placed, so that for 7 hours, dad can't receive or place calls. Even better, since he can't leave you alone for a second to search for the phone to fix the problem, drop it into the recycling bin under some newspapers so that he has no idea where it is. And so on. And she seems to have an attraction to the WORST possible things - dish soap and other cleaners (since put out reach), stereo equipment (easy to restrict access), expensive pots and pans (ditto.)

We will, of course, survive as our successful bath this evening illustrates. However, when the folks at the dog park were talking about how many gifts Abby needed to bring back to Margaret to make up for "abandoning" her, I said, "To hell with that. The person that's got a big, big debt hanging over Abby's head is ME!!"

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Margaret can walk

It's taken some time to put together vertical positions (i.e. standing) with mobility (i.e. crawling) with the end result being.... walking! A step or two followed by a collapse doesn't count - those are steps, not walking. But a series of multiple steps in succession without a subsequent collapse does, I think, count as walking.

A friend of mine with kids told me that there are two very discrete "lifestyle" breaks associated with a kid. The first, naturally, is the birth. You're stuck with them at that point and, boy oh boy, do they screw up your social life. The second is walking. EVERY parent that I've talked with about walking, and as I've noted elsewhere, it's amazing how many discussions you have with other parents about things that never entered your mind before, has a story about listening to their kid's head go thump-thump-thump down the stairs. I was told today that they are unlikely to do much damage in the event of such a fall since they don't weigh enough (basically, they bounce right off those stairs.) But I'm still trying to figure out how to make the stairs off limits.

In any case, here's a video of Margaret trundling, staggering, swaying - call it what you want, but it's clearly walking - through the grand halls of the GSA building.

Monday, April 9, 2007

An excellent article

While this blog mainly deals with the kid and, to a lesser extent, the dog (and, to an even lesser extent, us), we do expand our horizons now and then. Thus, the poem from a few posts ago. And now a link to an excellent article from the Washington Post that I really recommend. I honestly think that I would stop to watch someone like the person about whom this article is written, but in a certain setting who knows, I might be one of the philistines who pass him by.

Saturday, April 7, 2007

Then and now, part 2

Margaret and Mama are in CT to celebrate the retirement of Grandpa Peter. Meanwhile, Dad is home unpacking stuff and trying to babyproof the new house. But that doesn't prevent the posting of another set of "contrast" photos. The first is from May 3, 2006 (1 month old) while the second is from February 4, 2007 (10 months old.)






Tuesday, April 3, 2007

She's one year old!!!

Margaret had a birthday party with cake over the weekend after our move (more on that in a future post.) Attending were Aunt Rachel from Philly, Uncle Steve from Minneapolis (both in town to help with the move), and the grandparents from CT. It was lots of fun, but Margaret was quite concerned about the possibility that her cake had been poisoned.









































The party at her school was a much bigger success especially since she also got to wear her Cubs dress to celebrate opening day.