party like a rock star

We got off work early today to have a party! Now, I'm not one to usually enjoy work parties. If you're thinking a stuffy conference room, potluck of crock-pots and various generic dips, and stifled conversations with the boss, you've been to a work party. Nobody is comfortable, the small talk is strained at best, and all you really want to do is put down the paper cup of rainbow sherbet punch, congratulate Earl on his retirement or Rita on the promotion (neither of whom you've ever spoken to before), and get the hell out of there.

This was not one of those parties.

Our company was named to Fortune Magazine's "100 Best Places to Work" list for the 3rd year in a row. And at our job, that means a party. It was held at the Cox Convention Center downtown, completely catered. They even had the two marks of high-end partydom: (1) ice sculptures and (2) shrimp. Not just that - the shrimp was in the ice sculptures. Of course, the hub and I had to make it an early night since Britton still required us to pick her up from daycare. But not before we picked up our party favors - complimentary bottles of champagne.

youngest mac user ever

The hub has been rendered immobile by his jacked up high ankle sprain, so while I prepared dinner he hung out with Britton. Never one to do one thing at a time, he watched the news, oversaw Britton's "naked time," and caught up on the internet chatter. Britton wanted to see what today's headlines were, and helped herself to the computer. All while peeing on the blanket. We get things done in this house.

why have kids?

Is there really a good answer to that question? Or is it so personal that the reasoning may not make sense, or be justified, to someone else? I can think of some really good reasons to not have kids. For instance:

- to have someone to love me (a favorite of thirteen-year-olds on The Maury Show)
- to make my boyfriend marry me/get a job/never break up with me/return my calls
- I'm bored
- I'm tired of working and child support would pay for a new car
- it's easier than just burning my money and crapping on my own furniture

I was thinking about it the other night, while feeding Britton her last bottle and rocking her. It's dark, quiet, the sound of ocean waves coming from the iPod, and it is above all peaceful. So my mind tends to wander because I'm not distracted by work, by the tv, by the phone, by the dog. And I started thinking about why people have children in the first place. Is it a primal instinct, to breed and populate the species? But if that were the reason, we'd be essentially picking and choosing instincts to follow. No, it can't just be instinct. Because it is expected? I can't stand behind this either, as in today's progressive world women are choosing whether or not to marry, getting higher education degrees, making more money, and enjoying more independence. There's little reason to have a child to simply fall in line. To please others? What a massive undertaking just to please another person. I would hope this wouldn't be someone's reason, as I can foresee a lot of resentment in the future of both mother and child.

So, why did I have a child? I don't know for sure. I wanted her, that much is obvious, but there was more to it than that. I wanted to see the family I chose in the child I chose to have. I wanted a second childhood, to see the world through innocent eyes. I wanted to know pregnancy, to know labor, to know birth. I wanted to experience that instinct of protecting another person with your life. Above all, I wanted to create a legacy, someone who would inevitably and hopefully survive me, who would be my witness that I was here, that I lived, that I loved, that I existed. And because I did, so did she.

my daughter is taking over my house

As you know, Grandma and Grandpa came into town for a memorial service, and stayed for the weekend to visit. The hub and I celebrated this rare chance at alone time by hopping into the car and going not on a date, not to the movies, not even to a restaurant.....we went grocery shopping. At 11:00 a.m. Saturday morning. Because we're crazy like that. And foreplay - that was a stop at the Home Depot for a knob. Ohhhh, it's getting hot in here just thinking about it.

So we were able to give Grandma her birthday presents in person, and two presents were these mugs we made at the Paint 'N Station. Granted, I never thought I'd see the day that the hub and I went into a pottery-painting place, let alone voluntarily surrounding ourselves with hippies and old women in serious need of a real hobby. But we got down to business making 2 mugs, knowing that if we only made one, Grandma would never use it for fear of breaking it. Each mug has a set of hand and foot prints, and one says "Britton 2010" and the other says "Happy Birthday Grandma." We also got her a 12-month frame and put in Britton's pictures for the first six months. Do you see the theme here?




Grandma and Britton played all weekend, and Grandma appreciates Britton's love of all things musical.



Come Saturday afternoon, the hub and Grandpa decided that Britton's 500 toys were not enough to entertain her, and they trekked to Babies 'R Us for an activity center, which I have dubbed "The A.D.D Maker." And when she gets really excited in it, and starts jumping around, it becomes the "A.D.H.D. Maker." She LOVES it, cannot get enough of it, so in all fairness tonight I started calling it "The Babysitter."

another reason I don't exercise

Wednesday morning I was getting ready for work, warming a bottle, measuring medicine (damn you, ear infections!), and making the bed. Because I multi-task like that. And in the middle of this, my phone starts ringing. At 6:36 a.m. Which is never good. I missed the call because for some reason my brain refuses to recognize my ringtone, even though it hasn't changed in a over a month. It was the hub, calling to say he had hurt his ankle at the gym when getting off the treadmill. He wanted me to come get him and take him to the ER since he was sure it was broken or severely sprained, and either way he heard a pop. I woke Britton, got her ready, threw her into the daycare from my car window, and the hub called to say he would meet me at the ER since he had made it to his truck.

We get to the ER and wait. And wait. Not because there is a long line but because no one likes working that early. We settled into the kid section and watched Madagascar 2 (which was sad in the beginning and made me realize that when Britton starts watching movies, mommy may cry a little too much). Anywho, I finally had to leave and go to work, and the hub called to say it was not broken but that the doctor said he "did a number on it." The doctor who then prescribed Naproxen and Vicodin. If I was in college, that Vicodin would be dissolving in a bottle of Boone's Farm as we speak. But I'm "mature" now (which means I get called "ma'am" a lot) so I made it home after work to take care of the hub and the baby.

Unfortunately, the hub's aunt passed away the same morning, after battling health issues for years. So, as fate would have it, his parents flew in for the memorial service, as well as some great bonding time with Britton. Thankfully, instead of running the show this weekend, I can sit back and relax. And rest my own hurt back that I pulled two weeks ago and it refuses to heal. Oh, we are getting old.

about the head

Britton has had a cold for over a week, so yesterday I took her to the doctor's office to get checked out. And to check out her pediatrician. Hey, if having a slight crush on your daughter's doctor is wrong, I don't want to be right! I jest, as my mother is the one who actually has the crush on Dr. Inappropriate Feelings. Anywho, she tested negative for RSV (yay!) but has another double ear infection (booooo!). Her second ear infections in a month. He said that usually you can tell your baby has an ear infection because she'll wake up every hour screaming. Britton gives no signs. As far as sleeping, you be the judge...




That's right - ear infections or not, she's been sleeping through the night for two weeks. Great, now I just jinxed it. But it's the hub's night to get up with her, so better to make these sort of predictions now. Also, her first little tooth is starting to poke out. So, the sleeping may be less about her getting older, and more about the copious amounts of Motrin we give her for the teething pain.

judge

It happened yesterday. The hub dropped Britton off at daycare in the morning because I had to go into work early. At the daycare was a family who was dropping their baby off for the first time. As in, this was the first time they were meeting the daycare providers that would watch their daughter for hours a day, the first time her providers were being told her likes and dislikes, how much she eats and when, as if they would remember it all. When the hub told me this, my first thought was how irresponsible these people were. Yes, I judged. I figured, if you can't be bothered to put some effort into making your child comfortable with their new surroundings, what kind of a parent must you be? Drop off a baby in a new place and leave? No way.

This morning, as I was hauling Britton out of the car, I noticed a new girl in the parking lot. She too was taking her daughter out of the car, but she was more cautious, unsure. And her baby was so much younger than Britton. This girl held the door for me, and made her way to the check-in computers, apprehensive as to what to do next. I took Britton to her classroom, and as I handed her off to Ms. E, this new girl and her baby walked through the door of Britton's room. And I knew this woman was the one the hub had described the day before. And I thought to myself, so this is the lady who just throws her kid into a new daycare. This is the irresponsible parent.

But then I noticed that she was crying. And she was so upset about handing off her daughter, so unsure of how to proceed in these new waters. And I instantly felt like my insides were made of lead. How did I pretend to know what kind of person she is? Maybe she didn't bring her baby in earlier because she couldn't bear the thought of daycare. Maybe she just recently learned that she either went back to her job, or there was no job to go back to.

Maybe it was none of my business.

We all do it. We all judge, but I know that as a mom, I judge the most. I point the finger at every mistake others make. And I do it in the hopes that no one notices my mistakes. It's painfully easy to be judgmental about parenting before you have children. Everything is in absolutes - my child will NEVER wear disposable diapers, we will only speak to the baby in Mandarin, my baby will ALWAYS wear organic clothing weaved by nuns from the underbelly of the goats of Nepal, our child will NEVER watch television, my baby will ALWAYS act perfect in public. But as a parent, I have learned the lesson that you pick your battles. Try to win the war, and you've already lost.

So why is it so easy, so acceptable almost, for moms to judge each other? As a public defender, some of my clients were useless, drug-addicted, uneducated, horrendous people. And yet, I wondered what mistakes their mothers made to make them that way. Screw freedom of choice when you have a mom to blame.

Lent is coming up and even though I'm not Catholic, I'm going to try my hardest to give up this crutch. I'm going to accept my own shortcomings and rejoice in my strengths. I'm going to be a member of the world of mothers, instead of its loudest critic.

I'm going to stop pointing the finger and offer a hand.

happy birthday!

Technically, Grandma's birthday is tomorrow, February 15th. But I wanted to make sure I got this video posted, and frankly once a Monday gets going I have no idea what I'll end up doing. I have been known to get home from work, get Britton down to bed, and black out in a comatose state watching bad HGTV reruns about selling houses, or buying houses, or redecorating houses in order to sell them, or first-time homebuyers losing mortgages at the last minute, or buying then redecorating then selling the same house, or....you get my drift. So, we celebrated Grandma's birthday early, even though she isn't here to celebrate with us. While we got more snow this weekend, she's in balmy Florida.

A little note to the birthday gal - we've got presents waiting for you on your next visit! I caught Sadie eyeing the pretty wrapping paper, and she may have tried to sneak away a gift or two, but we've patiently explained to her that the presents are not hers and she must wait until her own birthday to unwrap gifts (complete with power point presentation, I must add).

Happy Birthday!!!

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

happy valentine's day!

For Valentine's Day, we were graced with another beautiful piece of Britton's artwork. Because we have a stainless steel fridge, we can't use magnets on the front. So we scrounged Target and got some cork boards to go on the wall. Now we have a place to display this art! The hub got me a truly awesome gift for Valentine's Day - a spa day of a haircut, manicure, pedicure, facial, and massage. Not to be outdone, I got him a card. What? We said no gifts! How was I supposed to know he'd get me something incredible? So, just to see if he reads this, honey - your gift from me is a long-board skateboard. Any which one you like. The only thing is, you have to go pick it out and buy it. The gift of an errand! I promise I won't even roll my eyes when the thing takes up half the garage.

Britton got presents too. Grandma and Grandpa sent a Minnie Mouse and Winnie-the-Pooh onesie, and Cammy sent a cute outfit with matching jacket. And what present did Britton give us? Well, her voice. She has discovered it, and I think this video shows it better than I could describe.

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

a day in the life...

We got a notice sent home with Britton that some ankle-biter in her class has RSV. Great. Britton has been fighting a cold all week, and the doctor's office says that while it could be RSV, the treatment is the same - let it run its course. So we're not bothering to get her tested unless she gets worse or starts running a fever.

Attached to the note was a post-it that said that Britton had art work to bring home. We hadn't noticed the post-it, so when we discovered it in the hub's truck cup holder, we got excited. Britton's first art project! We didn't even know that they did art at her daycare, at least for the babies. So the hub brought it home today!

Britton's first ever beautiful wonderful glorious perfect work of art:



My two girls, pretending to be in bad moods for the picture, as only moments before without a camera in my hand, they were laughing and playing...



And here are some action shots of her, checking out our new bedding (that was on backorder for TWO months and I've never waited for something so long in my life but I loved it and figured it was worth the wait and it was)...





And who is sitting up all by herself?

going the distance

"Life is a marathon, not a sprint." I see where the author was going with this. But life with a kid is a marathon that never ends. And the hub and I are in it. This week Britton has gotten sick for the first real time (other than the reflux episodes and one-month-long snotty nose from daycare). She started coughing Saturday night, and has now progressed to throwing up snot and drainage that could substitute as a waterfall. She is miserable, but she doesn't show it, and is still pushing to be in good spirits. Yesterday when I dropped her off at daycare, I asked Ms. E to give me a call if Britton got worse, started running a fever, or anything that gave her pause. She called around 1:30 p.m. to say that Britton had thrown up multiple times, and was in her last clean emergency outfit and that while she was allowed to stay at daycare, she might be more comfortable at home. The hub picked her up on the way home to wait for the garage door repairman (another story, and when I tell it the veins in my forehead bulge).

We decided to keep Britton home today. So today marks the first day I have taken off from my new job. Now, I don't have any days off until April 5th. So, I will have to make up 8 hours, on top of the 8 hours I already work every day. Plus the 1 hour lunch and the 1 hour of commuting to and from work. If I leave for work early, Britton pays by having to wake early. If I leave work too late, Britton pays some more because I'm not home to feed her dinner and put her to bed. To be there for my daughter in her sickness, I must miss out on the rest of it, at least the 8 hours I must make up when I could be with her.

When I started work, I told the hub that there were going to be times when we each thought we were the one doing more work, the one giving more and receiving less, the one who felt taken for granted, the one who desperately needed a medal or parade or some recognition for what we thought was a job above-and-beyond. And, in this marathon, there isn't. But I have found that through the good and tough times, when we're tired or stressed or short on time and patience, we still don't feel taken for granted. I was wrong in my assumption; we don't grab at recognition, we work together. Seamlessly, effortlessly, we share the load to lighten it for each of us.

I get to spend the day with my baby girl and soothe her while she is sick. Then while I am making up 8 hours of work, the hub will get to spend the time playing with Britton, and feeding her, and rocking her, and making her laugh, and helping her crawl. We both win this marathon.

bow knows

Yesterday afternoon Missy invited me to go to a "bow party" with her. Now, I'm not the kind of person that throws a "skull-crusher" on a newborn. I don't need to fear an allergic reaction to cheap lace by my 3 week old. And I'm not into frilly girl stuff, and I will give away clothes that have glitter quicker than you can say "rash." But there is something sweet about putting bows in my little girl's hair when she finally gets enough hair to do it. Maybe it comes from my mom never being able to get my pigtails even, or having to teach myself to french-braid my own hair, but I want to do Britton's hair and I want it to be cute. I just won't be buying any of those GIGANTIC bows that send babies to the pediatric chiropractor.

So, we went and had a great time! There were tons of bows, adorable onesies, hats, flowers, and hair bow holders. We played games and I even won some items. Missy and I treated ourselves to peanut butter M&Ms and cupcakes, and there were these cream cheese and tortilla roll-up things I ate all afternoon long. Then Courtney, who put on the party, taught us how to make bows. But I think I'll be leaving it up to the experts!

rollin' rollin' rollin'

Words can only go so far in describing Britton rolling over. In fact, pictures don't do a quality job either, as you can see the before, during, and after, but not the continuous motion. So I finally got video of her rolling on Thursday night, after a day of check-ups and vaccinations. It was also after those pictures of her covered in her spinach dinner, so don't call CPS on me. Those aren't bruises on her legs - it's spinach and potatoes, Earth's Best Stage 2 baby food.

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stats

The hub took Britton to her doctor's appointment for her 6 month check-up. Yes, I begged the hub to take pictures, and he obliged. When Britton saw the nurse pull out those needles again for her shots, I can only imagine the curse words going through her head. It's only inevitable since the hub and I talk in a way that would make sailors blush. Luckily I was not there to witness the torture, but I also wasn't there to be the one to comfort her, which was hard. I've still got another 2 months with no time off, so we're juggling appointments and such as best we can. Now that Britton is 6 months old she gets Motrin to deal with her teething pain. And I packed a big bag of baby food for daycare so that she can start eating lunch, instead of just drinking bottles all day.

Some stats: she is 17 pounds, 15 ounces (75th-90th percentile); 27 inches long (75th-90th percentile) and her ear drums are completely clear, so no need for tubes (yet). She can roll over and can grab for items she wants. At night we do "naked time" where Britton gets to roll around on the floor sans clothes. It helps with development as she feels things she wouldn't normally. It is during this time that she is endlessly fascinated by her feet, and when placed on her tummy she makes crawling motions.

And she apparently loves spinach and potatoes, and peaches, as evidenced at tonight's dinner (and you can see her cute flower band-aids)...

six months old

Britton is six months old today! Where did the time go? We don't go to the doctor for her check-up and dreaded shots until Thursday, so no stats yet. But she is getting so big. The hub has been enticing Britton with tummy time by making Sadie hang around. Britton loves Sadie so much that she tries to get to her, making crawling motions. This girl is going to be moving soon! She can sit on her own, though only for a minute or two. Britton is very excited about the world around her and now likes laying on her back next to me while I hold books overhead and read them. She is teething up a storm, and I feel a bottom tooth under the gum just waiting to erupt. Britton is wearing 6-9 month clothing now, and just started using the high chair for eating, instead of the Bumbo.



Speaking of eating, this girl easily puts away 2.5-4 ounces of baby food in one sitting. We've only progressed to baby food for dinner, but hopefully she'll start eating food at her other meals too. The oatmeal cereal she once loved has been pushed to the side for veggies. She loves green beans, peas, squash, carrots, peas/spinach/pear mixture, and tonight she had green beans and rice dinner. She will tolerate apples but hates bananas and sweet potatoes. And she has recently started trying to take the spoon from me and feed herself. The hub got her handles for her bottle so we can get her started on holding it for herself.