Spring arrived early in Boston, bringing with it the promise of warm days, long strolls, and open windows. Unfortunately, spring also brought long dormant insects out of hibernation-namely, a family of ladybugs living directly outside of Caitlin's nursery.
Actually, the ladybugs made several appearances prior to spring's arrival. Every now and again, I found a ladybug stuck inside of a wall sconce or crawling along a window pane. Over the past few weeks, the problem grew worse. Two weeks ago a ladybug landed in my hair while nursing Caitlin before bed. It took every ounce of strength I had to continue nursing and casually swat the bug away. Last Sunday morning, I found a ladybug crawling on Caitlin's nightgown. Later that week, I noticed a small group of ladybugs loitering on the nursery windowsills. Little by little, as the temperatures slowly rose, the ladybug population increased.
Yesterday, I went into Caitlin's room after her midday nap. To my horror, I saw not two, not six, but twenty-four (yes, I counted) ladybugs all over the floor, windows, curtains, walls, and ceiling. The nursery was under attack. This was no longer a problem I could nonchalantly swat away. This was a battle and I needed to take immediate action. Obviously, I called my husband. Normally, my handy husband can fix almost any household related problem. Upon entering the nursery, he simply stood and stared. No action. Just staring. "Matt, we can't leave these ladybugs here. What if they crawl into Caitlin's crib? What if they crawl into her mouth?" Now truthfully, the ladybugs had not come close to Caitlin's crib, but a new mama is prone to irrational fears. "I don't know what to do. Let me do some research," Matt said as he calmly left the nursery and settled down on the couch.
As Matt researched ladybug removal, I reached out for help. Where does a new mother turn during a time of desperation? Facebook, of course. I asked my 197 friends how to safely remove ladybugs from a baby's room. While checking my Facebook notifications every thirty minutes (o.k., every thirty seconds), I collected an array of feedback-some helpful (vacuum up those ladies), some not (put some warm, buttered cinnamon toast on the nursery floor). I held out hope for a permanent, nontoxic solution, but the vacuum remained the best suggestion.
Before Caitlin's late afternoon nap, Matt lugged our industrial strength vacuum to the nursery and began sucking up ladybug after ladybug. If you ever had a ladybug infestation, you understand that these suckers multiply. What started as twenty-four ladybugs quickly turned into thirty, then forty. Every time we thought the ladybugs were gone, we found a straggler clutching for dear life to the curtains or the lampshade. Finally, after ten minutes of thorough vacuuming, the nursery was clear of insects. As late afternoon turned into evening and evening turned into night, the ladybugs did not return. The images of ladybugs crawling into Caitlin's crib began to fade away. I felt victorious.
Our victory was shortlived. The ladybugs came back again today. This means the industrial vacuum now has a permanent home in Caitlin's nursery. It also means I continue to hope for a chemical-free solution that will not displace the baby and will not involve home renovations. We may have won a battle or two, but as of right now, the ladybugs are winning the war.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Love Hate Relationship
Most new mamas I speak with report a strong love-hate relationship with baby super store, Babies R Us. My love-hate relationship began when Matt and I registered for baby gifts some time during my second trimester, and the relationship has grown even more tumultuous since Caitlin's arrival.
Like a bad high school boyfriend, Babies R Us can make my heart skip a beat one second and leave me sobbing the next. I love that Babies R Us carries everything I need in one place. My time is limited and one stop shopping is life saving. I hate that no matter what day of the week, no matter what time of day, Babies R Us is a madhouse filled with anxious new parents, indecisive relatives buying shower gifts, and screaming babies (my own baby included). I love the Babies R Us rewards program which sends me coupons almost every week, thereby making all this baby gear somewhat affordable. I hate trying to push my oversized shopping cart through too narrow aisles, which reminds me a little bit of the whole birthing experience-something I have tried to forget (at least the painful part). First the love, then the hate. Every time.
Each time I make the trip to Babies R Us, I follow a strict preparation regimen. First, I make a list. Next, I meticulously scan and clip my rewards coupons. Before leaving, I carbo load which gives me stamina and prevents The Hanger (Matt's catch phrase for my hunger/anger, which comes on full force while shopping on an empty stomach). Finally, I put on some work out clothes, load Caitlin into the car, and brace myself.
Yesterday, Caitlin and I made our monthly journey to Babies R Us. Our mission was clear: we set out to buy Caitlin a big girl car seat- the highly rated, yet overpriced, Britax Marathon (Don't worry, Mom. I used a coupon.). As I pulled into the full parking lot, my palms began to sweat. I swore at an elderly grandmother taking too long to leave her parking spot. The hate part of my love-hate relationship was coming on strong. Obviously, the spaghetti I ate prior to departure was not helping.
Once in the store, we were focused. Grabbing only the items on our list, Caitlin and I made our way to the car seat department. There it was. Displayed proudly on the shelf was Baby Bargains top rated Britax Marathon-in stock and ready for purchase. Caitlin smiled approvingly at her new seat and I eagerly grabbed the box from the shelf. Immediately, trouble ensued. The awkward, L-shaped box would not fit into our shopping cart no matter how many different ways I tried. After several failed attempts, a Babies R Us employee kindly offered to carry the car seat to the register. I so appreciated this young man's help and I felt the warm, tingly love part of my relationship returning.
After paying, Caitlin and I somehow lugged our new gear to the car. As soon as I popped my trunk I realized we had another problem. My trunk is small and this car seat is monstrous. Over and over again, I tried stuffing the car seat into the trunk. Over and over again, I failed. I could drive home with the car seat somewhat contained, but the trunk did not close and I deemed this highly unsafe. Why didn't I think of this scenario before? This was a classic new mama move and I felt embarrassed and angry.
Rather than directing the anger toward myself, I decided to lash out at Babies R Us and their ridiculous, enormous boxes. With my trunk half open and the car seat about to fall out, I decided to make a move. I drove (yes, very unsafe...I know) to the fire lane, turned on the hazard lights, and hauled Caitlin back into the store. After cutting three people in the customer service line, I stormed up to a poor young woman and said, "I need help. The car seat I just bought does not fit into my car. I either need you to make it fit, or I need you to hold it for me until later. Please." Rather than telling me to go to the end of the line where I belonged, the young woman said, "Of course. Those boxes are so awkward, I'll come help you."
We went back out to the fire lane where I was greeted by a man in a pickup truck honking and calling me an idiot and a pair of ladies telling me the fire lane was not a parking spot. While I pretended not to hear these people, the store employee looked at the angry drivers and said, "Some people just don't get it," as she lifted car seat out of the trunk. "Have you tried the front seat?" I had, but the car seat completely blocked my view from the passenger window-again, highly unsafe. "These boxes are like tetris pieces, you just have to play around until you get the right fit," she said. After a quick rotation and a flip, the car seat was wedged in the front seat, view unobstructed. The love was back.
I thanked my new best friend, jumped back in the car, and drove away from the fire lane and further criticism of my driving/parking skills. As I drove home, I felt warm all over. While some of this was due to my wrestling match with the Britax, I think some part of me fell in love a little bit with the Babies R Us employee. This young woman reassured me that I was not an idiot, a driver who violates fire lane laws, or an unprepared mother. My heart swooned.
Until I got home and realized I can't get the car seat out. Twenty-four hours later, it still sits on my passenger seat. First the love, then the hate. Every time.
Like a bad high school boyfriend, Babies R Us can make my heart skip a beat one second and leave me sobbing the next. I love that Babies R Us carries everything I need in one place. My time is limited and one stop shopping is life saving. I hate that no matter what day of the week, no matter what time of day, Babies R Us is a madhouse filled with anxious new parents, indecisive relatives buying shower gifts, and screaming babies (my own baby included). I love the Babies R Us rewards program which sends me coupons almost every week, thereby making all this baby gear somewhat affordable. I hate trying to push my oversized shopping cart through too narrow aisles, which reminds me a little bit of the whole birthing experience-something I have tried to forget (at least the painful part). First the love, then the hate. Every time.
Each time I make the trip to Babies R Us, I follow a strict preparation regimen. First, I make a list. Next, I meticulously scan and clip my rewards coupons. Before leaving, I carbo load which gives me stamina and prevents The Hanger (Matt's catch phrase for my hunger/anger, which comes on full force while shopping on an empty stomach). Finally, I put on some work out clothes, load Caitlin into the car, and brace myself.
Yesterday, Caitlin and I made our monthly journey to Babies R Us. Our mission was clear: we set out to buy Caitlin a big girl car seat- the highly rated, yet overpriced, Britax Marathon (Don't worry, Mom. I used a coupon.). As I pulled into the full parking lot, my palms began to sweat. I swore at an elderly grandmother taking too long to leave her parking spot. The hate part of my love-hate relationship was coming on strong. Obviously, the spaghetti I ate prior to departure was not helping.
Once in the store, we were focused. Grabbing only the items on our list, Caitlin and I made our way to the car seat department. There it was. Displayed proudly on the shelf was Baby Bargains top rated Britax Marathon-in stock and ready for purchase. Caitlin smiled approvingly at her new seat and I eagerly grabbed the box from the shelf. Immediately, trouble ensued. The awkward, L-shaped box would not fit into our shopping cart no matter how many different ways I tried. After several failed attempts, a Babies R Us employee kindly offered to carry the car seat to the register. I so appreciated this young man's help and I felt the warm, tingly love part of my relationship returning.
After paying, Caitlin and I somehow lugged our new gear to the car. As soon as I popped my trunk I realized we had another problem. My trunk is small and this car seat is monstrous. Over and over again, I tried stuffing the car seat into the trunk. Over and over again, I failed. I could drive home with the car seat somewhat contained, but the trunk did not close and I deemed this highly unsafe. Why didn't I think of this scenario before? This was a classic new mama move and I felt embarrassed and angry.
Rather than directing the anger toward myself, I decided to lash out at Babies R Us and their ridiculous, enormous boxes. With my trunk half open and the car seat about to fall out, I decided to make a move. I drove (yes, very unsafe...I know) to the fire lane, turned on the hazard lights, and hauled Caitlin back into the store. After cutting three people in the customer service line, I stormed up to a poor young woman and said, "I need help. The car seat I just bought does not fit into my car. I either need you to make it fit, or I need you to hold it for me until later. Please." Rather than telling me to go to the end of the line where I belonged, the young woman said, "Of course. Those boxes are so awkward, I'll come help you."
We went back out to the fire lane where I was greeted by a man in a pickup truck honking and calling me an idiot and a pair of ladies telling me the fire lane was not a parking spot. While I pretended not to hear these people, the store employee looked at the angry drivers and said, "Some people just don't get it," as she lifted car seat out of the trunk. "Have you tried the front seat?" I had, but the car seat completely blocked my view from the passenger window-again, highly unsafe. "These boxes are like tetris pieces, you just have to play around until you get the right fit," she said. After a quick rotation and a flip, the car seat was wedged in the front seat, view unobstructed. The love was back.
I thanked my new best friend, jumped back in the car, and drove away from the fire lane and further criticism of my driving/parking skills. As I drove home, I felt warm all over. While some of this was due to my wrestling match with the Britax, I think some part of me fell in love a little bit with the Babies R Us employee. This young woman reassured me that I was not an idiot, a driver who violates fire lane laws, or an unprepared mother. My heart swooned.
Until I got home and realized I can't get the car seat out. Twenty-four hours later, it still sits on my passenger seat. First the love, then the hate. Every time.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
The Voices In My Head
Along with sleep deprivation and stretch marks, comes another, far uglier feature of new motherhood: The Voices. The first voice belongs to Reason. Reason is logical, assured, no nonsense. If Reason had a face, it might look like Mrs. Clark, my fourth grade teacher. Mrs. Clark wore pressed pants and blouses every day. The rumor circulating through Pleasant Street School was that Mrs. Clark once served in the army. Or Reason might look like my husband. Unfailingly calm, patient, and by far the more natural parent in our parenting team. The second, much louder voice belongs to Self Doubt. Self Doubt is persistent, indecisive, anxious. Self Doubt might resemble a more disheveled version of myself. Lipstick on my teeth, tousled hair, coffee stain trailing down my shirt. Reason and Self Doubt argue within my mind constantly, around and around, over and over again. Never ending.
I first met Reason and Self Doubt while reading Baby Bargains during my second trimester. While researching baby equipment, Reason and Self Doubt had their share of debates.
Reason: I don't need to spend money on a bassinet because I have a Pack and Play and Caitlin's future crib is three feet from our bed.
Self-Doubt: Will Caitlin be safe sleeping in the vast terrain of her crib? What if she rolls into the crib bumpers?
At first, Reason and Self Doubt's debates were civil, subdued. Point. Counterpoint.
After Caitlin was born, Reason and Self Doubt began arguing loudly and often. About a week after Caitlin came home from the hospital, Matt had a hockey game and I was alone with the baby. As I held Caitlin and watched her sleep, a sudden feeling of responsibility overwhelmed me. Caitlin was so vulnerable, so dependent. Self Doubt began asking: Am I truly qualified to be somebody's mother? Reason tried to help, but my mind often ignored its sound advice.
Even with almost six months of parenting under my belt, the voices speak on.
Reason: It is o.k. to let Caitlin cry after I put her to bed. This is how she will learn to self-soothe and fall asleep on her own.
Self Doubt: Caitlin will feel insecure, frightened, and abandoned.
On Thursday night, Reason and Self Doubt were finally put in their places. After Caitlin woke from her late afternoon nap, she felt warm, her cheeks were red, her eyes were glassy. Sure enough, her temperature was 101.9. Immediately panicked, I called the doctor's office. Nurse Noreen, who is becoming a close friend and confidant, promptly returned my call. Noreen asked routine questions: Is Caitlin eating? Does she have wet diapers? Are there any other symptoms of illness? Yes, yes, and no. Then Noreen did the worst possible thing: she presented me with a choice. Noreen said I could bring Caitlin to urgent care or to the emergency room that night. Or, I could give her Tylenol, monitor her through the night, and bring her to the doctor in the morning. After a long pause, Noreen asked, "Mrs. McCabe? Are you still there? What do you want to do?" Because her question required an immediate response, Reason and Self Doubt had no time to argue. At this point, Instinct took over. Instinct is always there, quietly lurking. Instinct does not argue or analyze. Instinct acts, knows. "I am going to keep Caitlin at home, let her sleep, and make an appointment for the morning," I said to Noreen. "I think that is a wise choice," Noreen replied, thereby validating my need to listen to Instinct above all others.
On Friday morning, I brought Caitlin to the doctor. Her fever was gone and the doctor assured me she was just fine. Most likely, the fever resulted from teething. Instinct prevailed. Take that, Self Doubt!
Along with my newly expanded hips, the Voices will be a part of me from here forward. Through every action, every decision, Reason and Self Doubt will be present. I accept this part of new motherhood. Thankfully, Instinct is also a part of new motherhood. It has always been there, waiting for its chance to lead.
I first met Reason and Self Doubt while reading Baby Bargains during my second trimester. While researching baby equipment, Reason and Self Doubt had their share of debates.
Reason: I don't need to spend money on a bassinet because I have a Pack and Play and Caitlin's future crib is three feet from our bed.
Self-Doubt: Will Caitlin be safe sleeping in the vast terrain of her crib? What if she rolls into the crib bumpers?
At first, Reason and Self Doubt's debates were civil, subdued. Point. Counterpoint.
After Caitlin was born, Reason and Self Doubt began arguing loudly and often. About a week after Caitlin came home from the hospital, Matt had a hockey game and I was alone with the baby. As I held Caitlin and watched her sleep, a sudden feeling of responsibility overwhelmed me. Caitlin was so vulnerable, so dependent. Self Doubt began asking: Am I truly qualified to be somebody's mother? Reason tried to help, but my mind often ignored its sound advice.
Even with almost six months of parenting under my belt, the voices speak on.
Reason: It is o.k. to let Caitlin cry after I put her to bed. This is how she will learn to self-soothe and fall asleep on her own.
Self Doubt: Caitlin will feel insecure, frightened, and abandoned.
On Thursday night, Reason and Self Doubt were finally put in their places. After Caitlin woke from her late afternoon nap, she felt warm, her cheeks were red, her eyes were glassy. Sure enough, her temperature was 101.9. Immediately panicked, I called the doctor's office. Nurse Noreen, who is becoming a close friend and confidant, promptly returned my call. Noreen asked routine questions: Is Caitlin eating? Does she have wet diapers? Are there any other symptoms of illness? Yes, yes, and no. Then Noreen did the worst possible thing: she presented me with a choice. Noreen said I could bring Caitlin to urgent care or to the emergency room that night. Or, I could give her Tylenol, monitor her through the night, and bring her to the doctor in the morning. After a long pause, Noreen asked, "Mrs. McCabe? Are you still there? What do you want to do?" Because her question required an immediate response, Reason and Self Doubt had no time to argue. At this point, Instinct took over. Instinct is always there, quietly lurking. Instinct does not argue or analyze. Instinct acts, knows. "I am going to keep Caitlin at home, let her sleep, and make an appointment for the morning," I said to Noreen. "I think that is a wise choice," Noreen replied, thereby validating my need to listen to Instinct above all others.
On Friday morning, I brought Caitlin to the doctor. Her fever was gone and the doctor assured me she was just fine. Most likely, the fever resulted from teething. Instinct prevailed. Take that, Self Doubt!
Along with my newly expanded hips, the Voices will be a part of me from here forward. Through every action, every decision, Reason and Self Doubt will be present. I accept this part of new motherhood. Thankfully, Instinct is also a part of new motherhood. It has always been there, waiting for its chance to lead.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Grant's Pants
The week before Caitlin turned five months old, we made a long awaited trip to Babies R Us. Our shopping list included colorful, BPA-free bowls and spoons and a box of rice cereal. Yes, it was time to introduce solid foods to the little lady! I looked forward to the milestone since Caitlin's four month check-up. Every day I talked to Caitlin about the culinary delights in her future. Mmmm...steamed peas! I had visions of myself flitting around the kitchen, wearing a paisley apron, steaming and pureeing organic fruits and vegetables. In my fantasy, Caitlin would take pleasure in eating (she is my daughter, after all), and she would gobble up all of the dishes I lovingly prepared. I should know by now that what happens in real life never quite matches what happens in fantasies.
The day after our trip to Babies R Us, I served Caitlin her first meal: one tablespoon of rice cereal mixed with four tablespoons of mama's milk. Yum! The cereal looked like curdled milk and it was really too watery to serve with a spoon, but I tried. Caitlin rejected the first several bites. I tried pushing the spoon into her mouth, but her lips were steadfastly glued shut. Caitlin puts just about everything in her mouth, but when it came time to get some food in there she firmly resisted. After several persistent attempts, I finally wedged the spoon in between Caitlin's lips and gave her some cereal. The cereal remained in Caitlin's mouth for all of five seconds before she drooled most of it out, making a nice mess of her chin and bib. This went on for another several minutes and then I gave up. Undeterred, I tried again the next day and the day after that, only to find the same outcome. All in all, Caitlin probably consumed approximately 1 teaspoon of cereal.
Which is why I was so surprised about what happened over the next several days. The little bit of rice cereal made poor Caitlin so constipated, I didn't change a poopy diaper for over a week. Now if you are a regular follower of Caitlin's adventures, you know this is very unusual for my baby. Her digestive system typically functions so fast she barely finishes a feeding before pooping. Needless to say, I was pretty concerned. Being a neurotic new mom, I called the doctor after four poo-free days. The pediatrician's office suggested trying karo syrup or prune juice in her bottles. I tried, but nothing. The doctor recommended trying a glycerin suppository if the bottles did not work. Ewww, but after a week I tried it. After giving the suppository (which was so gross and terrible, I can't quite talk about it yet) I prepared for a massive explosion. I wrapped Caitlin in a disposable changing pad and tried to entertain her on her changing table until the big moment arrived. I waited and waited, but still nothing! Now I started to really worry. Maybe something was seriously wrong. Is it possible for the digestive system to shut down? I've seen stranger things on TLC's Mystery Diagnosis. Surely, anything was possible. On day 10 of Operation Unconstipation, I went back to the prune juice. Nana gave her a dose on Thursday and I put some in her bottles for day care on Friday. Upon leaving Caitlin at day care I told her teachers about the prune juice and wished them good luck.
It appears they needed it. When I picked Caitlin up on Friday afternoon she was no longer wearing the adorable Baby Gap white pants she had on in the morning. Instead she was wearing black Hanes His Way sweat pants in size 12 months, which could only mean one thing: she pooped! In fact, she pooped so many times that she went through her first outfit of the day, plus her two back-up outfits stored at daycare. When I saw my little smiling baby playing on the rug her teacher said, "Well, she's not constipated anymore. And she is wearing Grant's Pants." Thanks, Grant. I promise we'll wash and return them next week.
Did Operation Unconstipation test my resolve? Maybe a bit. But the sight of Grant's Pants reminded me not to relinquish my fantasy. New moms need fantasies. One day, Caitlin will enjoy eating solids. And I am going to look super cute in my paisley apron.
The day after our trip to Babies R Us, I served Caitlin her first meal: one tablespoon of rice cereal mixed with four tablespoons of mama's milk. Yum! The cereal looked like curdled milk and it was really too watery to serve with a spoon, but I tried. Caitlin rejected the first several bites. I tried pushing the spoon into her mouth, but her lips were steadfastly glued shut. Caitlin puts just about everything in her mouth, but when it came time to get some food in there she firmly resisted. After several persistent attempts, I finally wedged the spoon in between Caitlin's lips and gave her some cereal. The cereal remained in Caitlin's mouth for all of five seconds before she drooled most of it out, making a nice mess of her chin and bib. This went on for another several minutes and then I gave up. Undeterred, I tried again the next day and the day after that, only to find the same outcome. All in all, Caitlin probably consumed approximately 1 teaspoon of cereal.
Which is why I was so surprised about what happened over the next several days. The little bit of rice cereal made poor Caitlin so constipated, I didn't change a poopy diaper for over a week. Now if you are a regular follower of Caitlin's adventures, you know this is very unusual for my baby. Her digestive system typically functions so fast she barely finishes a feeding before pooping. Needless to say, I was pretty concerned. Being a neurotic new mom, I called the doctor after four poo-free days. The pediatrician's office suggested trying karo syrup or prune juice in her bottles. I tried, but nothing. The doctor recommended trying a glycerin suppository if the bottles did not work. Ewww, but after a week I tried it. After giving the suppository (which was so gross and terrible, I can't quite talk about it yet) I prepared for a massive explosion. I wrapped Caitlin in a disposable changing pad and tried to entertain her on her changing table until the big moment arrived. I waited and waited, but still nothing! Now I started to really worry. Maybe something was seriously wrong. Is it possible for the digestive system to shut down? I've seen stranger things on TLC's Mystery Diagnosis. Surely, anything was possible. On day 10 of Operation Unconstipation, I went back to the prune juice. Nana gave her a dose on Thursday and I put some in her bottles for day care on Friday. Upon leaving Caitlin at day care I told her teachers about the prune juice and wished them good luck.
It appears they needed it. When I picked Caitlin up on Friday afternoon she was no longer wearing the adorable Baby Gap white pants she had on in the morning. Instead she was wearing black Hanes His Way sweat pants in size 12 months, which could only mean one thing: she pooped! In fact, she pooped so many times that she went through her first outfit of the day, plus her two back-up outfits stored at daycare. When I saw my little smiling baby playing on the rug her teacher said, "Well, she's not constipated anymore. And she is wearing Grant's Pants." Thanks, Grant. I promise we'll wash and return them next week.
Did Operation Unconstipation test my resolve? Maybe a bit. But the sight of Grant's Pants reminded me not to relinquish my fantasy. New moms need fantasies. One day, Caitlin will enjoy eating solids. And I am going to look super cute in my paisley apron.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
A New Kind of Torture
I may have been pregnant and exhausted at the time, but I remember when President Obama took office he promised to end the use of torture while interrogating suspected terrorists. Obviously, torture is inhumane and a violation of human rights, but I have watched enough episodes of 24 to know there are some Jack Bauer types out there using torture tactics whether Obama likes it or not. And for those counter-terrorism agents, I have a suggestion for you: ear wax removal. Water boarding and sensory deprivation don't hold a candle to this ball of wax (the wax puns are just too easy...). Why am I so up on forms of torture? Sadly, I witnessed Caitlin experience this tactic at her four month check-up yesterday.
I was nervous going into this appointment because Caitlin was scheduled for another round of immunizations. I didn't see the ear wax thing coming. As Dr. P. was performing her routine checks, she peeked into Caitlin's ears and said, "Hmmmm...she has a bit of wax build up in her right ear. I'm just going to get that out, o.k.?" Sure. When I remove wax from my ear, I use a Q-Tip and the sensation is somewhat pleasant. Instead of pulling out a Q-Tip, Dr. P. busted out a long, metal device resembling the instrument dentists use to scrape plaque away. I was not liking the looks of this, but then it got worse. Dr. P. asked me to hold Caitlin's hands. Now I knew we were in trouble, given that I had to restrain my baby daughter. As Dr. P. inserted the ear wax remover into Caitlin's ear I tried not to look, but it was sort of like driving past a car accident. You just can't help but stare. I watched Dr. P. dig into Caitlin's ear over and over again, each time removing a clump of orange ear wax. While it doesn't sound too traumatizing, trust me, it was brutal. Caitlin's screams must have scared off the majority of patients in the waiting room. As this was happening, Dr. P told me ear wax build up is hereditary and she asked, "Who is the waxy one in the family?" "My husband," I answered immediately, mostly because he wasn't there witnessing this trauma, therefore he gets the blame. Being an optimist, the positive spin on this experience is the shots did not bother Caitlin nearly as much as the ear digging. So, CIA, CTU, take notice: if you want answers and you want them now, call up your local pediatrician and ask to borrow their ear wax remover. Trust me, the bad guys will tell you anything you want to know.
Post Script:
On a lighter note (or heavier, depending on your view of things), Caitlin continues to thrive. As her ear wax grows in abundance, so does the rest of her body. She currently weights 17 lbs, 7 oz, which places her at the 98.13%tile. She measures 27.63 inches long, placing her at the 99.95%tile. She is meeting all developmental milestones, including rolling over, laughing, "talking," and lifting up her head and chest while on her tummy. She found her feet and loves trying to put them into her mouth. Lastly, Caitlin's two bottom teeth are coming in. Teething is bothering her and she has become a little fussy, but we will survive. Dr. P. gave us the go-ahead for solid foods in one month. We got a video camera for Christmas, so stay tuned for some cutting edge footage of Caitlin's adventures in eating!
I was nervous going into this appointment because Caitlin was scheduled for another round of immunizations. I didn't see the ear wax thing coming. As Dr. P. was performing her routine checks, she peeked into Caitlin's ears and said, "Hmmmm...she has a bit of wax build up in her right ear. I'm just going to get that out, o.k.?" Sure. When I remove wax from my ear, I use a Q-Tip and the sensation is somewhat pleasant. Instead of pulling out a Q-Tip, Dr. P. busted out a long, metal device resembling the instrument dentists use to scrape plaque away. I was not liking the looks of this, but then it got worse. Dr. P. asked me to hold Caitlin's hands. Now I knew we were in trouble, given that I had to restrain my baby daughter. As Dr. P. inserted the ear wax remover into Caitlin's ear I tried not to look, but it was sort of like driving past a car accident. You just can't help but stare. I watched Dr. P. dig into Caitlin's ear over and over again, each time removing a clump of orange ear wax. While it doesn't sound too traumatizing, trust me, it was brutal. Caitlin's screams must have scared off the majority of patients in the waiting room. As this was happening, Dr. P told me ear wax build up is hereditary and she asked, "Who is the waxy one in the family?" "My husband," I answered immediately, mostly because he wasn't there witnessing this trauma, therefore he gets the blame. Being an optimist, the positive spin on this experience is the shots did not bother Caitlin nearly as much as the ear digging. So, CIA, CTU, take notice: if you want answers and you want them now, call up your local pediatrician and ask to borrow their ear wax remover. Trust me, the bad guys will tell you anything you want to know.
Post Script:
On a lighter note (or heavier, depending on your view of things), Caitlin continues to thrive. As her ear wax grows in abundance, so does the rest of her body. She currently weights 17 lbs, 7 oz, which places her at the 98.13%tile. She measures 27.63 inches long, placing her at the 99.95%tile. She is meeting all developmental milestones, including rolling over, laughing, "talking," and lifting up her head and chest while on her tummy. She found her feet and loves trying to put them into her mouth. Lastly, Caitlin's two bottom teeth are coming in. Teething is bothering her and she has become a little fussy, but we will survive. Dr. P. gave us the go-ahead for solid foods in one month. We got a video camera for Christmas, so stay tuned for some cutting edge footage of Caitlin's adventures in eating!
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Caitlin's First Christmas
Merry Christmas! Our family had a wonderful time celebrating Caitlin's first Christmas. Because she was such a good girl, Santa brought Caitlin lots of toys, books, and new clothes (in size 6-12 months!). Matt and I were really excited to celebrate Christmas with Caitlin. She was mostly excited about eating wrapping paper and playing with trash. Oh well, maybe she'll be more enthused next year. Here are some pictures from the holiday. Enjoy!
Caitlin visited Grammy and Uncle Chris on Christmas Day. Grammy bought the beautiful Christmas dress that somehow remained stain-free all day long!
Santa brought Caitlin a Kick and Play Piano, which she loved playing with on Christmas morning.
The happy family celebrating Christmas Eve at Nana and Papa's house. Notice the adorable reindeer feet? Love it!
Caitlin loved meeting Santa. Can't you just feel the excitement? I think she asked him for milk and wrapping paper and she got her wish!
Caitlin visited Grammy and Uncle Chris on Christmas Day. Grammy bought the beautiful Christmas dress that somehow remained stain-free all day long!
Santa brought Caitlin a Kick and Play Piano, which she loved playing with on Christmas morning.
The happy family celebrating Christmas Eve at Nana and Papa's house. Notice the adorable reindeer feet? Love it! 
Caitlin loved meeting Santa. Can't you just feel the excitement? I think she asked him for milk and wrapping paper and she got her wish!Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Blessings
Last Sunday, we celebrated Caitlin's baptism at St. Mary's in Dedham. Caitlin looked like a little doll in mommy's Christening dress that hadn't seen the light of day in almost thirty two years. The dress fit her perfectly and the spit up stain on the collar was barely noticeable, thanks to some thorough washing by Grammy.
Prior to Caitlin's, I have only attended a handful of Christenings and I must have spent more time staring at the stained glass windows than watching the ceremony. I couldn't tell you for the life of me what happens at a baptism, except for the water over the head part. This speaks to the fact that I have become a huge church slacker in my old age. Both Matt and I grew up attending church every Sunday, or even worse, every Saturday afternoon at 4:00. We both attended C.C.D. and received every sacrament the Catholic church has to offer (except I was never confirmed, but don't tell my in-laws!) Despite our upbringings, Matt and I now only attend church on Christmas, Easter, and the occasional 11:30 Sunday mass. Since Caitlin was born, we haven't been to church at all.
So, being the church slacker that I am, I did not know what to expect at Caitlin's Christening. I knew I could not get away with staring at the stained glass windows for too long because this time I was required to participate. Before the ceremony, the deacon (if you want to know what a deacon is, please ask my sis-in-law, Meaghan-she was asked to stand up during the baptism and define deacon to the entire audience), explained what to expect, how to answer his questions, and reminded us to speak and sing-yes, sing-loudly. Because St. Mary's holds group Christenings, Matt and I had the benefit of watching two other families baptize their babies before our turn on the altar. Really, the Christening was simple. There was some speaking, some singing, and lots of standing and sitting, which is the trademark of a Catholic ceremony. The actual time on the altar was very brief. The deacon said a blessing, gave Caitlin a holy shower, and slathered her head and chest in very pungent oil, somewhat reminiscent of patchouli. Done.
During the baptism, the deacon spoke to those gathered about the significance of the sacrament and the blessings bestowed upon each new baby. This gave me some time to look at the stained glass windows after all, but it also gave me a moment to pause, reflect, and get my church on. I looked back at our families, smiling and snapping pictures. I looked down at Caitlin in my arms, trying to somehow wiggle out of the three layers of Christening dress. During that moment, I really did count my blessings. Matt and I truly are blessed to have a healthy, beautiful, and sweet baby girl. I think it is time I start thanking somebody, besides my O-B and my epidural, for bringing this little bundle into our lives. Maybe it is time Matt and I return to our churchy roots. Not only do I like the tradition of the family attending church on Sundays, I also like the tradition that follows mass (at least it did in my family)....doughnuts and the funny pages! A good Boston Cream, now that's a true blessing!
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