are things complicated yet?

Dear Jenni, please be really, really, really awesome at your new job in Memphis

After we located the liquid Tamiflu and began giving it to her, Claire proceeded to go insane.  As in, BATSHIT CRAZY, even for a nearly-one-year-old.

She was unreasonably fussy, threw tantrums at the drop of a hat and one after the other, had the attention span of a goldfish and walked in small circles around the room while making a high pitched whiny/distressed sounding noise.  She had incredible separation anxiety: if I walked across the room she flipped out.  She refused to take a bath.  (She looooooves the bath.)  She barely ate.  She didn't go to bed until 2 hours past her bedtime and it was a grand and mighty fight when she finally hit the rack.  Her care providers made a specific comment about how crazy she had behaved on Monday.

I know that all of this could be described as typical toddler behavior but she was just weird and not herself.  The change was sudden and dramatic.  I found myself wondering this morning, as she threw a gigantic fit about something really stupid, that this is what parents of kids who have reactions to vaccines must feel like.  Where was my darling, happy daughter?  Was she going to come back?  And, more importantly, what the hell happened here?

The answer was pretty obvious: Tamiflu.  Dr. H had specifically warned me that some kids have very severe behavioral reactions to it.  After 4 days on the medication, we stopped giving it to her.  Today she was happy as a butterfly, smiled oodles, waved to everyone at Wal-Mart and went to bed by 7. 

Weird.  And scary.

So, we're just sort of hoping that she doesn't have a flu virus incubating in her body since we're no longer prophylacting her.  It also turns out that a child didn't even have the flu - it was one of her care providers!  It's an airborne virus, easily transmitted through a sneeze or cough, but the fact that it wasn't one of the people who LICKS things that Claire then decides to lick, well, it made me feel like her chances of getting it are at least a LITTLE bit more remote.

However, there's obviously the problem that it's only September and there are months and months of cough, cold, flu and generic crud ahead of us.  She's going to get sick and then I'll get sick and it will suck.  I'm prepared for that eventuality.

We will all be getting flu shots next week.  I haven't decided yet if we're going to get H1N1 vaccines though.  I have yet to do the research on what exactly is in it and how I feel about the cost/benefit of something that is so new.  Generally, I'm a bit distrustful.

What rattles me to the core is 14-year-old Chloe Lindsey who died over the weekend from complications related to Swine Flu.  Chloe attended the same middle school in Ft Worth that my mother did and we regularly drive by it when we visit my grandparents.  She got sick on Wednesday and died on Sunday.  it is heart-breaking and so close to home.

You can bet your ass that if Claire has anything that resembles a sniffly nose we are high-tailing it to Dr H this winter.  With a cycle that could run so fast, single days count. 

Obviously, the media are hyping this up a bit.  The total number of forecast and historic flu deaths pales in comparison to more ordinarily tragic deaths that happen year-round.  They say her chances of being seriously impaired as a result of flu are remote.

And yet, I can't help but be hyper-aware that Claire is still so young and fragile.  She's not even going to be 18 months old by the time spring comes around.  She had bronchiolitis as a 7-month-old and this puts her at increased risk for future respiratory problems.  It's not the actual flu that kills most people; it's secondary bacterial infections like pneumonia that don't respond to antibiotic therapy.  This is what killed Chloe Lindsey over the course of 5 measly days.

I'm not scared of Claire getting the flu.  I'm scared of it morphing so quickly into something we can no longer treat.  That scares the shit out of me.

My very good friend Jenni happens to be a post-doc research associate at St Jude in Memphis and she is privileged enough to be studying this very topic: secondary bacterial infections as a result of influenza.  I know that she's smart (like, really, ridiculously smart) and practical and she'll tell it to me like it is if I called her to ask her what I should really spend my time worrying about.

But, for some reason, I can't find the courage to dial her this week.  I can't decide if she'll make me feel better or worse.

***

Edited to add that apparantly I have more smart friends than I realized!  My friend Holly studies influenza vaccines at a lab in California!  I have demanded that she tell me everything she knows and I will report back.

I totally wanted to deal with illness and stupid people while I am on my Girl's Weekend. TOTALLY.

Yesterday I arrived in sunny California for The Blathering.  It wasn't a stressful travel day, but it was long.  I left the house at 6 am, flew stand by to get on the earlier flight, arrived in Sacramento by noon and I was in my sedan on the way to Napa by 1230. 

I was feeling pretty efficient about the whole morning.  When I was finally in the car I took this big breath and relaxed and said, "Self, now it is time to start having FUN!"

Chris called, and while I updated him on my whereabouts I suddenly heard the baby yammering in the background.  Wait, wha?  The baby?  It's only, um, 230 in Texas and the baby doesn't usually get picked up until 330...why is the baby with you?

"Oh, um, well, the girls at daycare called and said that someone in her room had a confirmed case of H1N1 so I thoguht I should go pick her up and keep her home."

WHAT?

Claire had just been to the doctor the day before.  She was coughing, had a snotty nose and they located the source of her extreme fussiness as an ear infection.  She was not and had not been running a fever.  I was pretty sure she didn't have the flu, but what?  Now someone DOES?

I asked Chris to tell me PRECISELY what the girls at the daycare had told him.  He repeated himself and I was suddenly full of suspicions.

You see, I knew that hardly anyone is actually being tested specifically for H1N1 because the volume of potential cases is, at this point, overwhelming.  I suspected that it was actually PRESUMED swine flu and that either this parent was misinformed or the daycare workers had heard a phrase and jumped to a conclusion.

Add this to the fact that I knew, I JUST KNEW, that the director wasn't the kind of lady who makes plans in case of contagious illness.  I have asked her before what herplan is in case of a large outbreak and she always gives me this highly annoying rainbows and ponies canned answer.

"Oh, we plan to keep parents informed and just try to keep everything really clean and wash hands often."

This kind of "yay, hand sanitizer!" answer infuriates me because it totally ignroes the fact that young children and more specifically, MY CHILD WHO IS STILL CONSIDERED AN INFANT, are among the most at-risk for complications and death. 

I hadn't pressed her on it more because I hadn't yet figured out what I wanted her to do - but it was on my list to research a bit more when I got home.

So now I am sitting in the car, a frillion miles from my family, my baby is already sick and now there is some nutter parent who is using medical buzzwords to scare the crap out of people.  Greaaaaaat.

I call our pediatricion, who is so completely awesome.  I speak to her nurse.  The nurse says that it's pretty much impossible for this kid to have a confirmed case of swine flu because the state isn't accepting cultures for testing.  Rather, what they are doing is testing for Influenza A and B.

If you test positive for B then you have seasonal flu.  Go to bed.  But if you test positive for A then you MIGHT have swine flu.  Or it might be seasonal flu.  Type A just puts you in the "maybe it's H1N1" category and gives your doctor a little more information to treat you.

So I call the director back and I explain this.  This child cannot possibly have a "confirmed case of swine flu" unless his Dad works for the freaking CDC.  So this parent is mis-informed or has a quack doctor or you guys are making shit up. I get more canned happy.

"Oh, Mrs. Stevens, we are doing everything we can to clean that room.  It's probably the cleanest room we have today!  And yes, all I can tell is what we were told, that the child has swine flu and I mean, uh, I assume that this means it is confirmed by someone.  Because the parent told us that: confirmed case of swine flu."

I tell her that if she is assuming anything that is not appropriate.  She needs to call that child's parent immediately and get more information.  She's reluctant to do this.  I explain that what I am lacking is RELIABLE INFORMATION.  I explain that this is really quite serious and for my daughter's age group the consequences of not knowing precisely what she's been exposed to could prove to be fatal. 

This parent doesn't know what she's talking about and you need to call her and bring her up-to-date on current protocol for influenza so you can keep the other children safe. I can't properly treat MY child unless I know exactly what she's been exposed to.  This information is very important and has far-reaching impact beyond sending kids home today and ordering more hand sanitizer.

I am completely exasperated that this women hasn't done a whit of research on the virus and current CDC guidelines/standards for age groups that she is responsible for.  She wraps up with a weak, "Well I also have a call into our licensing board to see what they think we should do."  Clearly, this woman is ill-prepared for both swine flu and a demanding parent like me.

40 minutes later she says that the child did test positive for Type A and it is PRESUMED swine flu.  Ha.  I told you so, bitches.

I call Dr. H and relay this key information. She says that since Claire has been in close contact (in the same room) with a child who has tested positive for Influenza A, because Claire is so young, still an infant really, she would strongly consider putting her on a prophylactic dose of Tamiflu.  Tamiflu isn't approved for children under one year of age but Dr. H says that she knows I'm a smart mom who wants a lot of information, and she wants to go over all of our options and the rationale for each.  I appreciate this a great deal.

Since Claire is 2 weeks from being one year old, she's confortable giving her the medication.  It can make some kids act really weird and we'll have to watch her closely to make sure she doesn't develop any symptoms anyway (fever, chest congestion, reduced fluid intake all mean she needs to be seen immediately).  But, in the end, I'm with Dr. H. 

We find a pharmacy who can dispense it in liquid format and she'll be on that for the next 10 days.  I'll be out here in California for most of it so Chris will be watching her like a hawk.

I miss my baby.

13 things you should know about me if you're getting ready for Sacramento

1.  I am a Procrastinating Packer.  I have a half-packed suitcase, one load of laundry in the dryer and another in the washer.  Both are only being washed because I found a SINGLE ARTICLE OF CLOTHING I wanted to bring with me.  Of course, I located the articles about an hour apart, thus necessitating two entire loads of laundry for a measly two garments.

I made a list of what to wear.  It is divided out by day and event and includes accessories.

Even after all this effort, I will very likely proceed to wear the same three things over and over again for 5 days.  Please pretend you do not notice.

2.  I am not bringing a bathing suit.

3.  I would maybe like to spend some time, um, shopping on Saturday?  This is so lame, I KNOW, but hear me out.  I never, ever have time to leisurely browse the stores with my girlfriends these days.  It's always a hurried rush to get in/get out so I can get back to my responsibilities like When Is Dinner and Who Is Picking The Baby Up and I Should Probably Spend Time With That Dude I Share A Bed With.

I want to browse.  I want to buy coffee and sit and chat.  I want to try on the spangly dress that I will never, ever be invited to anywhere cool enough to wear it.  I want to take pictures in the dressing room of stupid clothes and put them on the internet.

Normally, I haaaaaaaaate people who walk by Banana Republic on vacation and want to go inside.  HELLO WE HAVE BANANA AT HOME.  And guess what?  They have the same clothes in that one as the one at home.  Usually I think shopping on vacation is a huge waste of time.  But this trip?  If someone wants to cruise the shops for a little while I am totally game. 

4.  I can't wait to play the HGTV drinking game.  Since I don't have cable I have really been building this one up.  If we end up not playing it I will be really sad.

5.  Our wine sponsor Natalie is the bestest, coolest, most fun girl without a blog ever.  I have been telling her for YEARS to Get Thee A Blog.  Alas, she will not listen.  I went to college with her and here is one of my favorite pictures of us. We are about to go see Willie Nelson play in a pasture in a tiny town called Snook.  Because that's what girls do in Texas on the weekends.

6.  I'm not Catholic.  But I think all or most of you maybe are?  So, just prep me if we plan on any group prayers because I will totally mess it up at the end and say the doxology kind of loud while everyone else is quiet, and maybe everyone will look directly at me when I say it because I'm the only one talking during quiet time and then I will be MAJOR embarrassed.  Because dude, I just ruined the prayer.

Something like this MIGHT have happened when I accompanied a Catholic roommate to church once in college.  And I might have never gone back with her until she got married 8 years later and I was in the wedding.  The end.

7.  My husband will be taking Claire on their first SOLO road trip while I am away.  I will be calling/texting him frequently because, well, I will miss them.  Also, I will want the A&M football score just like Jennie and he will be at the game.  (So, no worries Jennie, I have the hook-up for us.)

8.  Claire has an ear infection.  So, not only am I leaving my husband on his own for the weekend, he's going on a road trip and the baby is sick. I was feeling pretty guilty about this earlier today until I remembered that wheeeeee! I can take a legit PURSE on my trip.  One that doesn't have any diapers in it!  WOW! 

9.  It's 11 pm and the red battery thing is flashing at me and I STILL have not finished packing.  We're leaving at 6 am tomorrow because I am trying to fly stand by so....you only get 9 things.  See you all soon!!

Welcome to Procrastination Station, where everything sucks and it's easy to feel bad about yourself!

1.  Right now, I am stressing out about a rental car.  A stupid rental car.  See, I am flying in on Wednesday to Sacramento and I need to figure out how to get myself to St. Helena that afternoon.  That's it!  A measly 47 miles!  It's proving much more difficult than I thought, especially since I waited until the last minute.

Nobody wants to rent me a car one-way and all of the car service companies I can find won't go to Napa.  So then I'm left with renting a car that I don't need for the whole weekend at a cost of about $250.  I mean, I would definitely USE the car but it's just that it's superfluous and annoying.  I even looked at taking the bus, but Greyhound doesn't go to Napa either.

So, I don't know what I'm going to do but it's pissing me off since I waited so long to deal with it.  I will probably rent the stupid car for the week and then make everyone ride with me because HI! I HAVE A CAR!  And then I will return it with a lot of trash in it, because I'm MAD.  Maybe I should just rent a bicycle.  You know, if they'll let me.

2.  I'm not ready to leave on my trip yet.  Wait, did you know I'm going on a trip.  YES!  A TRIP!  I have been meaning to post the cute little sunshine badge over on the right for months and months but people, I am lucky to get clean underwear on every day and posting that badge was at the bottom of my list.

Anyway, going to Sacramento and Napa and San Francisco!  Hanging out with my awesome college friend Natalie and my Bloggy Friends!  Going to posh wine parties and hanging out with the ladies!  WOOOO!  Very excited!

3.  So, back to my pre-trip freak out.  I'm running out of time to prepare.  This trip has completely snuck up on me.  There is a mountain of laundry.  And I wanted to buy sassy new jeans.  And I have to buy my cutesy little presents for everyone so they will think I'm gracious.  I have not wardrobe planned.  (What does one wear to a posh wine party, anyway?  Probably something I don't own.)  I haven't decided if I will check my bag or carry on.  I am out of Key Makeup Items and I don't have time to order them online and I definitely don't want to go to the mall tomorrow.  I will probably wake up tomorrow with ten giant zits.  SUCH IS MY LUCK.

4.  Claire is sick.  Chris is sick.  And I'm leaving on Wednesday for the weekend.  I know that he will be able to handle whatever happens but I feel badly leaving my husband to fend for himself with a sick kid.  It seems...cruel.

5.  There is a football game in two weeks that I am supposed to find a baby sitter for and, um, I have not done that yet.  It's the A&M vs Arkansas game at Jerry World and it's kind of a big deal in the sense that the tickets cost too much to bail on and I'm interested to check out the stadium.  Claire obvs will not be attending, but everyone else in my family wants to (which strikes a lot of my potential sitters) and I need to locate a sitter who is not my mother.  I will be calling Candice in the morning and praying she is available, but this is just one of the many, many, many things I have procrastinated on this month.

6.  My daughter is turning one year old in 2 weeks and I have done exactly NOTHING to plan her a birthday party.  I want to have a really big, fun party but I have yet to realize that yo, A'Dell, that shit don't plan itself.  So, um, 2 weeks.  Yeah.  I'm still not sure what I'm going to do about that. It's hard not to feel totally crappy about this one. I also need to schedule her one-year portraits and I haven't made that phone call either, even though I know my baby photog is mega popular and fills her schedule fast.  Lordy, I suck.  I missed the 9-month photos, please don't let me miss the one-year.

7.  For everyone who has asked me what Claire wants for her birthday, the answer is, "Anything a person who is 1-year-old would enjoy."  She has no further comments and I have no further time to research it.

8. I have not sent my family monthly pictures since, um, April?  And I have completely lost all of my photos from last November.  Don't even get me started on the video files.  Dude, I never thought technology would make me feel bad about myself, but that video camera does.  Every time I look at it I think of all the files inside of it that need editing and then I feel overwhelmed and I leave the room so I don't have to look at it any more.

9.  Let's turn this around though.  If you go sign up for my awesome friend Natalie's newsletter about WINE from her AWESOME WINERY, Astrale e Terra, you will be entered to win a freaking MAGNUM OF WINE.  That is a giant bottle of yummy, delicious, bad-mood-busting booze!  Natalie was nice enough to send wine to our bloggy party and, well, I love her even more for that.

Sign up!  Natalie is a clever writer and you'll like her updates.

(Plus, I don't think hundreds and hundreds of people have signed up so, you know, your chances are probably pretty good.  WORTH THE CLICK.)

11 months later, these are the things I wish people had told me when I was pregnant

Over the past 11 months I have been surprised a leeeetle too often at some of the NO DUH moments I've experienced that nobody, not a single soul, warned me about.  Thus, as a matter of public information, I present to you my very random notes.

What, exactly, does "they grow so fast" mean?

I'll admit to not having a freaking CLUE how fast Claire was going to grow.

In the first 6 months it's entirely possible to blow through THREE completely cute and teeny wardrobes that your friends and relations have spent hundreds on:

• Newborn
• 0-3 month (Yes, this is different than Newborn, even though there's a ZERO in it and ZERO would indicate Newly Born Baby (aka NEWBORN), yes?)
• 3-6 month

Claire was wearing 3-6 month clothes at 2 months.  Babies literally grow so stinking fast for the first sixth months they will be busting out of pajamas in the morning that were only sort of tight the night before.  THIS TRULY HAPPENED TO US.

People will also give you a BOATLOAD of 0-6 months clothes.  Mostly because they are so teeny and cute and irresistible in the stores.  Knowing what I do now, even I cannot resist the wee pink ruffly onesies at Nordstrom Rack for $25 to give to my friends.  I am very stupid in this regard and my mom friends probably roll their eyes when they open gifts from me, but I don't really care.  WEE PINK RUFFLY ONESIE!  SQUEEE!

Buy a couple of things that you love in the smaller range if you must, but focus on buying for that 6-12 month window.  Claire fit into this size at 5 months and she'll wear some items beyond 12 months.  For us, it's definitely the most versatile size in the first year.  She has a lot of clothes I wish I had bought in this size instead of 3-6. 

I actually didn't know that her growth would plateau so suddenly once she started getting mobile.  I voiced a concern to her doctor at month 7 when Claire hadn't packed on 2 or 3 pounds since our last visit.  I furrowed my brow.  I was gently shown the growth chart where Claire was sitting squarely at 54% - just as she had been for months.  Okay.

It also means that anything for babies, ANYTHING AT ALL, has a very limited lifespan of use.  They're only a baby for a year; after that they turn into Toddler Creatures of Destruction.

Think about it - after a year you'll be done with bottles, swaddling blankies, bouncy seats, Excer-Saucer, play mat gyms, Bumbo, Boppy, bottle drying racks, steam sterilizer, etc.  BORROW THESE THINGS.  I URGE YOU.  

(It seems so obvious, yes?  And yet...nobody mentioned this to me.)

• Bouncy seat was old news in 3 months.  (Invaluable Parenting Tool though.  MUST HAVE.)

• Hated the Bumbo entirely. 

• In and out of swaddling blankets in 4 months and then I was too scared of SIDS to give her any blanket at all once she could roll.

• The play mat gym lasted until about month 4 too, but towards the end I could tell she wasn't thrilled about being there - too many other exciting things to look at elsewhere. 

• Excersaucer lasted for 5 months.  Excellent child-containment device.

• Baby Swing only took us to month 5 as well.  There was a 6-week-period where it literally saved our lives.  My mom actually bought us a travel swing for her house, and I let her, because during that 6-week period I literally COULD NOT IMAGINE what life would be like without a swing.  I truly thought that Claire would need that swing until she was like, 5 years old.  Or at least the next month.

• See?  Sleep deprivation really can make you crazy.

No question, these items are awesome and you will have moments where you think you can't live without them, but it would be so much better to borrow the pricier ones if you can.

(Also, if you need these things?  Please speak to me and we can discussing liberating them from our attic.)

Bottles.  WTF is going on with bottles?

As a mother who planned to BF, bottles were completely confusing to me.  I just did not understand. 

My limited-exposure thoughts: 

Do not buy bottles that only hold 3.5 ounces.  You will use them for about 3 months and then, OOPS, the baby wants more than 3.5 ounces and now this bottle is useless to you after only 3 months.  FABULOUS.  I hope it is recyclable.

Maybe I missed the boat here, but I do not get why a smaller bottle is better in some cases.  Just buy the bigger ones that you can use longer; you can fill a 6 ounce bottle up halfway and it works the same.

Bottle washing:  I beg of you, PUT THEM IN THE DISHWASHER. 

Do not buy Dr. Brown's bottles unless your baby has a known problem and needs their anti-gas magical properties.  Otherwise you will wash ten million stupid bottle parts for no reason and you will sit at the sink night after night thinking, "Fuck you Dr. Brown.  Who do you think you are with your ten million bottle parts?  I HATE YOU."

(I have plans to back over my collection of Dr. Brown's bottles and film it for the entire internet to see their crumpled destruction.  This is the level of my hatred.)

Dresses: they are so cute, but please buy then in sizes 12 months +

Before the kid is walking, dresses are a pain in the ass.  On a newborn they look silly because, let's be honest, newborns are the cutest naked (with a diaper) wrapped in a soft blankie so you can look at their teeny belly and toes any time you like. 

When she starts crawling, the dress is just mean - her knees will catch on it and pull the dress down from her neck.  She'll trip up on it and get mad and then you'll spend all damn afternoon gathering it up and tucking it into her bloomers.  (Yay, another thing to look after.)

But when she starts to walk?  OH MY!  Dresses are super cute now!

Obvs, go for a dress for special occasions and parties, but the play dress?  Save it for later.  Buy 12 months and up for maximum utility.

Size 1 diapers are not the smallest diapers.  You'll need to buy some NEWBORN ones.

I figured it out when we brought her home from the hospital.    It's logical that ONE is the lowest number, so it's the smallest diaper, right?  ONE IS FOR NEW BABIES. YES?

Wrong.  You need "Newborn" diapers.  But only buy one pack because if you have a giant, ten-pound kid you'll skip right up to size one anyway.

You don't really need a diaper bag.  Just a really big purse.  A diaper bag will make you feel frumpy.

There's nothing that says HEY! I'M A MOMMY AND I MIGHT HAVE POOP UNDER MY FINGERNAILS! like a big old diaper bag with a giant dolly clipped to it.  I have a couple that were marketed for this purpose, and while all the pockets are nice, I tend to just toss some diapers, toys and wipes in my gigantic Coach bag that I used to take to work.

We're never out of the house for longer than 3 or 4 hours and that's enough to get us through.  A giant diaper bag is heavy and I already have a 20-something pound baby.  I don't need more crap to carry. 

The very concept of needing a specific purse to carry diapers and toys is definitely Marketing Trickery of the Highest Order.

Buy five cheap tank tops from Old Navy before you deliver.  Maybe ten.  And some cheap yoga pants.

Wear them the first four months.  Do not wear anything you care about wearing again in the future during this window of time.  Your baby will throw up often and unexpectedly and it will stain.  You need some things you won't feel any guilt over when you throw them away.

***

Anything else that you felt the baby books left out?

The story about Claire's first football game. All two minutes of it.

Labor Day weekend started early for us on Thursday.  I love taking time off during the week and just staying at home doing nothing.  It feels so frivolously luxurious to take time off, have no plans and eat cheeseburgers.

We went for a run in the morning.  This is QUITE unusual since I refuse to do this if it's hotter than 90 degrees.  The brutal summer heat seems to be breaking, so I leashed up the dog and off we went. Of course, Jake was a total pain in the ass.  He is old, can't see or hear as well and walking next to or in front of the stroller at a consistent pace is just BEYOND his capabilities as man's best friend at this point in his life.

It's ok though.  We love him anyway.  He came with us on the first half mile then we dropped him off at the house and continued on.  He was tired but obviously completely thrilled that we went on a WALK!  WAAAAAALK!  WALKWALKWALKWALK!!

After we got cleaned up, we hit the local hamburger shop for some lunch.  Claire discovered lids.  She likes them.  (Also a moment of: Why Do We Even Bother Buying Toys?)

That night, Claire threw a gigantic, humongous fit if I dared to tell her that she could not play with and LICK my flip flops.  Flip flops that I wear to dirty WAL-MART for crying out loud.  Obviously, these are totally inappropriate for her to gnaw on and many tears were shed since I refused to give in and hand over the dirty shoe.  (Responsible parenting at its best, people!)

Everything turned around once she found the chairs on wheels in the kitchen.  She merrily pushed them back and forth all day long, at a speed that was both alarming and impressive.

(Also?  These monkey pajamas?  Are my New Favorite Thing.  They're so funny.)

On Friday, we loaded up the family and flew to College Station for the season opener of Fightin' Texas Aggie Football.  The last time we took Claire flying she refused to wear her headset.  I thought it might have been a fluke, but it turns out not. 

As soon as she saw the earmuffs she looked at them as if they were a Giant Black Monster That Eats Baby Heads (OH MY!).  I still tried to cram them on her wildly moving head.  I figured that maybe once she saw how quiet they made things, it might be ok.

Nope.  She refused to have anything to do with them and actually, she preferred that they be removed from her direct line of sight.  She sat in the plane for an hour without ear protection.  It's not that loud in there, but still, it's THE POINT.  I cannot be responsible for damaging her precious little ears.  (I can comfortably sit without earmuffs on, but I'd rather wear them so I can talk to Chris and hear the radio.) I have an appointment with Google to figure out how other parents do this; we can't be the only people with this problem.  (The answer to "how to best protect a toddler's ears in your personal aircraft" is likely on a website called Truly First World Parenting Problems.)

When my parents bought our season tickets in January, Claire was a mere 3 months old.  In the spirit of all-inclusiveness and not radically changing our lives just because we have a baby, my parents and I agreed to buy Claire a season ticket and we'd evaluate whether she'd be attending games this fall when the time came.  At least we'd have the option.

Truly, we had no idea what sort of kid she would turn out to be.  We didn't know if she'd be walking by football season, when bedtime would be or what sorts of things made her happy or mad.  It was all a big mystery.  (Really, you could call the entire experience of being a parent that: A Big Mystery.)

So last weekend when we had to make a choice about whether she'd be attending her first Aggie Football game or not, we decided to go for it.  We take Claire to a lot of places and she does just fine.  She's generally a flexible kid who enjoys seeing new things.  As long as we make time for her to get some naps and keep her belly full, she rolls with it.

This is why we weren't all that concerned about taking her to the game.  I was a little hesitant since it was a 6pm kickoff (bedtime is 630 for her), but she has been known to stay up late and party with the proper motivation.  We figured that the worst case scenario was that she would be wiggly or tired and someone might have to go sit with her on the concourse and let her run around or fall asleep.

Neither of these things happened.

Claire fell asleep in her stroller on the way to the stadium.  We parked the stroller in the designated area and I put her in a sling.  I figured maybe she'd just stay asleep, tucked nicely next to me in a safe spot.  Instead, Claire woke up and sleepily waved to everyone as we walked up the ramps.  She smiled and waved and laid her head on my chest.  It was cute.  I was feeling good about this.  We were going to be Impressive Parents!  People would smile at us and wonder How Do They Do It?  YES!  WE ARE AMAZING PARENTS!  Claire was going to retain her title as Best Baby EVER!

Um, that didn't really happen. 

When people started applauding (which is like, every 90 seconds at pre-game for the home opener), she flipped out.  Completely.  Flipped.  Out.  She did the open-mouthed silent scream.  Her entire body vibrated in fear.  She was frightened and scared and more distressed than I'd ever seen her.  She started screaming in a guttural, undulating way, all the while looking up at me like, "Stop this.  Make it stop!  I am so scared Mommy!"

My reaction was completely visceral.  I knew we had to leave immediately.  My baby was frightened and we needed to go.  So we left.  We left our seats not two minutes after we'd arrived in them.  We walked across campus to a friend's home.  I put her to bed. 

Claire will not be attending any more football games this year.  I feel kind of dumb that it never even crossed our minds that the noise might frighten her.  We thought it might wake her up or she might want to explore, but we didn't count on the atmosphere scaring the everliving DAYLIGHTS out of her.

So, Claire's first trip to Aggieland was good, but it turns out she's not ready for football.  We'll try next year. 

Conclusion:  So, THAT'S why I've never seen a one-year-old at a football game.  Huh.
 
***

This is me and my HELLO FOOTBALL SEASON I MISSED YOU SO adult beverage.

Chris really hates this big bow, but I kind of love it.



Here we are, mere moments from The Scary Meltdown in the stadium.





The next day we went to Central Market to pick up some supplies and I snapped The Best Photo Ever of Claire in the grocery store.  Please note that Claire isn't wearing any PANTS, because her father didn't think they were necessary.

(Personally, I think Claire is of an age where she should be wearing both pants AND shoes in public.  What do you guys think?  What's the age cut off for pants and shoes on a kid before people start giving you Looks?)



And then on Sunday we went over to Jennie's house for her fabulous housewarming party.  her new house is so, so, so cute.  Claire got to meet Kyle, and while there wasn't a lot of interactive playing going on, Claire enjoyed Kyle's toys.  I think Kyle was thinking something like, "Duuuuuude.  This girl is like, ALL OVER THE PLACE."  She was standing up a lot and showing off her new moves.  Two days later she was full-on walking.



Thus concludes this post with Far Too Many Pictures.

I call this one "Potpourri"

Tonight, I am going to hit the "publish" button.  I SWEAR.

I have written so many posts in the past few weeks that sit unfinished in my drafts folder.  SO MANY.  All the while things keep happening and I keep not writing about them.  Every time I sit down it's easier to read things other people write instead of bothering to write my own.

Claire is walking.  It started last Saturday with onesie-twosie steps, progressed to three-four steps at a time on Tuesday and today (Thursday) it's 15 or 20 in a row.  She's even mastered the art of CHANGING DIRECTION.  Seeing my daughter freaking WALK across the kitchen blows my mind like nothing else.

I remember one day, a long time ago, when I could put her on a blanket, leave the room and she'd be in the exact same place I left her.  No more, my friends.  NO MORE.  As Manda told me, it's GAME OVER now.

Enter the Tot Lok.  We have not childproofed, uh, anything at all really.  There are poisons in the cabinets under the sink.  There are sharp Cuisinart blades in another one.  And all kinds of baby-killing chemicals in the bathroom cabinets.  It hasn't occurred to Claire yet that cabinets open and fun things might be hiding inside, so we haven't been too worried.  (Obviously, I know that she could decide to scamper in there at any moment, so we've been pretty watchful.)

Sure, I could just move the baby-killing things to another location but we are severely space-challenged in this badly designed home with NO CLOSETS.  There is quite literally no place to put unwanted, baby killing items.  Everything must stay where it already lives.  Even if it IS a baby-killing item, we still have to clean bath tubs and toilets and wash dishes around here.

I bought some magnetic door closer thingys called Tot Loks because my friend Becky told me they were great and they had the most Amazon reviews that seemed credible.  If the past week is any indication of Claire's capacity to learn new things I think we need to get these suckers on the door STAT.  All the reviews at Amazon also said they were a total pain in the ass to install so this is totally going to be a job for Chris.  Everyone wish him luck, Amazon says he'll need it.

So, next up is Blurb.  Have you all used the new Blurb?  It is kind of amazing.  It's basically a super simple desktop publishing program a la Quark for all you 90's yearbook folks.  You can change text and image box sizes and it's all fancy and high-end with their magazine-style layouts.  I'd ordered a small book last year to check out the quality and it was nice.  I looked at a LOT of these sites like mypublisher, books from shutterfly, etc and this was the only one that was acceptable to me.  Everything else was kind of cheap-o or had marginal print quality.

Actually, it was beyond acceptable, it was really nice.  And people, I AM DISCRIMINATING.  My day-job is to meticulously analyze print quality and color replication and Blurb?  Their books were great.  I didn't have to have PhotoShop or InDesign (or, even know how to USE those programs) to get it done nicely.  LOVE.  I am totally out of the business of paper scrapbooking and I am all digital now.  No more 4 x 6 prints.  No more doodads and glue and paper scraps.  No more...anything messy at all really.  HOORAY!

I put together an entire album for 2008 in three evenings.  THREE EVENINGS.  DONE!  This is the internet at work folks, in all its glory and awesomeness.  I am so glad that I was not born in pioneer days.  I would have made a terrible pioneer lady what with all the dirt and camping and no Mac Books.  *Shudder.  CAMPING.*

We have decided that Jake is getting old.  I know, huge surprise for a dog that's 13, right?  Well, over the past year he has just been more underfoot and in the way and generally far more annoying.  At first we chalked it up to Baby.  We're not looking out for him as much anymore, we're all a little more stressed, he's a little more needy these days, Claire always has food to toss at him so WHY NOT hang out as close as possible?

But over the past few months it's gotten really bad.  Like, I'll go across the kitchen, put something away and as I turn around Jake is RIGHT THERE and his response time to move back out of the way is delayed by about 5 seconds, so I trip on him. And then I feel bad because I just stepped on the dog and we don't ever take him for a walk any more because he gets tangled in the stroller and LAWSY MERCY we are bad dog parents I love you Jake here's a treat good boy now go away I have to put the baby to bed and your tags jingle so you have to leave the room.

I keep thinking about The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, which I watched last night, and how the baby dying at the end really disturbs me.  Seriously, I have not been able to stop thinking about it all day.  I just...really don't like it when babies die in the movies.  Even if they are 80-year old reverse aging Brad Pitt babies.  It was just sad.

The girl who baby sat for Claire two weeks ago got in a car accident last week.  She was driving along, minding her own business when a 16-year-old girl on a bicycle came out of freaking NOWHERE into the road and, well, the babysitter hit her.  The girl rolled up over the hood and cracked her windshield.  Babysitter was totally freaked out, did the 911 thing...turns out the girl has a broken leg but is otherwise OK.  The cops cited the girl for whatever amounts to jaywalking with a bike and getting hit by a car because you are STUPID.  Babysitter is not at fault whatsoever.

So, it's clearly not her fault, right?  But she still has to pay the deductible to get her windshield replaced even though she didn't do anything wrong.  And she's worried that the parents are going to sue her (for what, I have no clue, but you know, everyone wants to sue you so it's a legit concern).  Stuff like this really pisses me off.  I mean, it's so not Babysitter's fault that this stupid girl didn't look both ways before she crossed the road and now she's having to deal with all this crap when really?  The girl and her parents should be all, "Babysitter, we are SO GLAD everyone is ok.  Accidents happen.  Let us pay for your windshield and maybe give you some money for your trouble.  We are sorry our daughter was stupid."  I just really get annoyed when people are stupid, don't own up to it and try to blame someone else.

Sounds like that time someone rear-ended us ON PURPOSE and then Chris got slapped, RIGHT?  ARGH.

The end.  I mean, PUBLISH.

I always start with the best of intentions

One thing that I will always regret from this past year is that I didn't write more. 

I intended to write volumes.  I intended to write every single day.  I wanted to record sweet moments and milestones. I wanted to share her first year with her relatives that live near and far and I wanted to be able to look back and remember this all vividly. I wanted to own every moment that I possibly could.

I wanted to send out pictures every month.  I wanted to edit a simple video of her antics that I'd recorded and send that out monthly too.  I wanted to document her life with us in the most obsessive-compulsive way possible.  I visualized myself as an old woman, watching videos of her baby and reading about day-to-day memories that I'd written.

Plus, I am not sure we've signed on for Baby #2 so, you know, THIS MIGHT BE ALL WE GET.  I've always known that and have been painfully aware of it.  Every time Claire grows up a little and leaves some remnant of babyhood behind, my heart wells up a bit.  "I guess that's the last of this then..." 

I sigh and fold up whatever garment she's outgrown. I've put away the toy that is no longer interesting, that she once loved so much we had mild panic attacks when we couldn't locate it.

I had an insatiable, unreasonable, sometimes tear-inducing desire to capture it all, enjoy it all, remember it all.  The phrase, "savor this" crossed my mind with unreasonable frequency.

My great aunt Lillie once told me that the happiest time in her life was when she was at home with her babies.  Lillie is a pretty sharp tack, and she has five kids, so I took her words to heart.  She, along with many others, urged me to enjoy this precious, darling, baby time.  It goes by so fast.

But instead I found myself simply living it and getting by day-to-day.  Life with a newborn, baby and then toddler with two working parents has far surpassed my expectations in terms of time, attention and juggling skills required.

I definitely picked my battles.  I chose to sleep instead of write at least two hundred times.  I chose to spend the evening with my husband instead of editing photos about her day another 100 times.  And still, even though I know I'm doing the best that I can, I still kind of beat myself up when I see I've barely made any notes about the past month. 

Because this month?  IT'S GONE. POOF.  I'll never get Month 10 back.  I probably didn't take enough pictures of her grinning with two teeth (she has 5 now) or record her crawling enough (Lord knows THAT'S gonna be over by week's end).

Month 10 is over.  The month where she figured out how to stand on her own and when she gave up bottles spontaneously.  It was the month she figured out how to push her own high chair across the kitchen floor while walking behind it.  The month she listened to us when we told her "NO.  Do not dip your hands in the dog's water bowl."  It was the month she cut her first tooth on the top - a much more dramatic and painful event than the smaller bottom two were.

(At least I took her stupid bear picture this month though.  Only 2 more to go and I'll have a nice set for the year.)

 

All this to say that I know she won't be a baby forever but she will always be my child.  I can always think of her as my little girl - long after she's reached voting age.  We will have a lot of time together and I have been assured many times that it only gets better. 

This baby?  She's not a baby any more.  She refuses to be cradled like one.  She is rambunctious.  She very nearly walks.  She needs to wear shoes in public.  She eats crackers when we visit the local wine bar and she eyes my glass with appropriate curiosity.  She's learning, growing and changing every single stinking day and I should stop mourning the arrival of another bedtime every evening. 

We have lots of time together and countless more memories to make.  I don't have to record all of it so long as I actually live it.  And if I'm 90 and forgetful, I do have lots of pictures and videos.  They just won't be nicely edited with pithy commentary.  (Because I am unreasonable, this pains me.  Perhaps I'll have time when I'm older.)