Posted by Lily on Nov 2, 2009 in
Uncategorized Cameron was ready for Halloween. Months ago. Practically the day halloween costumes were put on the shelves (you know, in July) Cameron’s Granny Annie bought him a Tigger costume.
Unfortunately for Tigger costumes everywhere, there will never be a baby to do them better justice.
Then, there is Cameron’s Aunt Amy and Jen. And they found a dinosaur costume that they couldn’t pass up.
And after seeing him parade around in it, we couldn’t agree more.
The entire span of costume wearing time was approximately one action packed hour, followed by complete collapse in bed. Not sure it was even dark yet.
Next year perhaps he’ll make it to a house. Or at least stay awake long enough to see the Halloween sun set.
Posted by Lily on Oct 29, 2009 in
Uncategorized It is really impossible to know where to begin. Because we now have a one year old.
And there is no way that we have a one year old. Because we have a baby. A baby. A little, tiny baby. A baby who only uses sippy cups now, laughing at others who still choose to use bottles. Really? bottles? Seriously mom, how baby is that?!
A baby, who incredibly, has a tooth.
And walks.
About three weeks before his birthday, he decided there were a lot of things he needed to accomplish before the big 1-0, because really, it is downhill from there. So he grew a tooth. A process that for his father and I, was definitely more painful than if we had one of our own extracted.
Then came the decision to walk. Literally, one day while his Auntie Reed was visiting he picked up Snuggle Pig (who definitely deserves a post all his own), stood up, and started walking around the living room. He’d fall down periodically, but that was it. That was when he decided to start walking. No trial and error for a few weeks, just one decisive action. He’s been walking ever since.
He has never once held anyone’s hand to walk and he continues to refuse. Because seriously, Mom? Big Kids Do Not Need Assistance. This is not the only area of his life that he is steadfast in his ways. I often marvel at how someone so little could have such firm opinions on things. His father does not marvel. He has his own ideas.
He isn’t talking much, he says Mama and Daddy, and to be honest, his first word was actually Dodger, much to the chagrin of John. It is more of a Bober or Doder, so for awhile we could pretend it was gibberish, but then he started going up to the grey cat and saying Bober!
Following in his mother’s footsteps the animals are one of his most favorite parts of life. He routinely goes up to Serena to give her kisses on her nose, pat her on the back, or lean against her. Remarkably she is quite tolerant of him. Perhaps it is the pounds of rawhides she gets when he is near.
He spends as much time as possible outside, already entering into battles with his parents when they make him go inside due to darkness or cold.
There are dozens more fun things he does, each day surprising us with a new sound or face or interesting article he read in the New York Times that he’d like to discuss over breakfast…
And while my heart breaks as I watch over my shoulder as babyhood slowly fades away, it is immediately repaired by the promise of all the amazing things that lie ahead.
Posted by Lily on Oct 23, 2009 in
Uncategorized I haven’t abandoned the blog, promise. working on some updates and upgrades. If i could put under construction I would. Look for a shiny new Cameron is one year post later this weekend!
Posted by Lily on Sep 17, 2009 in
Uncategorized Somewhere in the past couple of weeks, by baby has turned into a boy. Maybe I noticed it because we started to occasionally put clothes back on him. Or maybe he literally turned into a little boy overnight. Or maybe I was just able to catch a glimpse of him at the exact moment the universe tears and I’m able for a split second to see him as anything other than the little nugget who could only sleep at night if he was on my chest.
Cameron turned 11 months old on Monday. Ever since then I’ve been trying to stop The Time Train by myself with all my might, to little effect. If anything, it has sped it up. It is impossible that one year is less than a month away. Impossible. He is already asking for the keys to the car. Something he will not get until he is at least 25.
A 25 year old driver with no teeth.
Posted by Lily on Sep 3, 2009 in
Uncategorized It has been a busy month. A month full of firsts. First trip to the beach. First baseball game. First hot dog at first baseball game. First ear infection, rendering the first trip to the mountains a no-go. First tooth. Wait, no. No first tooth. Still waiting for that. The first kindergartner with no teeth.
And….First….Night…Without….Waking….Up. I’m sure by stating this fact publicly he will now spend the next month waking up every hour at night. But oh, what a glorious week it has been of consistent sleep. And if he chooses to stop, it will be o.k because I now know that deep down, my child has the ability to sleep through a night. Something I thought impossible, along with his ability to grow teeth.
Here are some pictures of his recent adventures; none of the first ear infection because his father wouldn’t let me take a photo of that milestone. Suffice to say the scarring of the first ear infection was definitely far worse for the parents than the child. Especially the parent who had to sit with the child at the pediatrician’s office while medication was forced into him in an attempt to get his raging fever down, blood drawn, and urine samples collected. He’s a good dad.
And for those of you in shock at the hotdog saying that really a child of his age should not be having hot dogs as they are a choking hazard; remember, the kid has no teeth. And the only bite he got of anything was the bread as his gums softened it into complete and utter mush. But that didn’t stop him from trying to get THE ENTIRE thing into his mouth.
Posted by Lily on Aug 6, 2009 in
Uncategorized Perhaps one of my most favorite things about Cameron are his gums. His perfect, pink, toothless gums. I don’t know why I love them so much, but whenever I get the gummy smile, my heart melts, birds sing, and the world is right.
You can therefore imagine my anxiety over the inevitable development of those horrid white things that will ruin his mouth forever. I know I am incredibly lucky with my love of his irresistible gums, that he, at almost ten months, does not have any teeth yet. None. Not even an inkling.
At his 9 month appt. the pediatrician said his gums at least felt swollen this time and she thought that there would be a tooth within the next two weeks. However, she cautioned, they can swell up then go back down again.
Toothwatch ‘09 began. Every cry, every fuss, every fidget “must be because of his tooth.” He became cranky, irritable, snotty. Oh, how snotty. Then it happened. I looked over and he was eating a roll of toilet paper, which had just a faint tinge of blood on it. A tooth! I wrestled him to the ground, pinned him down and pried his mouth open. A white spot! A white spot! A Tooth! He then shoved me over and went on his way.
A Tooth! I called John. A Tooth! I called my sister. A Tooth! I called my mom, who happened to be coming out for a visit the next day. She arrived, we all looked, yup there’s that white spot. Day or so later, we couldn’t quite find it. Apparently acrobatic magoo had somehow bashed his gum into something, splitting it, causing a teeny tiny amount of bleeding and a white patch, which has since vanished. And the crankiness and fussiness was a cold.
So I feigned disappointment. Bummer, hasn’t reached that milestone yet. Shucks. While secretly delighting in my toothless wonder, wondering just how long one can go in life without teeth.
Posted by Lily on Jul 27, 2009 in
Uncategorized My sister-in-law recently gave birth to her daughter. This marked the beginning of the tidal wave of babies about to descend upon our world. I have three friends due imminently and more within the next few months. But this birth of our new, beautiful niece marked the first person close to me that has had a baby since Cameron was born. I had one friend who had a baby very close to Cameron’s birth, but it was in that time of haze that I hope to never truly remember.
During all of the excitement and conversations with my sister-in-law and family, I flashback and am struck with an overwhelming sense of fatigue. Utter, to the bone, exhaustion. I think about the sleepless nights, the fumbling around with breast feeding trying to figure out what on earth is on your chest. Because while they’ve been there for awhile, when that milk comes in, it is as if they’ve never been there before. And all of a sudden you are expected to be perfect at manipulating these giant water balloons attached to your chest, occasionally (or every hour if you are lucky enough to have a Cameron) being asked to open the end of the water balloon in a controlled manner to let a little out, without spraying the world. I think it is a miracle Cameron wasn’t blinded in those early days.
Exhaustion.
I empathize with her. Deeply. I empathize with every friend I have who is about to enter into the amazing world of parenthood. Because it is amazing. But somehow I am being thrown back into the sheer and utter exhaustion of those early days.
Or perhaps it is just the current exhaustion catching up with me as I watch Cameron pull the safety socket plugs out of the sockets and put them in his mouth morphing them from safety item to choking item. Demonstrating to me that we actually paid money to bring more choking hazards into our house. Truly an impressive feat.
At least one of us is getting some rest…
Posted by Lily on Jul 13, 2009 in
Uncategorized It’s milestone time. Cameron is nine months tomorrow, Tuesday, the actual day he was born, and the OCD part of my brain is jumping up and down because of the perfect alignment. This is also my 100th post. I’ve been trying to write this post for a couple of weeks now, ever since I myself hit a milestone, entering into the third decade of my life.
To mark my entry into this new decade, my wonderful family banded together and got me a laptop, something I have been coveting for awhile, but figured was an impractical expense. I couldn’t wait to get on it and come up with some magnificent shiny, glittery post to celebrate 100. On TV shows they usually have huge improbable plot lines thick with famous guest stars. And while I’m sure I could come up with the improbable plot line, I don’t really know any famous guest stars.
This all turned out to be a moot point as apparently Cameron is hardwired for laptops. The moment I silently flipped it open, there was a slap, slap, slap, slap as he came shooting across the house to descend upon the computer. I had witnesses, the flipping open was silent. Yet the computer part of Cameron’s brain kicked in like sonar and he appeared from thin air. He has subsequently done this every time I touch the computer and it has gotten to the point where I either have to secretly hide in a closet in our house to use it or wait until he goes to bed. But by the time he goes to bed, I’m racing him to sleep.
So I sit here on our main computer, the laptop safely hidden away, and write my 100th post. And as I listen to Cameron slam our blinds against the window, I decided to post a photo essay of Cameron. True, unedited Cameron. Because while I post cute pictures and cuddly stories (have I ever posted a cuddly story?) that’s not my true baby.
My true baby who on a Southwest flight actually left claw marks in the airline seat.
My true baby who lets the blinds know on a daily basis who is and will always be boss.
My true baby who knows the difference between over and around, but always chooses over.
My true baby who decided that sitting in strollers is for losers.
My true baby who can break my heart with one tear.
My true baby who will take on the sun any day.
My true baby who decided a co-conspirator is a good thing to have.
My true baby who informed the doctor that her table paper was no match for him.
My true baby who has made the last nine months the most rewarding of my life.
Posted by Lily on Jun 25, 2009 in
Uncategorized Now before anyone gets bent out of shape over word choices, let’s just remember where I live. And that in all likelihood that is actually taught as the correct term for female anatomy. Now kids, that there’s what we call the cooter. Wanna stay away from that. Everybody. Always. Even if it’s your own. Health class dismissed.
I wasn’t going to post anymore about the newly remodeled ‘08 model Vajayjay (2009 really snuck up, it is already out of date). But John and I were talking last night (truly, just talking) and we realized that there has been an ongoing saga of which I haven’t written anything about. And that it was an important continuation of the birth story and what we have learned.
Around the end of February/beginning of March, I returned to the midwives YET AGAIN, because I was still having pain. They found a place where there was still some skin not healed, whipped out their silver nitrate for some cauterization and said to come back in a week to reassess.
I returned in a week, still in pain, feeling pretty low. The midwife looked at me and said, Lily, the skin is finally all healed. And just as I was about to burst into tears because that was not what I wanted to hear BECAUSE SOMETHING WAS NOT HEALED, she said, But. Oh, glorious but. You are obviously in pain, But. Oh, horrible but. There is nothing more we can do. But. Oh, tumultuous but. There is something called pelvic rehab.
Pelvic Rehab. “Life Therapies” as the more modest Catholic hospital labels it. A place for women who have some sort of pelvic issue. The midwife said she had no idea what they would do, but she had sent a couple of her other pt.’s there and has heard great things about them. When I asked what was wrong with me, she said she had no idea, maybe scar tissue build-up, that kind of thing. They could work it out with ultrasound. She gave me the referral and off I went.
I went in tentatively, the PT called me in her room, and we sat down to talk. She asked me what was going on. And so I gave my spiel of the birth and months of follow-up and cauterizations and unrelenting pain and that I still had it and no one seemed to listen to me when I was saying that I knew it sounded stupid, but it felt like I had strained a muscle. In my Vajayjay. Like I’d run a marathon. On my Vajayjay. The PT looked at me, trying her best not to show the horror on her face as I relayed all the details and then she said o.k. Let’s talk about the Vagina.
So we did. She pulled out a model, circa sixth grade science class and I thought, really? I’m a nurse, I used to teach sex-ed, I HAD A BABY, I think I’ve got this thing worked out. But upon closer inspection, it was a model I had never seen. With bands upon bands upon bands of muscle. And the PT patiently explained all the muscles to me and then pointed out the ones based on my description, that had probably torn right along with everything else during delivery. And that the feeling of a strained muscle was right on.
She did her exam, managing as only PTs can do, to find every exact place that caused excruciating pain. Yup. You’ve got some messed up muscles in there. Basically, she said imagine if you tore your hamstring, then instead of getting it treated, you kept on running your 10 miles a day on it. Not only would it be excruciatingly painful, it wouldn’t heal properly. So all those muscles torn during delivery healed, but not correctly. And they no longer know how to contract and relax, so they are in a constant state of flux, spasming.
So began my weekly PT appts. It’s been three months now, each week a little improvement, and with each improvement the ability to uncover layer after layer of damage to really get to the core of the problem. One of the big issues was the spasming. It wouldn’t stop. So, my PT, the magical goddess that she is, said, it’s time for Valium. I said oh, Valium! I’ve taken that before. Yeah. Not that kind of Valium. You don’t take it the same way. Really? I naively asked, how many other ways are there?
And so began The Cooter Shooter. Surprisingly that’s not the official name, something we came up with one night. But it shoots specially (and expensively) compounded Valium right up into those spasming muscles. Oh, the difference. The magical, wonderful difference. Immediately. There was a lot of joking and laughing, but on a serious note, I feel the single most effective thing it did for me was validate the pain. By the absence of it.
I had begun to think maybe I didn’t remember what no pain felt like. And that maybe I wasn’t in pain, but I thought I was. Hard to describe, but a scary feeling. Waking up after the first morning of using it was the best feeling I’d had since Cameron was born. It also gave me hope that maybe I would actually be pain free someday after all.
It has been a long road with stretching, ultra sound therapy, electrode stimulation, just to name a few of the fun things done on a weekly basis. There was also some nerve damage that will probably take another 4-10 months to heal, so my original goal of being completely back to normal by the time Cameron turned one probably won’t happen. But I will someday be back to normal. Or at least as normal as someone returns to once they’ve had cherry bombs set off in their nether regions. And that’s really all I want.
Lucky he is cute.
Posted by Lily on Jun 18, 2009 in
Uncategorized Sleep has never been something Cameron has been a big fan of. Ever. He spent about the first 6 weeks waking every 1 1/2 hours to nurse, for twenty minutes or so, meaning by the time I got back to sleep it had really only been about 45 minutes. The fact that I survived that time not institutionalized, that my husband is still living, and that we kept the baby are all in themselves small miracles.
Since then, sleep has continued to somewhat allude us all. Cameron’s idea of a nap is a MAXIMUM 45 minute power nap in the morning and maybe an hour in the afternoon with occasional collapses in between those times where he literally keels over asleep wherever he is. Case in point one afternoon when his Auntie Reed was holding him and all of a sudden he went from talking and playing with her necklace to limp in her arms. In an instant. We checked to make sure he was breathing.
Nighttime has been no picnic either. And parenthood is funny because it slowly makes totally absurd things seem normal. Like two years ago if you told me I would wake up and get out of bed 3-4 times a night I would have said you’re nuts. But if you’d asked me that when Cameron was a month old I would have sat on you until you swore on your mother’s life that you were telling the truth. That at some point, I would not see the clock hit every hour of the night.
I’m tired. John’s tired. My other friends with babies look quizzically at me while describing their babies 12 hour nights with TWO two hour naps during the day. I don’t think that will ever be our world because if Cameron slept that much I would be convinced he was dying of some horrible sleeping sickness contracted from a mosquito that somehow got through my defenses and poisoned my child. Because mosquitoes=death. Even if John does try to convince me we all probably have West Nile already.
His sleeping is so bad that our pediatrician said with her full blessing we could give him drugs. This was after the three rolls of exam table paper he had torn through in the five minutes she had been in the room, the constant bouncing up and down on the table and me catching him from nosediving off the table about 8 times during the visit. I think she is fully expecting him to skydive into his next appt.
Drugs didn’t work.
So here is where the war begins. Mom vs. Dad in a parenting battle royale of how to get the kid to go and stay asleep. Mom is a bit more draconian, but has agreed not to use leather and chains, Dad is softer, but has agreed that perhaps a tear shed here and there won’t be the end of the world.
The war begins. This is our foe. Falling asleep while trying to climb out of his crib.
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