Home Birth Witnesses

Having the girls witness their brother’s birth has had a lot of interesting side effects.  Many are amusing.  Here are a few things that come to mind.

Their stance on having children -

Paloma says she wants at least 4 children.  She’s a little put out that we don’t plan to have more.  She loves babies.

Luna says she’ll adopt her kids “so I don’t have to go through, you know, all that pain.”

I find these views interesting.  Ironically, it’s Paloma who has always seemed the most fearful of pain.  So if their impression of birthing was that it was painful, my guess would be that Paloma would be the most wary of giving birth.  But really, I can’t ever recall describing birthing as painful to anyone.  I’d describe it as uncomfortable, at times, hard work yes, some burning toward the end, but not really painful or full of pain.  I think that Luna made up her own mind about this aspect of birthing based on what she saw and, I suppose, heard.

Which brings me to another interesting tidbit.  Luna’s description of me in labor, whenever anyone asks her what she thought of witnessing her brother come into the world is that I “sounded like a donkey.”  Very flattering, indeed.  And not usually the answer people are looking for, either.  But that’s her favorite line.  Other witnesses will tell you that I was actually pretty quiet for most of the labor, but she was there right at the end when I was pushing and making unflattering guttural, I suppose donkey-like, sounds.  Ahh, you have to love the honesty of kids.

Luna has also stated as fact that her brother came out of my butt.  Yes, we’ve discussed female anatomy, watched multiple birthing videos, etc.  But she cannot deny what she saw with her own two eyes.  I am certain that when I was standing by the dresser, legs apart, pushing the baby out, it looked exactly like he was coming out of my butt.  So there you have it.  An eyewitness account.

Paloma is more private about her impressions about the actual birth.  She tells me that she never knew that caring for a baby would be so much work.  Yet she swears she will have lots and lots of babies.  And she plans to marry someone with a good job so that she can stay home with them and homeschool them, too.  She reminds me of myself in how far into the future she looks at her own life.

So there you have it.  I always wanted to have my kids present at the birth of their siblings and it was not possible with Luna’s birth (Paloma was 2 years old and zonked out at 4am when Luna was born and apparently I wasn’t noisy enough to wake her up).  So I am thrilled that I had this opportunity during Tiago’s birth to share with my daughters the experience of natural birth.  It will be interesting to see how their impressions about it affect their own experiences with childbirth when they are adults- if that is part of their experience in life.  For now, I am completely satisfied and very amused with their response to seeing little Tiago come into the world.  And now that he’s turned one year old, it is nice to have these memories to share together of his Birth Day.

Life at the Speed of Baby

While Paloma was at a 2-hour rehearsal, John and I decided to kill some time at the nearby mall with the other two – Luna and baby Tiago (who is entering toddlerhood, literally a toddling 1-year-old).  We decided to search for a baby gift for a friend while we were there.  Since I’m usually on my own with the three kiddos – doing errands or just going on outings – I’m used to the speed at which we do things.  Which is, at the speed of Baby.  Which means, we often do things a bit more leisurely.  We smell the roses.  We sit down a lot.  We go back in the opposite direction from which we were originally heading.  That kind of thing.  We stop and look at plants – both live and fake.  We watch people do stuff when it looks interesting.

I like to make sure that we have the space for this kind of slow gait in our schedule because Tiago, as the third child in the lineup of our family, sometimes gets toted around in the carrier like he’s my favorite accessory when we’re moving at the speed of The Girls, whose schedules can be quite busy!  So I purposely keep my expectations for how much we’re going to “do” to a bare minimum so that we can allow for these leisurely explorations and move at the speed of Baby sometimes, too.

So while we were at the mall with John, looking for a gift, we stopped for awhile so that Luna and Tiago could watch some people play a game of Giant Checkers, then play with the pieces themselves for awhile.  The first few times we stopped, John asked me, “What are we doing? Don’t we need to find a gift?”  And I replied with a smile, “We have time, and we’re going at the Speed of Baby right now.”  And he liked that and settled into that pace quite happily.  When they tired of the checkers pieces, we stopped in the Sanrio store to Ooooh and Aaaaah at the marvelousness of being in Hello Kitty land.  Then we headed in the other direction to find some coffee and sit down to breastfeed, but before we made it to the coffee shop my milk let down, so we sat on a nearby bench and I nursed Tiago.  Meanwhile, John and Luna admired the photos on display at the Glamour Photo studio.  Then we saw the BabyGap store and found a gift for our friend’s baby.  Then we continued over to the coffee shop where we stayed about 10 minutes longer after we finished our snack just so Tiago could continue exploring the concept of how straws go into the lid of a disposable cup.  And Luna made friends with an 88-year-old woman having lunch with her friend.  At that point, it was time to go pick up Paloma, so we meandered our way back to the car with Tiago in the sling.

I’m not really a big fan of shopping malls.  I’m not a big fan of shopping.  And going to the mall isn’t how I typically choose to spend time with my family.  But I must say that doing the mall at the Speed of Baby was actually a lot of fun and I really enjoyed the time we spent together as a family.  Although I get to experience a slower pace all the time on my own, I don’t always get to share the experience with John.  Sharing the awesomeness of doing things slowly and savoring the moments with him made all the difference.

Mr. Carrot Head

Luna has always loved stuffed animals.  Just LOVES them, as if they were real.  When she was a toddler, she would run from one room to another with an armload of stuffed animals. She used to set them up in a little princess tent until they covered the floor, then run in arms wide apart, enormous grin, eyes closed, headlong into a stuffed animal version of a leaf pile. Even as a baby, she would look into their eyes, smile, and babble amicably to any stuffed animal that was nearby.

So the Carrot Head thing shouldn’t have surprised me, but it still kinda did. Or, more accurately, baffled me and still does.

One Christmas, the girls received this giant stuffed carrot with a face on it as a gift from one of their dear uncles (who shall remain nameless and blameless).  When I say Giant, I mean about three feet long. So yes, Giant. When I saw it, not being a great fan of stuffed animals to begin with, I was a little horrified. I could only imagine that the uncle in question was decluttering his house and thought, heck it’s a stuffed animal, they’ll love it! To my dismay, they did. I secretly hoped I could sneak it into the Goodwill pile in a few months after the initial infatuation died out.

You can laugh if you want, but I promise you I won’t, when I tell you that I never found that opportunity. If anything, the Giant Garish Carrot who was eventually dubbed affectionately (not by me) Mr. Carrot Head, grew in their esteem and affection. And every time we went through toys to weed out, Mr. Carrot Head made the cut. Much to my growing disappointment.

Because, honestly, I can’t see the appeal. It doesn’t have a cute face. The colors are garish. The only positive thing I could find about it is that late at night when I find myself thinking about random things, I take heart in the thought that someone conceived of the idea of this ugly stuffed animal and actually managed to pull it off – I mean get it to production. To what end, I can’t imagine. But it heartens me to think that if someone could think of something that stupid and ugly and actually manage to get it produced, manufactured, and sold, then there is hope for all the creative people I know who actually have really good ideas.  (By the way, after writing this post, John looked up the company and found this.)

Other than that, the thing is a thorn in my side. Over time, Mr. Carrot Head has not only made the cut over and over again of Toys We Should Keep vs. Goodwill Pile, but has actually been promoted to the Ever Exclusive Bedtime Buddy status. Yes, you can imagine my chagrin the day when I asked Luna to limit her Bedtime Buddies to only three and guess who made Top Three? Yep. Mr. Carrot Head.

I’ve spent many nights awake, while nursing or changing a diaper, when my eyes happened to glance at my sleeping Luna, arm affectionately cradling Mr. Carrot Head who is officially the ugliest stuffed animal I have ever seen, and I can’t help but wonder what she sees in him. My thoughts, naturally, immediately recognize the metaphor here for what the future may hold for me in Luna’s choice of companions. I like to think of myself as liberal and accepting of all kinds of people. I suppose the fact that I have successfully kept my utter disgust of the thing a secret from my children says something. My level of tolerance, maybe. But it worries me about what it means for my daughter’s dating future. Will I truly be able to accept and love every person my children bring into our lives? I like to think so.

But one look at Mr. Carrot Head gives me reason to pause and doubt myself a bit.

It’s possible I’m putting a wee bit too much meaning into all this. But, you have to understand, in the last ten months since Tiago’s birth, I have spent many, many hours as the only person awake in my house late at night and the wee hours of morning and you all probably know what it’s like to be alone with your thoughts at that time of night. It does funny things to you.  And by the way, my approval of stuffed toys is not limited to, like, vintage teddy bears or something.  These, by the way, I find completely adorable and brilliantly conceived.

So, of course, I will post a photo of Mr. Carrot Head for you to Ooh and Aah and tell me how cute it is and how ridiculous I am, and what is wrong with me for not seeing the appeal.  But a Real Friend would just agree with me.

Ellie, Mr. Carrot, and Beanie make the Top 3 Most Favorite Bedtime Buddies List

Ice Skating at Horton Plaza?

 

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

When you live in a warm climate year round like we do, anything resembling winter or cold weather will get you excited. So when we received an invitation to go ice skating for a friend’s birthday celebration, we were super duper excited.  We dug wildly in the closets for appropriate clothing. Where are those mittens?  Grab those wool hats! Do we have any scarves? Mind you, we are sorely lacking in REAL snow attire, but we treasure the opportunity to use the few winter accessories we have.

I assumed, at first, that we were going to the nearby Ice Arena at the Kroc Center.  The girls took iceskating classes there last year for a few sessions and loved it. The price for classes was very reasonable, plus it included free admission to public skating for each student. We took advantage of that often to give them practice between classes.

But when I looked at the invitation again, it said we were ice skating at Horton Plaza.  Horton Plaza? Yes, indeed. They have a seasonal outdoor ice skating rink. On the day we went, it was sunny and warm, so we didn’t actually need the extra jackets, mittens, and hats we brought (but we will continue to look for opportunities to wear our winter stuff thank you very much). The ice was melting, but this did not deter us one bit. The girls quickly donned the rental skates (nice quality, I thought) and tottered toward the entrance. Although they spent most of their time near the edge for the safety of the rails, they each had several rounds with either John or me and even by themselves!  Even Tiago took a few trips around with his daddy!

With the warm sun glinting on the ice, foot-tapping dance music, the simple music of kids laughing and yelling excitedly, we had a fantastic time. It will definitely be one of the most memorable birthday parties we’ve attended. What a fun way to start the New Year!

After three hours of skating, we were all tired and hungry, so we stepped into Panera’s right next door for hot soup, sandwiches, and hot cocoa before we headed home (much to Paloma’s protests who, apparently, could have continued skating the rest of the day).

But if you want to go, you need to hurry because they are only open until January 8th! I noticed on their website that there were some events in December that looked like fun, so we will definitely look for this earlier in the season next winter!

The birds, bees…and butterflies

Me: Oh, look, Luna, over there!  Two butterflies dancing!

Luna:  Oh cool! But they’re not dancing, mom, they’re mating.

A Working Relationship

Tiago, like most babies, is excellent at communicating his needs.  He doesn’t necessarily cry, but he grunts, squawks, bleats, or makes any number of sounds to get our attention.  I’ve gotten pretty good at interpreting his sounds, too, if I may say so myself.  For example, if I’m not nearby, he indicates hunger with a loud “AAh!” sound.  If he’s in my arms, he simply makes a dive for my chest repeatedly in a not-so-subtle attempt to reach my breasts.  When he’s tired, he makes a high-pitched whiney series of sounds that sometimes includes “nyah-nyah-nyah” but always includes closed eyes.  Again, it wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to understand that, right?  A diaper change is more subtle, but he gets the message across by slapping his thighs or the front of his diaper repeatedly and kicking his legs.  It’s basically saying “get this thing off me, it isn’t comfortable!”

His communication is so clear as to almost be condescending.  As if to say, I know you’re tired mom, so I won’t make this hard for you, okay?  I know you would prefer actual words, but I think you’ll find my signs are pretty self-explanatory (i.e. Aaah! = my mouth is open = I want to eat; Closed eyes = the desire for sleep; Using my barely-acquired gross motor skills to attempt pulling off my diaper = please change my diaper.)

At night, he has to work a little harder.  Since he sleeps right next to me, all I have to do when he wants to nurse is pull up my shirt and put my boob near his mouth.  He does the rest, I go back to sleep.  If he needs a diaper change, he has to dodge my repeated attempts to put my boob in his mouth to get the message across that he wants something OTHER than milk.  But once I get up and unsnap his diaper cover, BAM! he goes back to sleep.  This is because he completely trusts that I will follow through on the diaper job.  Even if he’s wet through to his pajamas and I have to change his clothes, even if I have to use cold, wet wipes for the job, he will sleep through the whole process.  This I find impressive.  My ability to go back to sleep after such an ordeal is completely irrelevant, of course.

Suffice it to say that, although a formal evaluation from my little employer might say, “not entirely stupid” and “could pick up the pace a bit,” I’m confident it would also include the words “consistent,” “dependable,” and “reliable” to describe my work performance.

Plogged

Don’t you just love kids’ mispronunciations? One of my favorite words that Luna says is “plogged.”  As in,

My nose is feeling plogged.  And,

Somebody plogged the toilet.

It’s her made-up word but she doesn’t know it.  I know it’s a combination of “clogged” and “plugged” and I can’t bear to correct her because I think “plogged” is just too damn cute.

Luna has always had very clear diction, so I cherish every mispronunciation she acquires. Another favorite of mine is “calla-pitter”, you know, as in The Very Hungry Callapitter.

Oh, and recently, since she’s learning to read and asking us to spell things out for her, I discovered a hidden one. She was writing out “dragon” and asked me to spell it for her and I started with “d” of course, but she gave me a funny look then said, “No, Mom, J-J-J-Jragon starts with a J.” It took some convincing, but she eventually accepted that dragon indeed begins with a D.

Tiago’s Test of Three

Little Tiago is four months old now and really focused on exploring the world around him. Recently, he has been in the habit of grabbing objects and performing tests on them to learn what he can. The three tests are: Does it rattle when I shake it? Does it make a sound when I bang it against something else? and lastly, What does it taste like?

Most of the time, we provide him with safe baby toys that have sweet rattling or jingling sounds to please him. But like most kids, he desperately covets all the other objects we keep out of his reach, like Legos, marbles, unopened mail, magazines, pens and pencils, and all the other random things he sees us pick up. To please him, we sometimes put spoons and jar lids on the high chair table. It seems to appease his need for non-baby-toy exploring.

Watching him perform his tests over and over to everything he can get his little paws on is both amusing and fascinating. He’s the most persistent little scientist!

Insomniac Bird

Since I’m awake at various hours of the night, I’ve become familiar with the various night sounds around here. Dead of night is usually 2 am, and 4 am is when birdies begin to chirp and wake each other up. Except for one crazy insomniac mockingbird who chirps outside my window at 11pm, 1am, 3am, anytime of the night basically. I don’t know if this is normal for mockingbirds or this guy just is really desperate for a mate so he’s putting in overtime or what. At any rate, sometimes I find his company comforting because it means I’m not alone in the middle of the night when everyone else in my house is sleeping. Other times, when I’m trying to go back to sleep and he’s belting out his car alarm repertoire, I pretty much want to throw a tomato at him.

Chick Tragedy

We woke up to an awful view yesterday.

The newly constructed chicken coop had been torn open and all six chicks were gone. There was scant evidence of their terrible end – three separate piles of feathers in the yard and some paw prints. Apparently, coyotes were the culprits. The kids (not to mention the adults) from both households were devastated. We had each raised three of those chicks since they were a day old! And they had only just moved into the coop outside less than 2 weeks ago! Now all that’s left of them is the photos we took and the mockingbird’s macabre imitation of their cheeping.

Bye-bye baby chicks, we loved you all!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.