Showing posts with label blog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blog. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Pediatrician baby fun




 This is our interpretation of the 1986 Jim Henson and David Bowie film "Labyrinth"



I took the baby for her first blood test today.  I had to drive to a special office called LabCorp for the blood taking.  What ever happened to doctors office's doing everything and specialists actually specializing in something SPECIAL?  Taking blood is one of the first things doctors and nurses learn to do, but they no longer actually take blood?   I know its an insurance thing, but it still makes no sense that patients have to spend time going to the doctors office, and then spend more time going to a LabCorp so they can take your blood.  Great allocation of time.  At least I didn't have to use up vacation time on it.

This is the first time I've gone to a LapCorp.  I don't go to doctors.  I recently (two years ago) went to my primary care after years of dodging it.  I hate extremely sterile places (I.E. hospitals, doctors offices, ect.) and avoid them at all costs (the birthing experience was rather difficult for me to say the least but I wasn't the one giving birth).  I also have issues with getting my blood taken.  I don't actually pass out, but get as close to losing my dignity as you possibly can while still maintaining the minimal amount of consciousness.  Essentially I'm a zombie that sweats profusely but is consciousness enough that I'm able to comprehend all the snide jokes mumbled by the nursing staff.  For this reason, when I mustered up enough courage - and had an appointment scheduled by my adamant wife - to visit my primary care and found out that I'd have to schedule ANOTHER appointment strictly for blood testing I knew that there was no way that was going to happen.  Appointment never made, no blood taken.

Today was the first time I've gone to a LapCorp.  Today I learned Baby Manya isn't as much of a baby as I am. 

That was a lie.

She's totally a baby. 

Totally.

LabCorp was a complete shit hole.  Not entirely their fault as they are moving to a new location in three days but holy crap they really didn't care about this facility at all.  It was a dump.  I felt like I was at the NJDMV circa 1992 minus the lines and minus the bugs.  You didn't sit down at the DMV, you could sit down at LabCorp. 

The nursing staff was 99% Indian (I only say 99% because there's always the chance one is from Pakistan or Bangladesh and they would get super pissed at me if I mistook their nationality) and they were excellent.  Super nice.  Super good at their job.  They also loved Manya and all crowded around helping each other and trying to make the baby comfortable.  Seriously, there were four nurses and doctors enjoying the baby.  Well, it was either that they just thought she was really cute or they all wanted to watch me sweat profusely at the sight of blood. 

I for some reason was under the impression that baby blood taking was done through the heel.  I was mistaken.  Nine month olds get blood taken from their arm just like adults but with a much smaller needle.  The needle was so small it was almost cute... almost, because its attached to a tube that makes the whole blood taking experience look like a meth lab.  A meth lab where I try not to look too disheveled and/or pass out.  But it was happening.  Here we go...

The nurses cooed and smiled. 

I hugged the baby aka prevented her from ripping out the needle and injuring herself.  And I sweat. 

Manya screamed and screamed and screamed and turned about as red as a stop sign, then turned purple, then turned red again and then sweat more than I did.  The nurses in mid-blood draw actually discussed the shade of red Baby Manni was turning.  When it was over we all felt terrible for the diaphoretic tomato in my arms. 

One of the nurses was so disheveled by it that while backing away with the blood sample she accidentally walked into the cubical wall and broke it off the wall.  Seriously.  That's how much of a shit hole this place was!  A 105 lb nurse could accidentally break through the wall WWE style.  Beast mode.

When we got home all the poor baby wanted to do was sleep.

Baby Manni resting after a hard day.


Crazy eyes!

Abuelo!


Monday, May 14, 2012

Baby is crawling!




Manya has been rocking back and forth on her knees for several weeks now.  The movement is quite hypnotic.  It has gotten to the point that I'm not sure whether I'm supposed to call around for a Minyan or if she's personally calling a Adhan. 

The bouncing is known to be a legitimate precursor to crawling but with each day that passes I hear more and more stories about babies who skip the crawling stage and go straight to walking.  Of course those babies didn't spend a lot of time on their belly.  Manya spends a great deal of time on her belly.  A vast majority of that belly time was spent spinning in circles, "planking" (which she never would pose for pictures), and rocking/praying.  With each crawling attempt Manya never quite got to the point of moving her arms forward which ultimately resulted in a face plant or a slow motion reenactment of the friendly fireman "Stop, Drop and Roll" if you included "frustrated cry" after the roll.

We attempted to work with her by giving her incentives to crawl to objects but she is very resourceful and more often than not was able to take advantage of the environment around her to bring those objects to her rather than the other way around.


Other times she worked on climbing rather than crawling.



She also attacked us when we worked her too hard.

 

 Then this happened:


We are now fully mobile. 

And increasing in speed and dexterity with every second.

Similar to Moore's Law (who's the dork now?) Manya's speed and coordination doubles every eighteen hours (rather than every eighteen months).  So now I have to keep my head on a swivel 140% of the time.  Yay. 

Fear. 

A little bit of fear. 

Did I mention that now that we're totally mobile Manya wants to do everything.  And by everything I mean walk.  It's all subconscious.  Her back leg keeps trying to push her up into standing position on its own.  She doesn't know it but its happening, but that one leg knows what it's trying to do.   I'm watching it.  Wide eyed.  It's going to figure it out.  And it's going to happen soon.

Loving every new milestone with a tiny bit of terror. 

Cojack is not excited about a fully mobile infant either.










Thursday, April 19, 2012

Baby's first Car Wash

At eight months old I gave my daughter her first nightmare.

It was entirely unintentional.

With the weather heating up to the 80s this week and the blooming trees deciding to turn our car and truck green, it was apparent a car wash was in order. As a child I LOVED the car wash especially the amazing drive thru ones where we were allowed to sit in the car while the car was being washed. I loved the multi-colored soap, the giants brushes and especially the tornado type driers that blew the gallons of water off the car in seconds. Cleaning the inside of the car with the vacuums I hated (still do) but the car wash was one of the best.

I am easily amused.

Today I treated Manya to her first car wash experience...It will be her last this summer.

We pulled into line at the hopping car wash a quarter mile from our house. I got the $15 deluxe package which includes... ? I have no idea. Some wax, tire cleaning, a bunch of noise... but I'm sure its better than the $9 "we're going to rinse your car with some backwash and recycled dirt mixed with soap". Manya was intrigued. She'd never seen so much water poured around the car. She looked out every window and back over the top of the car seat three or four times before the giants brushes began to swat at the window.

Rap, pap, pap, pap, pap!

And that was it.

Full blown hysterics.

I don't know if it was a sensory overload or that one specific noise was scary, but she was having none of it. Every childhood memory I was hoping she'd love was a complete horror show to her. The soap and wax pour on the windows in beautiful color patterns but she didn't see as her eyes were pools of tears and I knew the true terror was yet to come. Forty agonizing seconds of gale force winds rattling the windows and pumping windshields. I couldn't hear anything but she was having none of it.

The car got pushed out of the conveyor belt and I raced the quarter mile back home hoping the sunshine and cracked window would calm the inconsolable child. Thirty seconds later, back in the familiar confines of our driveway I found the most distraught hyperventilating eight month old you've ever seen. Drenched in sweat, puffy eyed, gurgling with a trail of mysterious boogers was a very unhappy baby. Of course two seconds after I let her best friend the old, fuzzy, flea-minator Cojack the pit bull up from the basement she was all smiles and giggles and doggie pats.


She's loving life again but now I know:

Manni@8months + Car Wash = Horror Show

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Baby food, baby poop, and baby monitor fun

Poops officially stink. After seven and a half months of unpleasant textures and physics defying explosions, Manya poop has taken on a whole new dimension: smell. And by smell I mean stinky. Stinky smell goes hand in hand with solid foods. As you can (maybe) see here:



Not sure if the video worked...

We've had a little issues with Manya's willingness to attempt and accept the gum and swallow method. After numerous attempts she has gotten enough down to warrant a gas mask and goggles during diaper changes. Simply put, if I change a diaper with socks on, the elastic loses its elasticity.

The other bodily function that has progressed - or should I say recessed - is farting. The decibel level of baby farts was one of the most surprising things of newborns. Like a fog horn, a loud toot signaled to the entire block that a diaper needed to be changed. I feared the power fart was a quality unique to Manya and may last her entire life (yes I understand my brain has issues and my fears are dissimilar from any normal father) but once I heard the cacophony of noises other newborns make I was put at ease.

All of these progressions are due to the beginning stages of solid/pureed foods. The numerous techniques to get her to take a bite is a whole other story.

Have you ever while trying to show you baby how good a mouthful of pureed squash and breast milk can be, accidentally shoved a spoonful of pureed squash and BREAST MILK into your own mouth?!?!?!

Yea, me neither.

Ever made that mistake three times in one day?

Subject Change: Hey lets see a picture!



Cute ya think?

Where were we? Oh right, moving on...

Like most parents we like to spy on our child while she sleeps. The reasoning behind the spying may have something to do with being raised in the Reagan Administration but most parents seem to share the extreme paranoia we get when we can't see our child at all times. If a baby is making noise we complain that they need their rest. If a baby is silent, we're afraid they can't breathe. This insane paranoia increases ten fold if a child has a cold or a slight fever. It's illogical, it makes no sense but I swear especially during the first three months Manya was alive, I checked her breathing at least five times a night. Who am I kidding? I checked her breathing three times last night.

In order to hone down our paranoia, we gratefully accepted my Aunt and Uncle's offer to give us their Summer Infant Night Monitor which they used to spy on our child's namesake. Due to the fact that this particular monitor was used to spy on multiple generations of Manyas we have dubbed said device, "The Manya-nitor".

This is the Manya-nitor in action.



If there was ever a doubt as to whether or not the baby will be spoiled, this is where the baby goes during meals at grandma and grandpa's house.

Baby on a pedestal.



Just wait until she's able to say "G'ampa, I 'ant dose toos!" or "But G'ama, peez, I 'ant dat!" We're screwed.


Chillin in the couch



Monkey time on iPad

Friday, March 23, 2012

Introducing baby food and sleep regression

Murphy's Law. I talk about the great sleeping patterns of my infant and BOOM! random shitty sleep schedule. As I searched through the internets, learning about the numerous first-hand experiences with "7 month sleep regressions", it was apparent that:

A) Sleep Regressions occur at any and all times. 4 months, 5 months, 6 months, 7 months, ect. There is no rhyme or reason.

and B) Parents have no control, we are at the whim of our babies. But this does not mean that we don't attempt with all our might to trick ourselves into thinking we have control.

Sure there's plenty of books and PhDs and studies and more bullshit but you really have two choices with a baby who doesn't want to sleep. You can either let the baby control you and thus have a spoiled child who may or may not have deep rooted issues due to the fact that they didn't fall asleep alone at the tender age of 210 days and now rely on Momma for comfort, or turn your heart to ice and let that little bundle of joy turn into a red faced, swollen, hysterical tear face crying uncontrollably in the nursery until they pass out from exhaustion while you attempt to distract yourself by watching TV at a slightly higher than normal volume (aka full) and your wife sobs outside the nursery door clutching her bleeding heart. (Now that's how you do a run on sentence ladies and gentlemen, eat it Hemingway!).



Guess which one we did?

We spoiled our baby.... kinda. To put it in perspective, Manya is a great sleeper. When she goes down in her crib, she's down for the night and will be asleep until 7-8 in the morning. Her issue began when she didn't want to be put down in her crib despite falling into a deep sleep elsewhere (variety of places). The second her bum grazed the crib sheets, the eyes would pop open with disgust and disbelief while simultaneously screaming at me for my insolent transgression. It was ludicrous and frustrating.

We attempted Dr.Weissbluth's very popular and recommended sleep training but after a while it simply felt like premeditated torture. Each night we attempted the crib several times and after several failures, brought her into our bed for co-sleeping.

I know, we're silly hippies. First cloth diapering and now co-sleeping. But honestly, she slept 'like a baby' in our bed and it was pretty great waking up next to my two girls each morning. Mind you they take up the whole bed and push me into the corner, but I'll accept their selfishness because they're cute and smell wonderful. Manya would sleep between us, soundly, but if I happened to get within striking distance I would absolutely be woken by a jarring slap to the face or a quick hair pull. Some things never change.



For the past few days we have transitioned her back into the crib and things have returned to a relative normal.

AND NOW WE'VE STARTED REAL FOOD!

Or at least blended and pureed smears of color. Continuing with our hippie theme we are making our own baby food and basing our food strategies on two books. Cooking for Baby and Mommy Made and Daddy Too!.

We began the introduction to solid foods as all parents do with fabulously (not a real word) boring rice cereal which reminded me of a cross between the food we will have to eat in the Matrix and the insides of Bishop in Alien. Manya ate it with the reverence of paste. We then introduced a new puree every three days starting with the infamous stalwarts; bananas, yellow squash, apple sauce, avocados and sweet potatoes. Many infants love eating and regularly open their mouths wide for new tastes and the wonderful nutrients that accompany these fascinating explosions of flavor. Manya finds it much more enjoyable to wear each new food across her cheeks, lock her jaw shut and occasionally blow a spoonful of puree into her respective parent's clean face and wardrobe.



I liken the introduction of each new food to an tamer version of the Fox Network hit show Fear Factor staring man's man, Joe Rogan. Manya's appalling disgust for bananas and avocados would make you think we were feeding her bug larva and stink bugs. When the first full spoonful of avocado entered Manya's mouth she transformed into Nicole Richie. Her eyes sunk into her face welling with disgust as she repeatedly gagged while aptly balancing a hefty smear of green avocado on her tongue. Nutrition is fun.



As parents it is our duty to transform into fools during feeding time. We mistakenly believe we can 'trick' our children into opening their mouths so we can quickly slip a covertly hidden spoonful of mush past the guardian lips of doom. Little do we know but babies also believe in "fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me" so now not only am I wearing the 'food of the day' but I am also singing songs and dancing around like an asshole for no apparent reason because the now learned child can transform a full belly laugh into a sealed vice in a blink of an eye. Ironically aside from prying open the baby lips, preforming the Fools Dance is my only hope. It's humiliating. Every day I transform into an episode of Dancing with the Stars but look more like a dancing monkey in North Africa (maybe Casablanca?) without the skill set to pick pockets, back flip or climb quickly.

She does eventually eat some of the food, it just takes a little longer than if she was eager to get the food anywhere near her mouth and not just all over the room. On another bright note, at least her poop still doesn't smell yet.




This is the look for all aspiring baby chefs