Friday, July 11, 2008

8 weeks old


She rolled over for the first time on the 4th of July. Talk about a true independence day! Her brother didn't roll over on his own until he was 3 months old.

She pushed herself up on her arms and legs and rocked back and forth for about 30 seconds a few days ago.

She has been able to hold her head up on her own pretty much since day 1, but she can do it for a lot longer now.

She still hates the pacifier. She'll only take it when she's too tired to protest.

She coos. She laughs out loud. She melts your heart with her smiles. When she's angry she yells, "Gee!"

She usually gives us a 6 hour nighttime stretch of sleep. Unless you expect her to. Then she's up every 3 hours.


She's impatient.

She's melodramatic.

She's one hungry little baby.

She loves to look at her big brother. She loves to be naked. She loves to toot and poop in the tub. She's frustrating at times and she's one half of a team that makes me exhausted to the point of wanting to die, but she's my baby girl and I love her with my whole heart. It's funny to think back of my worries over not having enough love to go around. Happy 8 weeks, Savannah!

Shoot me in the face

My husband and I believe in the importance of exposing our children to music. Listening to music is cathartic. Music enhances learning. Music is enjoyable. Nathanael has enjoyed music from the time he was in the womb. He would be-bop in utero every time Kelly Clarkson's Since U Been Gone was played loudly enough for him to hear it. He responded to a very powerful classical music piece when I was in a vintage music store in Manhattan. So much so that I purchased the cd, played it for him when he was a newborn, and he would immediately calm down as though he recognized and enjoyed the piece. We have music going quite often here at home. I've never really had him listen to the classic kiddie songs cd's, lest I go crazy. Instead I've exposed him to folk (Tom Chapin, Elizbeth Mitchell) and, one of my faves, Trout Fishing in America. He loves this music, and actually turns his nose up when he does hear the more traditional kid's music with the tinkly toy piano sounds.

Until this week.

My son discovered Raffi. One song in particular, actually. Aikendrum. Google the lyrics. It's a song about someone who plays upon a ladle and has a nose made of cheese. What the HELL is this song about? And why does he insist upon listening to it over and over AND OVER again?

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I had my spinal yesterday. It took the doctor 4 tries. He hit bone the first two times. He hit a nerve the third time. Fourth poke was a success. Good Lord. Color and pressure of CSF were fine (there's something creepy about seeing a vial filled with fluid from your spinal column), so now we're just waiting on test results. In the meantime, he's having me try something else for the headaches - something that is FDA-approved for the treatment of migraines....as well as bipolar disorder. Interesting. This medication also carries with it warnings of hepatic failure and pancreatitis. In other words, my headaches should subside, but there's a chance that my organs will become inflamed and, consequently, shut down. Sweet.

Wednesday, July 09, 2008

Three five moppa

No, I didn't just have a stroke and type some random phrase in the title box. My son has been saying this ALL DAY LONG, and having a mighty laugh about it every time. I'm dying to know what it means. I've run a few possibilities through my mind, and each one makes me nervous. He laughs a particularly sadistic laugh, too, which makes me question whether or not he'll grow up to be a serial killer.

I don't blog much anymore. I've developed too much of a life and have formed a huge social network of new friends, and I simply have no time to devote to blogging.

Oh come now, dear readers. You didn't fall for that one, did you? Me? With real-life friends with whom I'd actually have to interact? Please. The mere thought gives me an anxiety attack.

I just can't find the time to sit down, or conjure up the brain power to write a witty blog post worth reading. The kids wear me out and keep me busy. As soon as one falls asleep the other one wakes up, and vice versa. In the rare moments I do have to myself I'm either picking up or resting because I (still) feel like crap most days.

I have my spinal tap tomorrow. I really thought I was done with sharp pokes in the back (save for my husband in the middle of the night) and I'm really not looking forward to it. I hope the neurologist doesn't overdo it on the coffee in the morning, or have too wild a night tonight, or develop Parkinson's between now and tomorrow afternoon.

I'm also going for an electronystagmogram next week to determine if my chronic vertigo is due to an inner ear issue or if we need to assess other avenues for that as well. Not so much looking forward to this, either. I'm ready to be done with the various testing procedures and just get to the bottom of all of this. I'm tired of feeling this way. I'm tired of not being able to fully enjoy the summer and the joy that it brings my son. I feel like a walking lab rat. Someone's poorly executed science experiment.

On a higher note, Hubs taught my 20 month old son to say "How YOU doin'?" a la Joey from Friends. It's the funniest thing ever.

I've decided that the Count from Sesame Street is a pervert, perhaps even more so than those Noodle "brothers."

I watched an entire episode of Reading Rainbow yesterday. I didn't realize it was RR at first, because there was a segment on cake decorating showing when I landed on the channel, but once I did I was slightly embarrassed as I had been enjoying the program. We don't have cable so our program selection is limited, but when the show continued on to highlight the entire process of making a wax dummy of Lavar Burton for Madame Tussaud's in NYC, I had to watch. Lavar Burton has a scary amount of teeth in his mouth. Other-worldly even.

I've been embracing my inner Donna Reed lately. I'm currently obsessed with the concept of freezer jam. I feel like a loser, but secretly I love it. I'm determined to give my kids a wholesome upbringing, and if I have to go back a few decades to make sure it happens, so be it. I partially blame Wondertime Magazine. I love this magazine. I wish someone from Wondertime would contact me to do something for them, for free even. The latest issue had a few articles in it about memorable family vacations - roughing it-style camping, renting cottages in a beach town for a week - we never did this when I was growing up, and I would love to start some kind of summer tradition like these with our kids. We did other fun things, of course, so don't get me wrong - I don't feel slighted by the kind of summer experiences I did or didn't have, but the thought of taking off somewhere every summer, and having the chance to anticipate the familiarity of it all - it's very appealing to me.

I'm ending with a song suggestion for you all. Songs don't usually have an impact on me emotionally (that's a lie), but this one struck me a few weeks ago when I heard it for the first time. Five For Fighting's The Riddle (You and I). The lyrics are below, but I'd suggest finding a way to listen, too.

There was a man back in '95
Whose heart ran out of summers
But before he died, I asked him

Wait, what's the sense in life
Come over me, come over me

He said, "Son why you got to sing that tune
Catch a Dylan song or some eclipse of the moon
Let an angel swing and make you swoon
Then you will see... You will see."

Then he said, "Here's a riddle for you
Find the answer
There's a reason for the world
You and I..."

Picked up my kid from school today
Did you learn anything cause in the world today
You can't live in a castle far away
Now talk to me, come talk to me

He said, "Dad I'm big but we're smaller than small
In the scheme of things, well we're nothing at all
Still every mother's child seems to know this song
So play with me, come play with me"

And hey dad
Here's a riddle for you
Find the answer
There's a reason for the world
You and I...

I said, "Son for all I've told you
When you get right down to the
Reason for the world... Who am I?"

There are secrets that we still have left to find
There have been mysteries from the beginning of time
There are answers we're not wise enough to see

He said... You're looking for a place I love you free...

The batter swings and the summer flies
As I look into my angel's eyes
A song plays on while the moon is high over me
Something comes over me

I guess we're big and I guess we're small
If you think about it man you know we got it all
Cause we're all we got on this bouncing ball
And I love you free
I love you freely

Here's a riddle for you
Find the answer
There's a reason for the world
You and I...

Thursday, July 03, 2008

Nothing beats brain freeze on a hot summer day




Baby boy turned 20 months this week. The big 2-0. The countdown begins to 2 years old now, I guess. Kind of hard to believe that this is the same little boy who, at this time last year, was this little boy:




Our latest accomplishment is counting to 11...usually leaving out #4, though. Doesn't like the 4. He speaks mostly in complete, 4-5 word sentences now, something that isn't usually seen until age 3, apparently. My boy's a genius. Look out, Mensa - here comes Natty! Still the doting big brother, he loves to shower his baby sister with kisses, and asks for her as soon as he wakes up. He can't get enough of the outside, and loves playing in his pool and sand and water table. Loves the dirt and mud - he likes bringing mama gifts of mud and worms - and thinks it's hilarious to splash people with water. He has such a big heart and he makes me proud every day. We have to be very careful with what we say around him, as he seems to pick up the most inappropriate things we say. His extensive vocab is made up of some not-so-nice things. It can't be me that he gets these things from, no no no. The terrible twos are definitely here and I'm very ready for them to go away, but he's still a ton of fun to spend my day with.

Baby girl is doing well. Smiles and laughs and coos. Doesn't like to sleep much during the day, but is giving us nice 6-hour stretches at night so I can't complain.

I have the pleasure of getting a lumbar puncture done next week to either diagnose or rule out MS. I can hardly wait.