I'm a little late with this (what else is new). But better late than never, I suppose. I have to keep track of this stuff somehow anyway. Fiona's four-month wellbaby appointment was the week before Christmas. As with the last visit, the doctor declared that she is very healthy. And while last time she was moderately impressed with Fiona's strength, this time she was legitimately surprised at what a little bodybuilder we have on our hands.
Let's get Stats-tastic!
Weight: 16 pounds, 8.7 ounces. Another three pounds gained since her two-month appointment. Based on the constant ache in my lower back (seriously, I'm considering medical intervention), I was moderately surprised it wasn't more. Anyway, she remains in the 97th percentile.
Length: 25.5 inches, a gain of two whole inches since her two-month checkup! And now she's up into the 90th percentile. She's practically taller than me already.
With all the good news about how fat and tall and healthy the young one is, just like last time, there was some pain. Three more shots and the tasty (read: disgusting) rotavirus (right?) drink. Fiona was no worse off than last time - she screamed diligently. I, on the other hand, did a little better this time. While I felt like crying momentarily, I did manage to keep it in check.
We got the go-ahead to start solids (rice cereal or something similar) and will be watching for her to turn over from back to front (she's already mastered front to back). She'll also likely start raking toys toward her (another thing she's already somewhat doing, much to the doctor's amazement), babbling even more than she already does, and laughing more.
The idea of solids is a bit daunting to me for some reason. Firstly, I'm not positive she cares much about food other than what she's getting out of the boob. And secondly, I finally just stopped being jealous about the whole bottle thing. But, that's a decision for another day.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Balding
In the beginning, there was so much hair. Beautiful, luxurious hair with a fine chestnut sheen. And then it started falling out. Slowly at first, but then with a vengeance. All that lovely hair, disappearing.
Sadly, I am not talking about the hair on Fiona's head. While it is true that many babies lose the thick locks with which they are born (and Fiona has lost some of hers), I am referring, regrettably, to my own hair. It is falling out at an alarming rate. I expected this, of course. I was warned by a dear friend sometime in the middle of my pregnancy. Granted, I'd never heard of such a thing before actually getting pregnant (add it to the list of "Things no one ever tells you about pregnancy and childbirth before you take the plunge and go get knocked up" - a list that seems to get longer all the time), but a couple people had mentioned it may happen.
And happen it has. Whenever I shower (every other day, since I fear if I showered every day I would go completely bald) I think to myself, "Damn, I could knit another me with all the hair I'm leaving in the drain!" I could definitely not get away with any crimes these days since I leave no fewer than 482 hairs behind everywhere I go.
Sigh. I've always had rather thin hair. But when I was pregnant, I suddenly had gorgeous, shiny, lustrous hair. All the words you hear in shampoo ads actually applied to the mop on my head, and it was good. A friend who has not seen me since shortly before Halloween (and before I started losing my locks) suggested I change nothing about my lovely hair - no color, no cut. "It's so pretty like it is!" I'll be interested to see what her reaction is when she sees me tomorrow. Not only am I scraggly-haired, but the color also appears to be changing from its previous chestnutty brown to a dull ash. Clairol Nice 'n Easy, here I come! If I weren't awash in the glow of motherhood, I'd be disgusted with myself! (just kidding)
Sadly, I am not talking about the hair on Fiona's head. While it is true that many babies lose the thick locks with which they are born (and Fiona has lost some of hers), I am referring, regrettably, to my own hair. It is falling out at an alarming rate. I expected this, of course. I was warned by a dear friend sometime in the middle of my pregnancy. Granted, I'd never heard of such a thing before actually getting pregnant (add it to the list of "Things no one ever tells you about pregnancy and childbirth before you take the plunge and go get knocked up" - a list that seems to get longer all the time), but a couple people had mentioned it may happen.
And happen it has. Whenever I shower (every other day, since I fear if I showered every day I would go completely bald) I think to myself, "Damn, I could knit another me with all the hair I'm leaving in the drain!" I could definitely not get away with any crimes these days since I leave no fewer than 482 hairs behind everywhere I go.
Sigh. I've always had rather thin hair. But when I was pregnant, I suddenly had gorgeous, shiny, lustrous hair. All the words you hear in shampoo ads actually applied to the mop on my head, and it was good. A friend who has not seen me since shortly before Halloween (and before I started losing my locks) suggested I change nothing about my lovely hair - no color, no cut. "It's so pretty like it is!" I'll be interested to see what her reaction is when she sees me tomorrow. Not only am I scraggly-haired, but the color also appears to be changing from its previous chestnutty brown to a dull ash. Clairol Nice 'n Easy, here I come! If I weren't awash in the glow of motherhood, I'd be disgusted with myself! (just kidding)
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Baby's First Christmas
Christmas crept up like a stealth killer this year. We were utterly unprepared. No Christmas cards, no family picture to send out, no Advent calendar to count down the days. Thankfully, Fiona - being only four months old - won't remember our inadequacies during her first Christmas season. We will, but we're not particularly important anyway. As long as Fiona's happy, we're happy.
It was a lovely holiday in spite of our shortcomings. We spent Christmas Eve with M's extended family as is the annual tradition. Christmas morning the three of us lounged in bed together, Fiona apparently unconcerned with the significance of the day. I had a little trouble convincing her that she should wake up at all (she loves to be in the big bed with Mommy and Daddy). But convince her I did. And then I did what at least 50% of all new mothers who celebrate Christmas probably do on their baby's First Christmas: I dressed her in a ridiculous holiday outfit. Oh, but she was so cute in it that it was worth any annoyance she may feel toward me when she's older and wondering while I dressed her like a little drunken elf.
Once the kid was dressed in her holiday finery, we loaded her, Ollie, ourselves, and a boatload of wrapped presents into the family sedan and headed over to Nana and Papa's for the full celebration. More presents awaited us. It was gift-wrapped mania! And it was exactly what I would have hoped for the day. Fiona made out like a bandit. Clothes to last her until she's 2; toys to entertain her for... well, we hope at least 30 or so minutes. And books galore! As for M and me, we made out like bandits, too. We are very fortunate indeed. But our best gift, of course, is our awesome little elf baby. (Cue "awww")
One other fun thing about this Christmas was thinking about how last year at the same time, we had just learned I was pregnant, which put a whole different sheen on the holiday. We've moved beyond the "one year ago now" stage of things and are into full-time parenting in the present. What a difference a year makes!
It was a lovely holiday in spite of our shortcomings. We spent Christmas Eve with M's extended family as is the annual tradition. Christmas morning the three of us lounged in bed together, Fiona apparently unconcerned with the significance of the day. I had a little trouble convincing her that she should wake up at all (she loves to be in the big bed with Mommy and Daddy). But convince her I did. And then I did what at least 50% of all new mothers who celebrate Christmas probably do on their baby's First Christmas: I dressed her in a ridiculous holiday outfit. Oh, but she was so cute in it that it was worth any annoyance she may feel toward me when she's older and wondering while I dressed her like a little drunken elf.
Once the kid was dressed in her holiday finery, we loaded her, Ollie, ourselves, and a boatload of wrapped presents into the family sedan and headed over to Nana and Papa's for the full celebration. More presents awaited us. It was gift-wrapped mania! And it was exactly what I would have hoped for the day. Fiona made out like a bandit. Clothes to last her until she's 2; toys to entertain her for... well, we hope at least 30 or so minutes. And books galore! As for M and me, we made out like bandits, too. We are very fortunate indeed. But our best gift, of course, is our awesome little elf baby. (Cue "awww")
One other fun thing about this Christmas was thinking about how last year at the same time, we had just learned I was pregnant, which put a whole different sheen on the holiday. We've moved beyond the "one year ago now" stage of things and are into full-time parenting in the present. What a difference a year makes!
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Back to Work - The First Month
It's been a month since I returned to work. Clearly, I haven't had a lot of time to write about it. I haven't had much time for anything but work (when I'm at work) and being with my kid (when I'm not). When I was pregnant, evenings after work could be spent posting my mother-to-be musings with no distractions. Then during maternity leave, I could post whenever I found a spare moment during a rare nap or what I have come to call "Daddy Time."
Now, though, the most important thing I can do with the precious little free time I have is be with Fiona. Not to mention try to do my part to keep this household running (I am largely failing at this one. But who needs clean floors anyway?). No offense to the fine people who have been keeping up with my life by reading this blog, but Fiona's really, REALLY cute and it's hard to stay away from her.
Anyway, so I'm back to work these days. In all honesty, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. The first morning I left her was admittedly awful. I managed to hold back the tears until I was out of the driveway, but then was a disaster for the next 30 minutes with only a Dunkin' Donuts coffee to ease my pain. But once I got to work and back with the people I used to spend most of my time with, I was remarkably... fine. I missed Fiona terribly to be sure. But it was actually rather nice to be back in the adult world. At work, away from baby, I can have some semblance of free will. I can eat when I am hungry or during typical meal hours instead of when I just happen to have a spare 30 seconds to wolf down a granola bar. I can go to the bathroom when the urge strikes, and I don't even have to figure out where to set down the baby - who may or may not pitch a massive fit. And I can use my brains for things other than trying to remember what time it was when I last changed the baby's diaper, or when I last fed her, or how many hours she slept last night.
Of course, there's plenty I'm missing while I'm gone. But I'm starting to come around to the idea that it's really OK. I'm in no way alone in this. Lots and lots and LOTS of mothers have to leave their babies, and I'd be willing to bet the majority of them have a hard time with it. And I am fortunate to have a job I really like that is challenging and fun with co-workers I enjoy spending time with at a company that has been good to me for the past 3+ years. And Fiona is being very well taken care of in my absence by someone who loves her dearly, which is great for her. This separation thing could be a lot worse.
As a result, however, I'm even more of a homebody than ever. I've always been the type to really enjoy my time at home, due in great part to a very long commute that allows relatively few waking hours there during the workweek. So while I used to be somewhat possessive of my time at home - not keen on long phone conversations with friends or frequent weeknight forays out on the town - I'm even more so now, because my time at home means time with Fiona and M. Which means I'm a little (a lot) out of touch with anything outside the four walls of home. But for the time being, that's the way it has to be. Fiona's changing so fast these days I can barely keep up. More than that, though, I'd really rather be hanging out with her for the most part. She smiles and laughs and talks (baby babble, yes, but she's quite expressive!) all the time, and is super entertaining. And being that our little family is still so shiny and new at this point, it makes sense to really enjoy it now as much as I can. So while I must go to work in order to make ends meet and do my part to keep a roof over our heads and all of us fed, it could be worse. Of course, it is a bummer to not get to see this face every minute of every day.
Now, though, the most important thing I can do with the precious little free time I have is be with Fiona. Not to mention try to do my part to keep this household running (I am largely failing at this one. But who needs clean floors anyway?). No offense to the fine people who have been keeping up with my life by reading this blog, but Fiona's really, REALLY cute and it's hard to stay away from her.
Anyway, so I'm back to work these days. In all honesty, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. The first morning I left her was admittedly awful. I managed to hold back the tears until I was out of the driveway, but then was a disaster for the next 30 minutes with only a Dunkin' Donuts coffee to ease my pain. But once I got to work and back with the people I used to spend most of my time with, I was remarkably... fine. I missed Fiona terribly to be sure. But it was actually rather nice to be back in the adult world. At work, away from baby, I can have some semblance of free will. I can eat when I am hungry or during typical meal hours instead of when I just happen to have a spare 30 seconds to wolf down a granola bar. I can go to the bathroom when the urge strikes, and I don't even have to figure out where to set down the baby - who may or may not pitch a massive fit. And I can use my brains for things other than trying to remember what time it was when I last changed the baby's diaper, or when I last fed her, or how many hours she slept last night.
Of course, there's plenty I'm missing while I'm gone. But I'm starting to come around to the idea that it's really OK. I'm in no way alone in this. Lots and lots and LOTS of mothers have to leave their babies, and I'd be willing to bet the majority of them have a hard time with it. And I am fortunate to have a job I really like that is challenging and fun with co-workers I enjoy spending time with at a company that has been good to me for the past 3+ years. And Fiona is being very well taken care of in my absence by someone who loves her dearly, which is great for her. This separation thing could be a lot worse.
As a result, however, I'm even more of a homebody than ever. I've always been the type to really enjoy my time at home, due in great part to a very long commute that allows relatively few waking hours there during the workweek. So while I used to be somewhat possessive of my time at home - not keen on long phone conversations with friends or frequent weeknight forays out on the town - I'm even more so now, because my time at home means time with Fiona and M. Which means I'm a little (a lot) out of touch with anything outside the four walls of home. But for the time being, that's the way it has to be. Fiona's changing so fast these days I can barely keep up. More than that, though, I'd really rather be hanging out with her for the most part. She smiles and laughs and talks (baby babble, yes, but she's quite expressive!) all the time, and is super entertaining. And being that our little family is still so shiny and new at this point, it makes sense to really enjoy it now as much as I can. So while I must go to work in order to make ends meet and do my part to keep a roof over our heads and all of us fed, it could be worse. Of course, it is a bummer to not get to see this face every minute of every day.
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