Perfect pearlies

If I've said it once, I've said it a million times. Becoming a parent makes you stupid. Or, at least feel stupid. Latest case in point:

At the beginning of August I was extremely impressed with my baby for sprouting her first tooth. I even posted about it so that one day, Kate could Google herself and know exactly when her first pearly white appeared.

Just goes to show. Don't trust anything you read on the Internet.

You see, this is another example of my sheer stupidity (or extreme ignorance, pick whichever phrase tickles your fancy) and lack of knowledge about anything baby. For weeks, I gave Kate Tylenol and rubbed Orajel on her upper gums, hoping to soothe the beast and make that little tooth's passage into Katieland a pleasant and easy trip.

So time goes by and nothing new happens. I just couldn't quite figure out what was taking it so long to finish coming in. Then one day, as Kate is joyfully sticking all of my fingers one by one into her mouth, I realize that she has either figured out how to stash a prison shank in there or she has a MOTHER F-ING tooth in her mouth that is the approximate sharpness of a razor blade.

I flip Kate on her back and pry her mouth open to stare at the offending tooth. And here is the rub, here is where it just goes to show what a nit I am. I look in her mouth and think, HOLY SHIT, it looks like an actual tooth, not like that smooth little bump that I THOUGHT was a tooth that is... wait for it... wait for it... WHERE THE F IS THAT FIRST TOOTH??

Yes folks. The first "tooth" was some little white bump (that I now know is called a Bohn nodule) on her upper gums that simply went away, not actually a tooth. Her first REAL tooth came in about a month later on her LOWER gums. Poor Kate is teething, and I'm treating the WRONG FLIPPING PART OF HER MOUTH. And frankly, now that I know what an actual baby tooth looks/feels like when it is coming in, I realize how stupid it was to think that first little delicate white NOTHING was a tooth.

I do have to say, she has been a good sport about the whole thing. But sometimes, just once in awhile, I get the feeling Kate is looking at me and wondering if I know what the hell I'm doing.

No sweetie, mommy sure doesn't.

Alive and stuff

First off, yes, we are all alive. And oh so much has happened since my last post, which you would think means MORE posts and interesting stuff to talk about. Instead, I was too busy getting to know my daughter to find out how to put into words all the teeny tiny things that are changing that make it such an exciting, thrilling and slightly scary time.

You see, Kate has gone from this little adorable lump of yummy goodness to an actual PERSON. It was happening slowly and then all of a sudden... BAM. Gone is my baby, and in her place is a sweet little chunk of a girl who has likes and dislikes, knows how to manipulate her parents and I think is applying for colleges next week.

I have new posts coming, but I just wanted to send a quick shout out to the Internet. We are still here Internet. Talk soon.

A date to remember

Yesterday, August 5, I noticed that Kate's first little tooth was making an appearance. And I'm telling you (yes, all of YOU on the Internet) since I am slightly lazy and not crafty and it is highly unlikely that a baby book is ever going to get made. But this is way better than a baby book. This is the INTERNET. And when Kate gets older and asks me when she got her first tooth I can say, "I don't remember honey. Why don't you Google it."

Star power

Just a few days ago I received an email about some beautiful baby photo contest. You know, the kind you send a photo in and the judges decide if your baby has what it takes to be discovered by baby talent models (Seriously? My baby can drool and look cute, is that considered talent? Yes? Well hell, I can drool too, wanna see?)

In a weird way, I was flattered that I received that SPAM email. I wanted to write back and say, "Why yes, thank you for asking I DO have a beautiful baby. Headshot? Well, there is this one in a pelican cut out..."

Being the creep that I am, I began to day dream about what our life (I mean Kate's life) would be like if she DID win, if she WAS discovered. It would start with us jet setting across the country for various photo shoots, progressing into commercials and finally a feature film or maybe she could star in a Disney show, because I'm positive she is musically inclined in addition to cute. I would be her manager, despite knowing nothing about the industry (because that is just how it is done) and we would be deliriously happy. That is, until Kate started feeling the pressure of Hollywood, and got an eating disorder/drug addiction/miniature chihuahua and then fell into the wrong crowd.

I immediately deleted the beautiful baby email.

But that isn't the first time I've dreamed about Kate's future. Even before she was born, Ben and I would come up with scenarios for the amazing things she would do in her life. We discussed what sports she would play (tennis -- her height will be an advantage), where she would go to college (anywhere she wants since an academic scholarship is likely) and what she might be as an adult (maybe a vet or a lawyer).

We discussed all these ideas with excitement and hope. But my real hope is that Kate will have the strength and desire to be and do whatever it is that makes her happy, despite what Ben and I want for her. Too often I believe parents pin their missed opportunities, standards and unfulfilled dreams on their kids. I can see how this is easily, and accidentally done. When all you want is the best for your child, the best is probably what you yourself couldn't or didn't achieve. I hope that I allow Kate to see the world and the possibility of it through her own eyes and not mine.

And so, Kate my love, consider this my blessing to be, to do, whatever you want in life, as long as you do it with passion, with grace, with morality and with pride.

PS: Kate, you know I don't mean eating candy for dinner, so don't even consider throwing this back in my face some day little miss.

PPS: Mom and Dad, you know you have been nothing but supportive of my life choices, so I love you and thank you for being the kind of parents I hope to be. Although when I was younger I wanted to be a trash man so I could drive that big garbage truck and you didn't really nurture that, so hmmmmmm....

Responsible parenting

I know I'm a good parent. Kate is happy, loved, thriving and better dressed than I am. But there are also times I feel about as far away from adulthood as you possibly can get. This is normally when I'm giggling about some fart joke or the fact that someone used the word "moist" which for some reason feels like a dirty word. And if you can't use the word moist in a conversation without giggling, what the hell business do you have raising a child?

But then I think about how Ben and I are head over heels in love with our daughter, how we will do anything and everything to make sure she is safe, confident, happy and well taken care of, and I know that everything is going to be okay. That of course Ben and I will be good parents, that while we may not have known it before she was born, our lives were empty without her.

Besides, if you pose your four month old child in a cut out of a pelican with a tattoo and hat that says "Dirty Dicks" on it, and seriously consider using that photo as the family Christmas card, how can that NOT be good parenting?

Productivity

Some people have it all together. I admit, I am not one of them. Pre-baby there were a ton of things I would put in my "required for living" category, like a daily shower, pedicures, clean underwear, a glass of wine with dinner, and so on. Now the ONLY thing in my "required for living" category is a cup of coffee every morning.

However, on some days you get lucky and productivity reigns. Today was that day for me. Kate was in a fantastic "I don't need to be held 24/7" type of mood, so while she played on her play mat, I raced around the house in frenzy doing all the things I put off this weekend. I folded about three loads of laundry that were piled up on our washer/dryer, did two more loads of laundry, fed the dogs, took out the trash, did the dishes, started dinner in the crock pot, wrote four emails and had TWO cups of coffee. By the time Kate was ready for a snack and a cuddle, I felt exhilarated, powerful and boastful, all "hahaha, I CAN be a super mom and do it all. Lookout world, here I come!!"

Then I noticed that I wasn't wearing any pants.

Bait and switch

Last night, we tried giving Kate formula for the first time in her life. It reminded me of another experience I had several years ago with my dog Jackson.

When Ben and I were still just a hot young couple in love (not the current semi-hot late 20s couple in love with a mortgage and a baby) we often took walks in our neighborhood with my dog Jackson. He always knew that likely the walk would end in his favorite park, where we would throw the tennis ball for him until our arms got tired. Because, he never EVER tired of chasing the tennis ball.

So one Saturday morning, after my annual pumpkin carving party (I've mentioned how I totally geek out for Halloween haven't I? If not, you now know my dirty little secret) Ben and I took Jack to the park. Being the responsible early 20s version of my current self, I a) was hungover and b)couldn't find a tennis ball, so instead of actually MAKING AN EFFORT and going to buy one, Ben and I grabbed a small mini-pumpkin about the size and heft of a ball. Genius right?

As soon as we got to the park, Ben let that pumpkin fly. Jack caught up with it just as it was hitting the ground and when he pounced and closed his mouth around the foreign pumpkin instead of the familiar tennis ball, he reacted like he had been soaked with a hose and then attached to a car battery. In one fluid OH SHIT moment, all four paws left the ground as he leaped straight into the air like he had pogo sticks for legs. The look on his face was priceless. I laughed my ass off.

It was a classic case of bait and switch. And it just shocked the hell out of Jack.

Last night, Kate experienced our bait and switch tactics, and she was none to pleased. Finally at rest with the idea of supplementing with formula, we decided to try her first bottle before she went to bed. Ben bathed her, read her a book, got her all snuggly in her footy pajamas and settled down in the rocker where I normally nurse her. When I handed Ben the bottle she looked a little nonplussed that she wasn't getting the boob, but since she is a greedy little thing she lunged for the nipple and began boisterously sucking away.

You could see in her face the exact moment she got a mouthful of formula. If she had the required muscle control she would have leaped straight of Ben's lap, grabbed the bottle and possibly bitch slapped him for putting that CRAP in her MOUTH.

I guess you could say it didn't go well.

She jerked with shock when she first tasted the formula instead of the milk she expected. Her eyes widened, her mouth opened, she spit out everything she could and began crying. I had to leave the room. This continued for maybe three minutes while I sat on the sofa in the living room in the fetal position and rocked myself. When I couldn't stand it any more, I went into the nursery, scooped Kate of a miserable Ben's lap and popped her on the boob. She began to eat furiously, making grunting, snuffling noises and if she could have talked I swear it would have sounded something like, "Oh, hm, yeah, oh yeah, um, this is good, snarf, this is really good, this is what I wanted, what is that other crap, keep that other crap away from me, bullshit I say, oh, God, yum, yes, this is the ticket, hmmmmmmmm, miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiilk."

So I'm a formula failure. In my defense, Kate had a rough day with her shots and wasn't feeling great, so I decided that it wasn't the time to insist on formula. She needed both food AND comfort and I knew I could give them to her. I plan on trying again today though. Jackson ended up playing a nice long game of catch with the pumpkin once he recovered from the shock of it all, and I have high hopes for Kate too.