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She blinks and sneezes in the sunlight
Oct. 5th, 2004 03:17 pmMy daughter, a true Oregonian.
Just had to brag a bit, we've been through a rough few days. Something I ingested (I think it was coffee) gave the little dear terrible gas, resulting in what I call Screaming Fart Fits. She has some medicine that sometimes helps the Screaming Fart Fits, but not always. So, for about five days, instead of taking nice 2-3 hour naps in the afternoon, she would doze for 20-40 minutes and then awake and commence Screaming and Farting. When the storm passed she would either (a) want to eat, (b) want to sleep, or (c) try to do both at once.
This morning, for an escape from the hole I call home, I took her to Target, where she was mistaken by a kindly but stupid customer for a boy half her age. "Seven weeks? I thought he was younger. Mine all came out of the womb that size," she said, generously. Last time we went to Target, Maggie commenced farting in the toothbrush aisle, thoughtfully reminding me Don't Forget Diapers and Wipes, Ma. Today she stayed quiet the whole time, even as the bleached-blond called her "he," until we got in the car, when Maggie decided to start Fussing. A Furious Fuss was upon us, I was certain. I turned on the engine and felt the steam building in the blue carseat behind me. I looked at the clock -- 10:38 am -- and thought "ah, Performance Today." I turned on NPR, and that, folks, is when a miracle occurred. Music, beautiful music, tumbled forth from the speakers, caressed my daughter's face, and stopped her Fussing in its tracks. Tchaikovsky! Of course! Her parents are fans, why wouldn't she be, as well? In fact, the last symphony I attended, when I was 5 months pregnant with her, featured Tchaikovsky. I rushed home and placed Maggie, carseat and all, next to the stereo speaker and powered it up. She didn't fuss. She listened. She even appeared to be really considering the music -- it's subtle, nuanced themes -- but I dismissed the intense look on her face as evidence of no more than diaper-filling. At the end of the music, as the recorded audience applauded the performance, Maggie sighed and fell asleep. Who am I to disturb a sleeping baby? I left her in her carseat and enjoyed the first multi-hour stretch of time I've had to myself in nearly a week. Did I read a book? No. Did I take a nap? No. Did I surf the web? Not exactly. I used this precious time to start an Amazon Wish List for my little screamer.
I must be in love. :-)
I also took a phone call from a friend I haven't seen in a while, and made and ate lunch. A couple of hours later, it was time to feed her, so I woke her up, fed her, then took her to her changing table for a diaper change. Turns out maybe she really was contemplating that music after all. Her diaper was dry.
Now she's asleep again, and here I sit, bragging. I should go enjoy the sun. The rain is supposed to start tomorrow.
Just had to brag a bit, we've been through a rough few days. Something I ingested (I think it was coffee) gave the little dear terrible gas, resulting in what I call Screaming Fart Fits. She has some medicine that sometimes helps the Screaming Fart Fits, but not always. So, for about five days, instead of taking nice 2-3 hour naps in the afternoon, she would doze for 20-40 minutes and then awake and commence Screaming and Farting. When the storm passed she would either (a) want to eat, (b) want to sleep, or (c) try to do both at once.
This morning, for an escape from the hole I call home, I took her to Target, where she was mistaken by a kindly but stupid customer for a boy half her age. "Seven weeks? I thought he was younger. Mine all came out of the womb that size," she said, generously. Last time we went to Target, Maggie commenced farting in the toothbrush aisle, thoughtfully reminding me Don't Forget Diapers and Wipes, Ma. Today she stayed quiet the whole time, even as the bleached-blond called her "he," until we got in the car, when Maggie decided to start Fussing. A Furious Fuss was upon us, I was certain. I turned on the engine and felt the steam building in the blue carseat behind me. I looked at the clock -- 10:38 am -- and thought "ah, Performance Today." I turned on NPR, and that, folks, is when a miracle occurred. Music, beautiful music, tumbled forth from the speakers, caressed my daughter's face, and stopped her Fussing in its tracks. Tchaikovsky! Of course! Her parents are fans, why wouldn't she be, as well? In fact, the last symphony I attended, when I was 5 months pregnant with her, featured Tchaikovsky. I rushed home and placed Maggie, carseat and all, next to the stereo speaker and powered it up. She didn't fuss. She listened. She even appeared to be really considering the music -- it's subtle, nuanced themes -- but I dismissed the intense look on her face as evidence of no more than diaper-filling. At the end of the music, as the recorded audience applauded the performance, Maggie sighed and fell asleep. Who am I to disturb a sleeping baby? I left her in her carseat and enjoyed the first multi-hour stretch of time I've had to myself in nearly a week. Did I read a book? No. Did I take a nap? No. Did I surf the web? Not exactly. I used this precious time to start an Amazon Wish List for my little screamer.
I must be in love. :-)
I also took a phone call from a friend I haven't seen in a while, and made and ate lunch. A couple of hours later, it was time to feed her, so I woke her up, fed her, then took her to her changing table for a diaper change. Turns out maybe she really was contemplating that music after all. Her diaper was dry.
Now she's asleep again, and here I sit, bragging. I should go enjoy the sun. The rain is supposed to start tomorrow.
