Baby Pancakes
Baby J. keeps impressing me with what foods she loves right away. She tried pancakes tonight, and at first, I thought she wasn't into them. I gave her little pieces she could chew, and she just kept looking at them funny, and then tossing them over her shoulder. My wife said, "Give her a big piece and see what she does." Baby J. took a half pancake, and she devoured it. She gobbled it up. She tore it apart, and she ate every little piece. I guess she just doesn't like being given little pieces. She wants the whole pie.
Today was a lot better than the crummy day we had yesterday. We looked it up, and apparently, EVERYONE complains about Sears' photo studio. I guess they have this policy where if the people working there make sales of less than $150 repeatedly, they are fired. I'm starting to understand why the woman we had kept pushing everything down our throats and tried to tell us our coupons weren't valid. What a way to run a business. Has Sears ever considered that maybe, just maybe, they should consider their customers? Maybe if they weren't so pushy and conniving, I might have been willing to spend more money. Maybe if they hadn't rushed us through and given us so few pictures to choose from, I might have had more pictures I wanted to actually purchase.
It isn't rocket science.
Tip of the day: Take your own pictures and have them printed for cheap. Save yourself a lot of money and torment.
D.
Baby Monitor
This morning after waking up at 6:30am and after I prepped Baby J.'s bottle, my wife was changing her diaper. The baby monitor was still on, so I could hear their entire conversation. It went something like this:
My wife: Say, 'mama'. Say 'mama'.
Baby J. emits louding farting noise.
My wife: That's not how you say 'mama'.
We have been waiting for Baby J. to start babbling 'mama' for awhile now. She will on occasion say, 'mum' or 'ma', but it's random, and she doesn't repeat it. Meanwhile, she's been babbling 'dada' for a few months now. Whenever my wife says, "say mama" to Baby J. she gets a quizzical look in response. We keep asking, and we keep waiting.
D.
Baby Poop
Whenever Baby J. gets red in the face and stops breathing, I know it can only mean one thing. Poop. I swear sometimes when she's pooping, she looks like she's going to explode. Sometimes, she'll stand up against a piece of furniture, squat down, and push so hard she grunts. You'd think she was constipated, but she's always been that way. It doesn't matter what she's eaten, she acts like she's trying to pass a brick out of her butt.
Did anyone ever warn you about all of the different kinds of poop? The one poop I was absolutely unprepared for was the first poop, the meconium. I knew of it; I'd read about it in the baby books, but the descriptions I read in no way clearly depicted what it was actually like. When they said it would be a black tar-like poop, I thought, "Ok, a small black sludge". I mean, she hadn't even eaten yet, how much and how bad could it be? It was bad. It was the first night in the hospital, and my wife was asleep. I heard Baby J. waking, and I checked her diaper. The thing inside was awful. How it could have passed out of the bowels of a creature that was so beautiful is beyond me. This stuff was everywhere, and it was stretchy and gooey, and it didn't wipe off her butt, it just stuck to everything, and it was such a large blob of it that I thought it might have been the remains of some primordial giant black amoeba that had somehow become trapped within my baby's diaper.
Then, over the next two days, there were three more of those black, disgusting poops.
After that, they were normal, for a newborn. Runny, orange colored almost like the consistency of grey poupon poop were coming nearly every hour. I think she must have had ten or more poops a day sometimes. Who poops that much? Could you imagine if we didn't have diapers? It would be everywhere. Do other animals have this problem? Do baby monkeys or zebras just have slime coming out of their butts for the first three months of their lives?
Then, you get the occasional sicky poop, like when she has a cold or a stomach bug. Then, it's green and mucousy, and it smells. God, it smells. It smells so bad I have to cover my nose, because if I don't, I wretch. I'm not one usually bothered by smells. I had a job when I was a teenager where I had to visit the local dump frequently. I'm used to awful smells. This though, this stuff coming out of my sick daughter's butt is something else. It isn't Earthly. It smells so bad, it has to be alien.
Now, that she's older and on solids, she has firmer, brown poops, and they don't smell so pretty, especially after she's eaten cheese. Whenever she eats cheese, she has bubbly farts that fill the room with a sour odor.
Oh well, if you're reading this and you're not a parent, and you some day plan on being a parent, realize that at some point you're going to find yourself obsessing about poop. You'd think you wouldn't. You'd think, "Oh who cares? It's smelly. End of story." But no, there's a lot to talk about. I guarantee it.
D.
Baby, Don’t Cry…
How much does it break your heart, when your baby is crying? I hate it. I want to pick her up every time and make her feel better. I hate seeing her cry. It goes down in the list of all time things I can't stand. Recently, I yelled at one of the cats; the stupid cat was clawing up the furniture, and I was in mood to chase her around the house. Seeing me mad like that, Baby J. started crying. It hurt a lot. I try really hard never to get mad when she's around, but sometimes, when you're tired, you forget and you slip up.
It's bad enough when I see her cry because she's tired, grumpy, hungry, or whatever, but it's infinitely worse when I'm the cause of her tears.
D.
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