Monkey Girl

Kayla is a monkey. She is a giggly, playful, roly-poly monkey. Now that she knows how to get around she is on a mission of exploration. She is zooming from place to place, toppling everything within reach and tasting everything from her new doll to her mommy's leather purse. She is also perfecting the art of standing up. She pushes up to standing using lower shelves. She pulls to standing using higher stools. She has even been trying to stand without the aid of any props, but this usually just results in her doing a bizarre handstand that would make most yoga teachers proud. All she wants to do, now that she's figured out that she can, is use anything and everything to climb up to a standing position. She tried using her new drum (thank you, aunt K)...fail. Turns out that the little solo drum is not quite sturdy enough to be used as a crutch. Then she tried her new ball shooting elephant thing (sorry, there is just no better name for it). Fail again. Also rickety, the elephant let her down, refusing to let her climb it like a ladder. She fared better using Mommy and Daddy, pulling and pushing at legs, shoulders, stomachs, heads...whatever it took to get her to a full upright standing posture. She also fares better using the TV stand, but there is the occasional kaboom moment with that one...so hard to know when to step in and when to let her explore and experience on her own. I think we're finding a pretty fabulous balance though.



Kayla's biggest event as of late was her trip to Daddy's office party. She woke up at 730am that morning and was so excited to find not just Mommy, not just Daddy, but Mommy, Daddy AND Aunt K, ALL OF THEM RIGHT THERE AT THE SIDE OF HER CRIB, YAHOOOOO!!!!!! that she couldn't stay asleep long enough to get in a decent first nap. So, when she woke up after only 20mins, I was terrified that the party was going to be a nightmare...that she wouldn't make it through more than thirty minutes before she was tired and cranky and ready to pass out.






I stand corrected.

Not only did Kayla make it through thirty minutes, she made it through two HOURS and thirty minutes and she made it through in rock star style. She smiled and laughed at everyone and everything. She made friends on the ferry, friends in the elevator, friends in line to see Santa...she was hilarious. She just grinned and grinned and grinned. It was so much fun. Plus, the party was just all around impressive. They had free pictures with Santa, the most amazing balloon animal artists (that's right, ARTISTS), free pillow pets for every kid, a free Build-a-Bear workshop, great food, Disney movies playing in the conference rooms...it was adorable. The kids loved it, from the eight year olds down to the eight month olds.


Kayla attempting to out Santa...




Kayla and her Mama




Kayla saying "Wait! Turn me back around! I want to keep an eye on those weird furry things!"




And Kayla thinking that Daddy may have finally lost it...




Kayla is now officially in the Christmas spirit and is ready to get out to Washington to celebrate the Big Day! Until then, she'll keep practicing for Christmas by opening gifts, hanging ornaments, sitting on Santa's lap and participating in any other holiday fun she can.


Kayla's First Christmas Ornament!




Of course, the present unwrapping...well...it's a work in progress...

Continual Growth and Failing Force Fields

A wise Benjamin Franklin once said "Without continual growth and progress, such words as improvement, achievement, and success have no meaning." Fine, Ben, fine. Continual growth leads to great things, blah blah blah. I am certain that one day, as I watch Kayla approach a podium, preparing to make her acceptance speech (Nobel Prize...Presidency...), I will agree. That said...currently, continual growth is leading to this: a certain little baby crawling around the room at the speed of light and exposing our apartment for the certain death trap that it is.

Kayla is a crawler. No more army crawl, no more worm-dance across the carpet, she is up on hands and knees, boldly going where no Smush has gone before. And, unfortunately, those destinations tend to be the rickety DVD stands, the multitude of TV related chords, the piece of plastic wrap that somehow managed to slip, fall and wind up under the edge of the couch...the kid has Danger Radar and not in the Spidey Sense - danger is near, seek safety - way, but more in the Evil Knievel - "Did someone say "danger"? YAHOO!!!!" - way. How? Why? I don't know, but she somehow manages to spot the ever-so-dull looking DVR machine from across the room and she zeroes in and *ZOOM*, in the blink of an eye she is on it, trying to pull it, bite it, stick her fingers in it...what is the appeal??

And so, it appears that the time to baby proof is upon us. And let me tell you, this is no easy task. When you think of baby proofing, you think of moving breakable objects off of lower shelves, you think of putting locks on cabinets that house chemicals, you think of plugging outlets and securing bookshelves, and all of these things are good. They're great. And they aren't enough. What you probably haven't thought of is where you are going to put those two tall DVD towers that, no matter what you do, are topple dangers. You probably haven't thought about what you're going to do about the DVD and DVR players that are sitting on the exposed shelves of your TV stand and which have no other place to go. You probably haven't thought about the fact that there are chords in your living room that have to be there (hello, you need light...), but that are baby magnets, no matter how far behind that lamp you try to shove them. And you probably haven't thought about the fact that pretty soon your baby is going to be pulling up and oh God...it's a whole other world of dangers. I've been trying to baby proof, but it is so freaking hard. Thank God for the Exersaucer, which is the only way one can run to the bathroom, run to find a phone or run to answer the door, when baby is awake, without having to worry about baby trying to take her own life into her hands while you're out of sight.

For awhile, we thought we were safe. Yes, Kayla was crawling, but she seemed to be trapped on the rubber play mat we'd set out in the center of the room. She would zoom around the play mat, but when she reached the edge -ERRRRRRRRRK- she would stop, freeze and then retreat. "Perfect," we thought, "invisible force field!" And so we were safe for a time, but tonight, Kayla managed to penetrate the invisible force field, escaping onto the wooden floor and from there...to infinity and beyond! Now her crawling knows no bounds and she is into the dining area, the kitchen, and anyplace she darned well chooses, in the blink of an eye.




Alas...

And so the baby proofing takes a new turn. And really, it needs to take two turns, because now we not only have to consider new rooms, but really, Kayla is looking like she's about to figure out this whole pulling up thing too, so now we have to work on baby proofing from that angle as well. Oi vay.



All that said...I am just stupidly proud of her. Every time she crawls a little farther, a little faster, looks a little more aware, I just swell with pride. I love watching her learn. It is absolutely amazing.

Oh, Snuzzles...you are almost 8 months old and you are just more fun and more exciting every day. Thanks for making mommy and daddy's year.

Speaking of which...a few long overdue photos of Snuzzles past month:

She got to celebrate her Great Grandma's birthday...




She went on her first hike...




It was exhausting!



She had her first Thanksgiving...






Complete with dill pickle (Thanks, Grandpa)...



She got to experience Christmas a la Busch Gardens...





And met Santa!!!!!


She got to have one dinner in the bathtub...(because sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do)



And she was generally a cuddly, snuggle, bundle of yumminess...


Love you, Snuzz.

Darned Technology

Our computers are busted. Well, okay, busted is an overstatement. Our laptop's harddrive is full, so we can't download any photos onto it (or new software for that matter - sorry iTunes). Our desktop's monitor has been removed to the living room where it is currently serving as our TV since our TV's bulb blew AGAIN. Supposedly it hasn't blown in five years, but having had to replace it numerous times in just a couple year period, the hurt feels so much more present than that...Anyhow, so I am woefully unable to upload photos onto the site and that is making it hard for me to feel motivated to write. I have the CUTEST pictures waiting for upload. For Thanksgiving, Kayla had a fabulous "My First Thanksgiving" onesie, complete with turkey and a matching brown tutu. Come on, you knew there'd be a tutu. There will likely be a tutu for every holiday from now through...well...whenever she learns to say "No tutu, Mama" and according to the books, she won't be forming three word sentences for at least another year and a half - wooohooo!!!

Anyhow, I haven't abandonned the blog. Hang in there and I will be with you as soon as I can get our house's computers smacked back into shape.

So There I Was...

The following is a true story of one family's struggle to survive an average Sunday.

It was a Sunday morning like any other. The sun was shining, the windows were open, Dad was watching Football and Baby was happily napping in her little crib. Mom was in the kitchen, cutting an English Muffin and thinking, "I really ought to get out the cutting board, rather than holding this muffin in my hand, but hey...what could possibly go wrong?" That was when the unthinkable happened. Mom dragged that serrated knife not only through the English Muffin, but through her left hand and, spouting blood, she called to Dad, "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!" Dad came in, saw the wound and immediately said, "This reminds me of the time I cut my hand while slicing limes. Do you remember? ..." and launched into a story about his own past knife-related trauma, which Mom found somewhat inconsiderate. It really wasn't nice of him to steal her wounded thunder. Anyhow...Dad helped Mom wrap her hand and then, because Baby was still sleeping soundly, unaware of her Mom's impending death, strong, brave Mom walked herself out of the apartment, down the stairs and over to the hospital. Mom checked in and was told to take her bloody hand over into the waiting room, it would likely be a short multi-hour wait, per ER standard practice. And so, Mom headed for the waiting area when a horrific sound stopped her short. The sound...how to describe it...like the Jabberwocky coming out of the wood, it was a rattle and a rasp and a growl and a wheeze...it was the sound of death...it was the sound...of a roomful of people with undiagnosed, sure to be contagious, diseases. And so, Mom held back, terrified and then, after scanning the room for an escape route, finally settled on slinking over to a far corner of the room, behind a rack of vending machines to hide until her name was called. Of course, Mom's escape was quickly detected by the roomful of evil contagions who sent out one of their tiny minions, a 3 year old with what sounded like a powerful case of Whooping Cough, to come lurk by the vending machines, PRETENDING to covet the candy inside, while really just trying to propel his disease in Mom's direction. But we must move on...

Back home, Baby finally woke and Dad went to get her. On his way back into the living room, Dad was attacked by a leather chair which took his little toe, bent it backward, smacked it forward and beat it until it was purple, blue, and deformed. In attempting to get away from his attacker, Dad put Baby on the ground. In front of her was a seemingly innocuous Sippy Cup, but as we have learned, Dear Reader, on this day, normal household items were not to be trusted, and as Dad leapt around shouting and fending off the chair, Baby's sippy cup leapt up, grabbed her by the mouth and headbutted her! It shoved its hard little tip into her gum, saying "Think you can suck water from me all day every day and never get any in return, eh???" And Baby, like Mom and Dad before her, was brought to tears by her enemy.

Meanwhile, Mom had finally made it into the ER only to be told that glue would solve her hand problem, "no worries". Needless to say, said glue dissolved by that evening and Mom's hand was once again a gaping wound. Back to the ER Monday, Mom again had a 3 hour wait, cowering in the corner away from the Sickies. Once the Doctor finally came to get her, the only room that was open was a psych room. After confirming that Doctor knew Mom had not purposely cut herself and that she was not about to be strapped to the crazy table, Mom agreed to take the space. Just as Doctor was finishing taping Mom's hand (PS The tape dissolved within 12 hours and Mom's hand is now, AGAIN, open. ARGH!), chaos in the hallway and into the second psych room came a woman. She was being carried by two police officers and two hospital attendees and as they strapped her to the table, kicking and screaming, they demanded to know her name. (Mom could see all this because her door was open, her not being crazy and all. At least not in a certifiable way.)

Officer 1: M'am, What's your name?
Woman: Bastard McGee - AAAHHHHHEEEEEHHHHHAAHHHHHHHH
Officer 2: Mmhmm, what's your first name?
Woman: Bastard - RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR
Officer 1: Where you from, Ms. McGee?
Woman: .......... BASTARDVILLE! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

At this point, Doctor came back in and offered to let Mom get out of there. Thank you, Doc. Although, it was the most entertainment Mom had enjoyed during her three hour visit to the ER.

The end of the story...All family members survived. Dad's toe looks like a miniature eggplant, the cut on Mom's hand looks like some kind of horror movie monster's maw, Baby shows no signs of trauma, although she does twitch a little when the Sippy Cup comes near...The moral of the story...never take for granted the essence of things. Just when you think you have something all figured out, it might go and change its nature, turning from a helpful household implement into a vicious, bloodthirsty master of destruction.

The End

The Big 0-7.

Kayla is 7 Months Old!



Can you believe it? I certainly can't. It seems like only yesterday (well, okay, not yesterday...I mean it feels like we've had her a long time, so not really yesterday, but also, definitely not 7 MONTHS ago...) we were bringing home our tiny little Smush-Pie from the hospital. And now, here we are feeding her solids, making her giggle, watching her try to crawl...I mean, really.



At 7 Months old, one of Kayla's biggest accomplishments has to be her new mastery of the art of solid food eating and sippy cup using. She is getting better and better at maneuvering the spoon to her mouth and swallowing down the entire bite. Gone are the days when each bite took four attempts - into the mouth, drooled down the chin, spooned back up, into the mouth, drooled down the chin...I'm not going to pretend we don't still have our messy times. Yesterday, for instance, we had one sneeze mid-bite which sent food flying over Mommy's shoulder as well as underneath the nearby couch. We also, yesterday, had a realization that when Kayla gets really excited about eating, she is happy to yank that spoon toward her mouth so hard and so fast that it acts as a rather lethal slingshot, flinging food many feet farther than food has previously been flung! But, despite these messy moments, Kayla is working on her technique and is becoming pretty darned good not only at eating, but at feeding herself.

Her menu options thus far:

Rice Cereal
Winter Squash
Green Beans
Carrots
Banana
Water a la Sippy Cup

Oh, and peas. But, as I said, the first pea attempt was something of a failure, so we have to revisit that one before it really counts.










So far, most of Kayla's food has come out of a little glass jar, with the exception of the peas and banana. That said, I have just started making my own baby food and stockpiling it in the freezer for future use. So far I've made sweet peas, apples, zucchini and broccoli. (Side note: pureeing broccoli = pain in the arse. Seriously, those little trees just don't want to turn to mush. I admire their fortitude, but seriously, you are a VEGGIE and will eventually be broken down into less than mush by stomach acid, so in the battle of Broccoli vs Blender, just give up already!). On the menu in the coming weeks, I still have butternut squash, cauliflower and pears all ready to puree. Ironically, while I am purchasing, preparing and storing all these lovely foods for Kayla, I am still sorely behind on my plans to start regularly making dinner for Chris and myself. While I am peeling, chopping, steaming, pureeing and portioning out fresh meals for Kayla, I have made dinner for Chris and I only twice in the past week. Yup, twice. I'm sure there is some sort of irony in providing your child with only homemade organic foods while you yourself chow down on yet another meal from the Taco Truck, but whatever. There is simply too much to do in a day. I don't know how other women manage, but I'm finding it tough. Between taking care of a baby (which, honestly, is more than a full-time job), working full-time, trying to keep the house clean, trying to keep up some semblance of a social life...finding time to plan and cook dinner is really tough. Usually it isn't until 6pm when my stomach suddenly screams "FEED ME WOMAN, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!" that I even realize I haven't thought about cooking for myself. Somehow in the midst of changing baby, feeding baby a bottle, feeding baby solids, comforting baby, playing with baby...your own needs get pushed off into the "To Do" pile. This is why women really ought to get one week a month off. I think every mother needs one week a month to just catch up on her own life - to workout, to eat, to pay some bills, to see a movie, to get her hair done, to read a book...to just live. Not that taking care of baby isn't living; it is a special kind of living that is actually doubly full, but, it is also a sacrifice of sorts. You give up a lot of your freedom, a lot of your ability to be selfish, a lot of your "priorities". The strangest things suddenly take top priority: pureeing broccoli, singing "The Wheels on the Bus", monitoring poop consistency, stopping to feel the textures of fall leaves...and suddenly a whole lot of things that used to be priorities fall way way down the list. Suddenly, measuring out tablespoons of rice cereal becomes so much more important than that dentist's appointment that you really should have made two months ago and you realize "Holy crap...I'm a MOM." That's right. M.O.M. You have taken on a new persona that actually cares about someone else, some tiny little someone, SO MUCH MORE than it cares about. And all of a sudden, steaming broccoli and pureeing pears seems like the most natural evening activity; far more natural than going out to dinner or out for drinks. Not that you shouldn't puree with a glass of wine in hand, mind you. After all, even M.O.M.s are human.

Ahem

Okay, okay, so I am WAY behind in my posting. Mea culpa. Trying to find time to keep up on blog entries while also taking care of a 6-month old, working full-time and traveling pretty much every weekend is proving a little challenging, but excuses or no excuses, I have been remiss in keeping you all up-to-date on our most recent happenings and I will try to remedy that...now.

First of all, sleep training. I know I left you with a little bit of a cliff-hanger. The long and the short of it is that we had a horrible night, a great night, a horrible night, an okay night and then 5 straight nights of 730pm to 630am sleep. Ahhhhhhhh. Those 11 hours of solid, angel-baby sleep were AMAZING. I say were because after those 5 fabulous nights, we are now suddenly starting to get little mini-interruptions again. Last night, for instance, K woke up at 1000pm just SCREAMING. You honestly would think she must be having bad dreams or something the way she just wakes up in a near panic. I got her calmed down and back to sleep pretty quickly, but only after picking her up to get the panicky-edge to ease. Then she slept really well until about 530am this morning when she was suddenly up and ready to go. I don't know what it is that causes these weird blips...I suppose it's the fact that she's human. Lord knows adults don't sleep for the exact same 11 hour period every night, but, we also don't eat exactly every four hours, take naps exactly every three...I don't know. It's hard to know what is working and what's not. It's also hard because something is always changing with babies and the first thing to be impacted by those changes is their sleep. Kayla has a fourth tooth coming through on top; she is now eating two meals of solids a day: rice cereal, veggies and all; she has a seriously runny nose that probably stems from the teething, but might be a cold based on her mommy's stuffy head...so who knows which, if any, of these things is throwing off her sleep again. Most people say, "Oh, but she slept from 1030pm to 530am? That is seven straight hours! That is great!" But when you know that she is capable of doing a straight 11, seven is a little harder to swallow. I think the most important thing is remembering to just go with it, to remember that she is 7 months old, to remember that this too shall pass. And to remember that the weekend is coming soon and maybe Daddy can take one of the early mornings...

Anywho, so that's the story with sleep training: pretty much a success and, luckily, a quick success, with the occasional post-training malfunction. What else?

Halloween. Kayla's First Halloween. Most of you know that I love Halloween. LOVE. So, getting to introduce the holiday to Kayla this year, even if "introducing" it really just consisted of sticking some antlers on her head and letting her chew on a pumpkin, was so much fun. We were lucky enough to have our friends Suzanne and Tim come down with their little one Davin (6 weeks younger than Kayla), so it was an exciting first for everyone. Not to mention, of course, that Kayla has 20 little 5-10 month friends here in Hoboken who were also celebrating their first Halloweens. Some of them more happily than others...apparently those big furry suits...not popular with the baby crowd. Some pics from the weekend-o-Halloween-fun:







What else...

We are hard at work on solids. Kayla has been a really good sport about trying everything. I think our first foray into solids (post rice cereal) might have been a mistake. Based on the doctor's recommendation, we tried giving her peas as a first food. Enter a major gagging session followed by two days of refusing solids. So, we ditched his advice and went about our own strategy of food introduction. So far, Kayla has had winter squash (HUGE fan), green beans, and carrots. We're taking it slowly, but she is getting better and better every day. We have the occasional morning where she just doesn't feel like having solids for breakfast, but she's always willing to chow down in the evening and she is getting more and more tolerant of texture (i.e. her rice cereal is getting thicker and thicker).

Peas...

#FAIL

Squash...

Great Success!

Other than that, we are basically waiting anxiously for Smush to start crawling. She is a moving MACHINE these days! She rolls and scootches and slithers and wiggles and manages to get halfway across the room before you've so much as blinked. She's also pushing way up on her hands and knees and not just rocking, but starting to move...first one knee, then the other...her arms haven't quite started cooperating yet, but man...if crawling isn't imminent at this point...I'll be shocked. She's just recently figured out that she can push up from her belly into a seated position. She is just getting more and more clever everyday. It's unbelievable. I'm afraid to take my eyes off her for more than a second for fear that I'll miss the start of her next big thing. Crazy to think that she will be seven months old on Monday. Our baby is getting so big!

For Shame

Clearly you people did not cross your fingers because last night was TERRIBLE! After going down super easily at 730pm, Kayla woke back up at 1am and cried for roughly two hours. We soothed, we stroked, we patted, we prayed...and yet, it took a full two hours for her to finally fall back asleep. And then at 645am, she was back up and unhappy. We tried more soothing and cajoling, but she was not having any of it and so finally, at 720am, I got her up and we started our day.

This sleep training stuff is horrendous. It is miserable sitting there listening to her wail. All you want to do is just to go in and cuddle her up, but the experts swear we would be hindering rather than helping. She needs to relearn how to self-soothe now that she has quit sucking her thumb and the sooner she learns that skill, the better, both for her and for us. Breathe...

Night Two

Night Two of Sleep Training:

Last night, Kayla actually went down with very little trouble. She seemed exhausted a little earlier than expected, so instead of starting our nighttime routine at 720, like we'd planned, we caved and started more around 645. By 730, Kayla was down for the count after only one brief crying episode and one brief comforting session from us. Last night it was my turn for battle, so I went to bed at 1000pm, prepared for a long long night. Instead, the night was amazingly painless. Kayla woke up multiple times, but only for brief periods of two to five minutes and each time she actually put herself back to sleep with no coaching from me. Only once, the whole night, did I have to get up and pat her and, again, that only lasted a minute before she sort of sighed and drifted back off. Now, she was up more than usual, probably once every few hours or so, but because her waking periods were so brief, there was no crying it out, no real sleep training...all just went so smoothly.

It scares me.

Why? Why would it be so easy only one night in? It seems too good to be true.

Today, Kayla woke up super happy and was right on schedule for everything - feeding, playtime...she was even in a good enough mood to agree to down some green beans (a new taste for her!) after completely rejecting any possibility of solid foods yesterday. And then it was naptime. She was tuckered out about 20mins earlier than anticipated, so I tried to extend her by reading her a book. Turns out, it is REALLY hard to read to a child who is screaming and squirming, so...we abandonned that idea and she went down for her nap. It took going in a few times to finally get her settled, but by then it was her real naptime, so it seemed like everything was going to work out perfectly.

Then the jackhammer started. That's right - jackhammer. Naturally, the building next door, which has been under construction for months, would finally be ready to have its foundation jackhammered just two days into our sleep training. Sure, why not? And so, over an hour of on-again, off-again sleep insanity ensued. Kayla would finally pass out, the jackhammer would start, Kayla would wake screaming, I would shush her, wait, shush her, wait, she would finally fall asleep, JACKHAMMMMMMMEEEERRRRRR. And so, this process went on and on until finally I was ready to give up, get Kayla up and head for Baby Yoga which, of course, is when Kayla finally passed out for good. There is absolutely no question that babies have some kind of mandatory activity radar. When you have somewhere you absolutely have to be, that is the one time that they will either take a longer nap, actually be ready for bed on time, or will decide actually they want to finish that whole bowl of cereal from which they normally only take a few bites. Oh, or that will be when they decide to take a monsterous poop that comes up and out the back of the diaper, covering them, their clothes and, oftentimes, an unprepared mama, just as you're on your way out the door. Babies are tricksy. They knows.

So now it is 2pm and Kayla is down for her second nap of the day. Thankfully, the jackhammering appears to have stopped momentarily and I'm just hoping they decide to extend their break through naptime. It only took 5 minutes to get Kayla down for this afternoon's nap, so I think she's exhausted. Just gotta hope that she manages to get in two hours or so now so that tonight is equally pleasant.

Keep those fingers crossed. It appears it may be working!

A Pause Before the Festivities

So, my original intention was that my next blog post should be a happy-go-lucky recounting of this past weekend's Halloween festivities (which were, in fact, a blast), but before I do that, I first have to explain what's been happening since Halloween because, to be honest, it is sort of all consuming.

Starting about five nights ago, Kayla randomly started waking up in the middle of the night. The first night it was 3am, then Friday it was 2am, Saturday 4am, Sunday 1am...and she would scream. Just scream. She would wake up fussing and if you didn't go and get her right away, screaming ensued. (Poor Suzanne, Tim and Davin, who were staying with us this weekend and had to suffer through it!) And so, Chris and I finally decided last night that it was time to lay down the law. I think we were ill-prepared in some ways, because Kayla has always been such a good sleeper. Since the very beginning, she went down so easily that we never really faced a struggle or had to learn how to deal with one. Additionally, we've been so disciplined about making her sleep in her crib, putting her down while she's awake, etc., that I just never expected to have to start sleep training at almost 7 months. Of course, that's babies...always changing it up when you least expect it.

So, last night was our first official night of sleep training. After having gotten no sleep for four nights and having dealt with a fussy Kayla all day each day, I was a wreck by last night and so Chris offered to take first shift while I tried to get some sleep. It should be noted that trying to sleep through the baby screaming when you're in a two bedroom apartment...pretty much impossible. I had in earplugs and, at one point, had piled two pillows over my head, and I could STILL hear her. Alas.

Night One: Kayla woke at 3am and started to fuss. Within five minutes she was full-on screaming and so, Chris went over and started trying to comfort her. From there, they started a cycle: comfort, leave, scream, repeat, which went on for an hour and a half. Chris was going in every 10 minutes, shushing her, whispering comforting words to her, patting her...and she would start to calm down and then "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!" It was horrible. I came out around 330am and, God bless my husband, he just looked at me, smiled and said "Well, this is fun." Kayla screamed on and off until about 430am when she FINALLY passed out. She then slept until 700am. At 700am I heard her start to squawk, but I didn't go in to get her until 800am. Part of the sleep training theory is that they need to physically be in their beds for 12 hours and that means that if they wake up an hour early, you are supposed to let them talk and squawk and play until that hour is up. And so I did.

Today has been a trial. The poor nanny came today and so is taking the brunt of Kayla's less than stellar mood. We put Kayla down for her nap at 1000am, as normal. She went to sleep easily, but was up within 30 minutes. Considering her morning nap usually lasts more like two hours, this was not bueno. She has then proceeded to fuss and be unhappy pretty much non-stop. I'm really hoping she goes down for a decent nap this afternoon or who knows what we'll be dealing with tonight!

On a side note...my worries about the babysitter running off with Kayla, probably for naught now. Lord knows I wouldn't steal her right now. The screaming is a fabulous child napper deterrent. See? There is always a silver lining.

Anyhow, so tonight is my night on Sleep Training Duty. I am 100% dreading it, but keep trying to remind myself that the books promise it should kick in within a week (I'm trying to ignore all the friends who have told me how much longer it took it to work for them). Please keep your fingers crossed for all three of us! I fear we're in for a bumpy ride.

Bogs and Benches and RainBows Galore

I will start by saying that I love Kayla. I love her little self so much, truly I do.

And now that that is out of the way...

I also LOVED Ireland. LOVED. Chris and I had the most amazing time and yes, I will say it, we had a BLAST being on our own sans baby for a week. I am sorry, but it is true. Here's the thing about being parents, you have a million wonderful moments that make your heart want to explode for the very happiness of them, but you also have a lot of times where you think, "My God...life used to be so simple..." (primarily when you are halfway through a six hour car ride and your infant has HAD IT and is screaming bloody murder in the backseat while you belt out, for the millionth time, a happy-happy-HAPPY rendition of Itsy Bitsy Spider). And so, having a week where we could just drive, talk, explore and relax without having to take care of baby...kind of sweet. We missed her, of course. Calling home was tough...I could hear her little voice in the background and it was hard not to get choked up and wish she was there where I could cuddle her and kiss her little cheeks. There were also a couple times when we saw mammas and their babies out and about and my heart did a little squeeze-ache-release dance, but for the most part, Chris and I honestly had a really good time catching back up with one another. after six months of spending an awful lot of our time focused on one tiny little person and not on ourselves/eachother.


And now we're home and seeing Kayla's little face light up when we walked through the door...priceless. Smelling her and holding her and kissing her and marveling at how much she's grown in just one week...wonderful. Vacation time with your spouse - amazing. Coming home to baby - priceless.

And so, Ireland...

Things you should know about Ireland:

1. Ireland has the magical weather formula for non-stop rainbows. I saw more rainbows in that one week than I had probably seen in the past ten years of my life combined. We saw single rainbows, double rainbows, rainbows that stretched across the entire sky. Rainbows, rainbows, rainbows...and more rainbows. Magic.






2. Benches. I have fallen in love with Irish benches. This sounds ridiculous (or mildly concerning, if you're Chris and mistake my saying "benches" for me saying I love a different "B-ches" word...). Everytime we would turn a corner, round a bend, climb a hill or otherwise suddenly come upon a beautiful site though, I would say "Oh my God this is gorgeous" and there, in front of us, would appear a bench, *POOF*, just as if some Irish leprechaun had heard me and agreed, "Aye, tis a beautiful site" and magicked up a place from whence to enjoy it. Brilliant. And I'm not just talking benches at tourist sites, I'm talking benches in the middle of pastures, in the middle of bogs, in the middle of nowhere. Love.





3. Color. Ireland may be called the Emerald Isle, but it has so many colors other than green. It is covered in red ferns and golden flowers and blue lakes and deep brown mud. It is a rainbow in and of itself. You cannot believe your eyes. It is truly one of the most beautiful countries I've ever been too. And being there in the fall...bonus. The leaves were changing and standing beneath their canopies was like looking up through a stained glass ceiling. It is one big tapestry of color, brighter than seems believable and more beautiful than seems fair.












4. Pubs. Ireland has pubs, lots and lots of pubs. Even in a town with one stop sign, there are roughly 10 pubs. In a place where the people are outnumbered by the sheep, the sheep are outnumbered only by the pubs and truly, you can't go a mile without running into a Tommy O'Flaherty's, Aunty Lena's, Michael O'Collins, or Shannon Dooley's. And that's an important point too. All the pubs...named after their owners. Oh sure, there are a couple Black Swans, but overall, the vast majority have their ownership expressed in their names. And on Sunday, when the rest of Ireland shuts down to go to Mass, you know what doesn't shut down? The pubs. That's right. Apparently, the Lord may not approve of you buying shoes on Sunday, but he's alright with you downing a few pints in his name. Score one for Irish Catholics.





5. People. The people in Ireland are so genuine and so open. They come across as really being of the earth: salt of the earth, down to earth...They welcome you in, even when you're the random American walking into their definitely all locals pub. They will talk your ear off, even if you are only picking up every fifth word. In attempting to buy a necklace, I wound up spending 30 minutes locked into hilarious conversation with a local metal worker. He talked and talked and talked and laughed and laughed and laughed and I just laughed right along with him, even though I couldn't understand a THING he was saying other than maybe that he has a sister who now teaches Hawaiian massage in Sydney, Australia...maybe??

No, I don't have pictures of Irish people. Come on...that would just have been wrong. "You are so friendly...can I document that for posterity?" Please, people.

But yes, Ireland...Ireland is amazing and if you haven't been, you should really go. You should go and you should take at least a week and you should stay on the west coast and you should go from B&B to B&B and you should hike and drive and eat to your heart's content. Well, maybe not eat...the Irish are big into fried meats and cheese. Fried sausage for breakfast, potatoes and steak for lunch, fried cheese and potatoes for dinner...so maybe keep the eating to a minimum. After all, while our memories make our lives, we don't want your memory of Ireland to take your life via clogged arteries. Not a sermon, just a thought.