You've seen that commercial for the new Jennifer Aniston movie? The one where she is lying on a beach chair watching a model-esque blond in a bikini exit the water and the 300-pound woman next to her turns to her and says "It's girls like that that make you and me not want to put on a swimsuit." You've seen the way Aniston then looks both amused and appalled? Well, that was exactly the same way I looked yesterday when a very similar thing happened to me.
Kayla and I were standing in line at the grocery store waiting to check out. On both sides of us were racks of tabloids talking about the newest celebrity pregnancies. The woman in front of me turned to me and said "What is with all of these models getting pregnant?" "I don't know," I replied "Guess it's something in the water." "Maybe," she said "but, you would think that models would be more worried about what was going to happen to their bodies. I mean for normal girls like you and me, who cares? I mean, we're not exactly working with perfection. But for models...yikes."
...
Thank you?
This woman was, I kid you not, about 85 years old (good thing for her, because it meant I couldn't beat her down), 4'4" and probably 200lbs. "Girls like you and me." Sheesh, lady. Project much? Do you need your eyes examined? I ain't saying I'm perfect, but you're seeing a mirror image? Give me a break.
So, fighting down the urge to let my vanity get the better of me, I simply say, "Well, maybe they decided the pluses of having a child outweigh the risks." At this point, Grandma looks down at my baby, then back up at me, then down at the baby and says "Could have fooled me."
...excuse me? Oh no you didn't. You did not mess with the baby. You did not question the worth of the adorable smiling little bundle of cuddly mush for whom I live.
Lady, you are single-handedly responsible for my faith in humanity getting shredded just a little bit further...or at least my faith in women and their ability to age gracefully. I am truly sorry that this woman either had some seriously worthless children (can't imagine where they get it from...) or that she never had kids and doesn't know the sheer joy that they can bring, but either way, could ya leave me and my giggling baby out of it? We were just standing here...minding our own business...feeling pretty darned good about the day...and now you've managed to trash both my body and her sweetness all in one fell swoop. You are clearly a Bad fairy. An old, round, bad fairy. That's right. I said it. You would too had she said it to you. Bad old fairy. Go suck on a prune.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Monday, February 7, 2011
Mmm Mmm Good
This morning I fed my daughter Crisco for breakfast. Yes, Crisco. C.R.I.S.C.O. The lard-like "all-vegetable shortening" nastiness that you use to grease cooking sheets. Mmhmm.
We sat at the table and I spread a little on a couple small chunks of toast and watched her go to town. Then I licked a little stray cream cheese off my finger and thought, "Hmm...this cream cheese has no taste. What brand is this?" I turned over the foil it was wrapped in, "Crisco. Crisco? Crisco makes cream cheese or this is actually....oh crap!"
Dear Kayla,
I am sorry that your first taste of cream cheese was actually a taste of something that is not meant to be ingested as a food item. I know you thought it was tasty enough and wolfed it down like it was chocolate buttercream frosting, but still. Some day when you know what Crisco really is, please know that I did not intentionally feed it to you, I was merely delirious from a night of little sleep (See? It's really your own fault.) and oops...
Seriously, Crisco. And I was having guilt over giving her some restaurant prepared cheese quesadilla the day before due to its potentially high salt content. Ha! At least I realized my Crisco mistake only a few bites in. Can you imagine if she'd had an entire piece of toast covered in that? Her insides would have been a veritable oil slick and, well, I guess Daddy and I would have been the ones to pay the price. "Look out! Thar she blows!" And we thought what we'd been dealing with was nasty...
welcome to the world of heavily greased baby intestines. Mmmm.
On the plus side, I guess we now know that she's not allergic to soy bean or palm oil. Which was a major concern...because we'd been giving her a lot of those two things...and of course, it's good to know that if we're ever stranded on a desert island and the only thing that washes ashore with us is Crisco, well, we might just make it.
We sat at the table and I spread a little on a couple small chunks of toast and watched her go to town. Then I licked a little stray cream cheese off my finger and thought, "Hmm...this cream cheese has no taste. What brand is this?" I turned over the foil it was wrapped in, "Crisco. Crisco? Crisco makes cream cheese or this is actually....oh crap!"
Dear Kayla,
I am sorry that your first taste of cream cheese was actually a taste of something that is not meant to be ingested as a food item. I know you thought it was tasty enough and wolfed it down like it was chocolate buttercream frosting, but still. Some day when you know what Crisco really is, please know that I did not intentionally feed it to you, I was merely delirious from a night of little sleep (See? It's really your own fault.) and oops...
Seriously, Crisco. And I was having guilt over giving her some restaurant prepared cheese quesadilla the day before due to its potentially high salt content. Ha! At least I realized my Crisco mistake only a few bites in. Can you imagine if she'd had an entire piece of toast covered in that? Her insides would have been a veritable oil slick and, well, I guess Daddy and I would have been the ones to pay the price. "Look out! Thar she blows!" And we thought what we'd been dealing with was nasty...
welcome to the world of heavily greased baby intestines. Mmmm.
On the plus side, I guess we now know that she's not allergic to soy bean or palm oil. Which was a major concern...because we'd been giving her a lot of those two things...and of course, it's good to know that if we're ever stranded on a desert island and the only thing that washes ashore with us is Crisco, well, we might just make it.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
I'll Do It Myself!
Kayla has been a busy busy monkey lately. At nine months old, she is truly queen of the castle and she has taken to asserting this fact regularly. For instance...now that Kayla is becoming a Big Girl, she is eating more and more finger foods. No longer confused by having a hunk-o-somethin' in her mouth, nor confused by how to use that pincher grasp, Kayla is conquering foods left and right. She now eats steamed carrots, slices of avocado, flakes of fish, and as many puffs and yogurt melts as she can get her hands on. Based on the fact that she is fast becoming an accomplished self-feeder, she has decided that there is clearly no reason that Mommy should still be involved in the feeding process. Mommy wield the spoon? I think not. She can do that herself, thank you very much. Oh, and Mommy, puree actually IS a finger food, mmmkay? It may not be pretty, but darned if she isn't having the time of her life.
What else...Kayla is a crawling, climbing, lunging, jumping, dangling, yanking menace. Nothing is safe. Example A:
You would think at her height, she wouldn't have access to most things. You would be wrong. Like the giraffe stretches its neck to reach the highest leaves, Kayla somehow manages to stretch herself to reach dangerous objects that appeared to be FEET above her head. Chris has taken to calling her "Snuzz Croft" because with Tomb Raider like maneuvers, she will put one foot on your shoulder, one hand on your head, will then launch herself upward to grasp a shelf and swing herself over to a nearby ledge, before finally reaching the coveted...well...in the bath it is usually the coveted bottle of baby shampoo, so maybe she doesn't quite understand "treasure" yet, but hey...the determination...steel.
She's also proving to be more and more clever. A prime example, this week Kayla invented...THE WHEEL!
We can only hope that fire isn't next.
She's also being taught some important life lessons, for instance: Being a Steelers fan is no easy task. Having watched the last couple of weeks' games, Kayla now knows the meaning of a "nail biter".
She also knows how to wield the Terrible (Toddler) Towel. (Video Proof Coming Soon!)
She might love nothing more than watching football with Mommy and Daddy. Maybe she has no clue what's going on, but the yelling and jumping and cheering is all right up her alley and she joins in with gusto.
Other than that, Kayla is just learning what it means to be 9 going on 10 months old. It means lots of smiles, lots of laughs, a few growing pains and a little separation anxiety. It means learning to stand and to cruise, it means learning to love books more and more and learning that you have a will and can exercise it. Sometimes the will becomes a little too exercised and then Daddy and I have to try to redirect the angst, either changing to a new activity or creating some kind of diversion. In the case of dinner time temper tantrums ("I sai-aid, I can do it myself!"), Mommy has discovered that if Kayla starts to whine and pitch a fit, Mommy can puff up her cheeks, and then, if Kayla doesn't stop whining, Mommy can send a big *poof* of air into Kayla's face. This may sound like baby torture, but what happens is that Kayla startles and then falls into giggling. Sometimes she'll then remember "Oh crud, I was supposed to be all angry!" and she'll recommence to whine, but at that point, it's all over, because if Mommy puffs up again, she can't help but giggle, anticipating the puff of air hitting her face, and it's all over. Mommy 1, Baby 0. Of course, there are plenty of other battles Mommy's not winning...but hey, baby steps, we are finding, are really more for adults than for kids. Babies make leaps and bounds. It's only the adults who have to proceed slowly, ever so slowly, learning all the lessons that you can't find in some book.
What else...Kayla is a crawling, climbing, lunging, jumping, dangling, yanking menace. Nothing is safe. Example A:
You would think at her height, she wouldn't have access to most things. You would be wrong. Like the giraffe stretches its neck to reach the highest leaves, Kayla somehow manages to stretch herself to reach dangerous objects that appeared to be FEET above her head. Chris has taken to calling her "Snuzz Croft" because with Tomb Raider like maneuvers, she will put one foot on your shoulder, one hand on your head, will then launch herself upward to grasp a shelf and swing herself over to a nearby ledge, before finally reaching the coveted...well...in the bath it is usually the coveted bottle of baby shampoo, so maybe she doesn't quite understand "treasure" yet, but hey...the determination...steel.
She's also proving to be more and more clever. A prime example, this week Kayla invented...THE WHEEL!
We can only hope that fire isn't next.
She's also being taught some important life lessons, for instance: Being a Steelers fan is no easy task. Having watched the last couple of weeks' games, Kayla now knows the meaning of a "nail biter".
She also knows how to wield the Terrible (Toddler) Towel. (Video Proof Coming Soon!)
She might love nothing more than watching football with Mommy and Daddy. Maybe she has no clue what's going on, but the yelling and jumping and cheering is all right up her alley and she joins in with gusto.
Other than that, Kayla is just learning what it means to be 9 going on 10 months old. It means lots of smiles, lots of laughs, a few growing pains and a little separation anxiety. It means learning to stand and to cruise, it means learning to love books more and more and learning that you have a will and can exercise it. Sometimes the will becomes a little too exercised and then Daddy and I have to try to redirect the angst, either changing to a new activity or creating some kind of diversion. In the case of dinner time temper tantrums ("I sai-aid, I can do it myself!"), Mommy has discovered that if Kayla starts to whine and pitch a fit, Mommy can puff up her cheeks, and then, if Kayla doesn't stop whining, Mommy can send a big *poof* of air into Kayla's face. This may sound like baby torture, but what happens is that Kayla startles and then falls into giggling. Sometimes she'll then remember "Oh crud, I was supposed to be all angry!" and she'll recommence to whine, but at that point, it's all over, because if Mommy puffs up again, she can't help but giggle, anticipating the puff of air hitting her face, and it's all over. Mommy 1, Baby 0. Of course, there are plenty of other battles Mommy's not winning...but hey, baby steps, we are finding, are really more for adults than for kids. Babies make leaps and bounds. It's only the adults who have to proceed slowly, ever so slowly, learning all the lessons that you can't find in some book.
Friday, January 21, 2011
V is for Victory
I think it's official...We're declaring "mama" Kayla's first word. I was initially hesitatnt, not wanting to jump the gun. She's been babbling the "ba"s and the "ga"s and the "da"s for some time now, but she indiscriminately applies them to everything from her bottle to the TV to a passing stranger to her bed. The "ma" however, well, it's focused. That's not to say that she won't occasionally just babble it too, but she definitely uses it to name me. She calls to me from her crib and on Monday, when I was getting ready to leave for DC, as I started to walk out the door, she reached up, pouted, looked me right in the eye and said (in a very heart breaking little voice), "Mama!" She now crawls over to me, tugs on my pants and with a focused expression calls, "Mama". She also tends to repeat it when she wants to be rescued from her crib in the morning, when I disappear around a corner and she's looking for me, when something scares or upsets her and when she is crawling toward me from across the room. Now, as I said, she also occasionally does the "mamamama" when she is clearly not even remotely thinking about me, but as my mom pointed out, babies only have so many sounds they can make, so it doesn't discount her using it in reference to me, just because she also occasionally babbles it at something else too. My mom is the best. At any rate, first word or not, I love that she finally has the "mamamama" down. It is so fun to hear her calling it in the morning as she sits up and stretches in bed. Slightly less fun to hear her whine it when she has woken up at 3am or when she's mad because she doesn't want to have her bib put on or her diaper changed, but hey...never look a gift horse in the mouth, right? (Side note: Weirdest Idiom...)
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