first sick

So, we've officially been sick now. All of us. What started out as Emma catching a cold and stomach flu from daycare went through the household in a most nasty way, in one end and out the other! In hindsight, after watching Emma throw up for a full week, I suspect that my bad hamburger was really just the flu too. A few nights later, the au pair came down with the same thing, and even Glen had some tense moments of tummy rumblings that thankfully subsided. Three out of my five staff have been out sick with it, and my boss has a horrible cold/flu thing that does not involve throwing up (the only one of us, apparently), but which nevertheless has laid him low for a week too. Talk about an education for Emma's immune system. Why does it still seem weird to me that we should catch something from her? I know she's just a small person, but she seems to tiny to me to be able to get me sick. Obviously, though, perfectly capable, as I work out this lingering cough...

We started daycare again today. It felt like starting all over again, and I cried again, and she wailed. Not helped by my irrational guilt over the fact that she got sick and I'm leaving her there again... The ladies all remembered us though, and they welcomed her back, and when I went to peek in the window at her at lunchtime I saw her happily sitting and rocking in a chair eating (or perhaps refusing to eat) her oatmeal. Lord please keep her safe, and help me be stronger in the mornings so I'm not upsetting her with my own silly antics.

Pink Snowsuit and moonboots

Every once in awhile I see a little girl, and it just moves me to think how Emma will be that way someday too.

The other day, I was walking to work, frowning over another sick night and impatient to get to my Starbucks hot chocolate, when I noticed a "couple" ahead of me. It was a man and a little girl, maybe 2-3 years old. She was stomping along in pink moonboots, her oversized pink snowsuit swishing as he carefully watched her climb up and over the piles of snow at each curb. She was concentrating so hard to get over each one without help, arms out, up, down, and then back to clomp clomp clomp on the sidewalks. It was just so sweet and there was so much easy love as he watched over her. I couldn't help but think of Emmy and her someday pair of little moonboots...

peace

I like the snow. Today was supposed to be a big storm, but there are only a few inches. Still, from Emma's window everything looks white and pretty in the moonlight, and I can hear the patter aginst the skylights, and it's so peaceful again. I take a deep breath, and smile, and rock her gently.

The last few days have been pretty horrible. Emma started her first week of daycare and came home Friday throwing up. Luckily Mom was here visiting, I can't even guess how many loads of laundry she did for us. Jesse got sick too, and then I ate a hamburger I really shouldn't have at lunch the day mom left, and ended up dropping her off at the airport in a hurry as I sped home to begin the forceful, shall we say, evacuation of said hamburger. What a mess, and amazing that Emma slept that night for us because there was no possible way I could have done anything to help her. Glen did his best and got her ready for bed and did his own dinner, but there's really only one person Emma wants when she's sick... Even including Glen spilling soup all over the master remote, we managed to survive, and somehow make it to this night. Emma is still sick, and it breaks my heart that mommy's magic kisses can't make her all better, but I just keep telling myself that this is how her immune system will get strong and she'll grow up to be big and healthy and her smile will be back soon. Because really everything is different when she smiles...

Anyway, happy thoughts finally, hopefully, as the house slowly creeps toward quiet for the night.

Snow falls
and peace settles gently
over us all.

I tuck the blankets
under Emma's arms and whisper softly,
softly,
good night.

Daycare begins

So, Emma started daycare yesterday. I cried, she cried, we both got hugs from the caregivers... Actually, it wasn't as bad as I feared. Glen came with us for awhile, which helped alot. He was able to play with her and show her some of the neat toys while I got better acquainted with the "misses" and gave them some details of her care. I did well until at one point I tried to move away and she grabbed me (by my hair) and started crying. Waaa! Me too! (Or do I mean her too? :)) The ladies all seem pretty nice though. Two so far stand out. Miss Liz is one who has this harsh voice. She's really nice and she's been friendly and interested in Emma, but if I couldn't see her body language along with the voice I'd swear she was just plain mean! This morning as I left she was laughing at Emma (who was crying again) and obviously trying to distract her and get her to smile, but without looking it would have seemed like she was laughing this evil laugh at my baby's tears... Very Wizard of Oz. Miss Cleo so far seems to be the one mostly caring for Emma, and I've had a few really nice talks with her. She's big and gives off this protective feeling like she's definitely watching over, and I want to call her Mama Cleo instead. They invited me to come anytime to peek in at Emma through the windows. (Later I'll get to have lunch or whatever, but while she's getting used to everything it's best just to let her do it!) Anyway, of course today the one time I go to peek at her she's crying. Sigh. It's so hard leaving her! I did see one of the misses nearby, and a few minutes later she was getting her bottle, so I have to believe that they're being good with her. Miss Cleo also came out to tell me she seems to be teething again, molars this time. Poor baby! As if it wasn't tough enough getting used to all these new people and kids and sounds. Not surprising though, I even found her sucking her thumb yesterday (which she hardly ever does). Or maybe it's been coming and it's just the unfamiliar surroundings that are making her less happy to deal with it. Still, I watched lots of other kids getting dropped off this morning who were running in before their parents. Not a single one being dragged... So, I imagine Emma will be much the same before long. She was happy enough when I got her last night. She immediately started talking, and we all laughed because it sounded for the world like she was telling me about her day! And this morning she was happy enough and playing with her little tongue stuck out just fine until she realized I was leaving. Just have to keep hoping for the best and we'll take one day at a time!

weaning

In response to a good friend asking how the weaning is going...

Good and spectacularly bad. More good though. I have to say, the hardest thing is not her so much as me. If I am "tough" and manage to get through her crying to a peaceful night, I feel guilty for her suffering. If I give in and put her back to the breast - which immediately brings peace and comfort for her, and usually wet snuffles as she calms down - then I feel like a failure. The result is that nothing about breast feeding is just plain old good anymore. There's just so much pressure to wean - both from me and from everyone else around me. And yet, there's this tiny voice inside that wonders if I am truly ready for this (might it not be easier if I were 100% committed?)

Yuck (I mean that in the nicest possible way!)

A sequel to "Emma kisses"... Emma licks! She has discovered her tongue, so now most of the time it's sticking out. Laughing, concentrating, standing, talking, anytime - out comes the tongue. Most recently - while kissing! Very cute, but yesterday I got my first experience of having my cheek thoroughly swiped. Yuck yuck tooey!

Emma sleeps

It's amazing to me how centralized our life has become on one thing - whether Emma sleeps or not. It's the first thing we talk about in the morning, the first thing anyone asks, the first thing the au pair and I discuss when I get home, and the first thing people notice about me if she hasn't... Crazy! What really gets me is that even strangers ask this question - is she sleeping through the night yet? It seems to be a loaded question, asked just as an opening for them to jump in and give you their opinion and advice (well-intentioned or not). And believe me, EVERYONE has an opinion! Have you tried this? That? My sister/friend/cousin twice removed did this and it worked perfectly and HER baby sleeps 12 hours a night... It's like strangers asking when I was pregnant - is it a boy or a girl? Why is it any of their concern? What makes them think they should know? Isn't this all a special and personal question? And why is it such a national concern anyway? I wonder if it's just we Americans that are so obsessed with our babies sleeping through the night. Is it even natural? If it were normal, why are there so many many many books about this subject? When you think about it, for that matter, how many adults sleep through the night? Maybe we should be looking more at the rest of our lives and finding ways to give ourselves a break than worrying about whether my 8-month-old still wakes up wanting mommy in the middle of the night...