Ugly: First Pair of Shoes = Epic Fail!

When Baby E was a tiny baby, we tried putting shoes on him exactly 2 times.  The first time, at around 6 weeks old, we tried these tiny little sneakers.  Baby E curlled his little feet up into tiny balls, we thought we finally got the shoes on, and 5 minutes later, they were falling in the floor.  He hated shoes so much from the get go that I vowed not to worry about it until he started walking

The next time we tried shoes was a month of two ago as we worked our way through a couple of bags of hand-me-downs.  I saw these little shoes and knowing that winter was coming and that time was drawing near when we would NEED shoes to protect our little walker, I decided to try again.  It went almost as badly as the first time.  I gave up in a matter of minutes declaring all the shoes the wrong size.  I don't know yet whether or not I was wrong, but I plan to go back through the shoes and find out this weekend.

Yesterday my mom picked Baby E up from daycare early and brought him to meet me after work.  It was time to fight the shoe battle and with his fat feet we knew there would be no choice but to go to the Stride Rite store and get some good walking shoes.  I talked it up big and tried to get him excited about his big boy shoes, but I think he knew all along that this was not going to be something he enjoyed. 

As we drove from my office to the store across town, Baby E sat in the back seat saying "Nanananana... Dadadada" (translation... daddy says I don't need these expensive shoes and I don't want them!).  B had already asked how many people I thought had learned to walk throughout history without $40 baby shoes... I just hate it when I don't have an argument! So as Baby E sat there saying "Nanananana... Dadadadada".  I had this feeling of dread that this was not going to be pretty. 

We got to the store and the first step was to measure his little foot.  The right foot went well, but apparently Baby E has a complex about his left foot.  When the sales clerk sat his left foot on the metal foot measurer thingy (yes that is a technical term), Baby E began to get angry.  Well we did discover that he was going to need a 4 1/2 wide or possibly an extra wide.  We picked out a pair or two of the "learn to walk" level 2 shoes to try on and then the fun started.  The toes curled, the feet balled up, and eventually, we straightened his right foot out enough to get the shoe on.  Whew... 1 down 1 to go.  Then the left foot.  The best we could ever do in the store was to get the left shoe on with his toes still curlled up.  The clerk said to stand him up and let him do some walking in them and eventually he'll uncurl those toes.  WRONG!

The first pair of shoes we tried.  The soft soles are meant to mimic walking barefoot.

Baby E tried very uncomfortably to walk in those shoes crying almost the whole time.  He was walking pidgeon toed, rolling his ankle over, and doing just about everything except walking like he normally does.  I felt like a mean mom who was torturing her child.  We pulled off that pair of shoes and attempted to try on a second pair but never even got into them.  The sales clerk suggested we move to an extra wide to give him some more room since the velcro straps on the wide shoes were just barely holding on. 



Pair #2... The ones we didn't even get on. 



Hoping that he was just uncomfortable and the shoes didn't fit, I agreed.  The kicker was that to get a shoe in an extra wide size we'd have to go to the level 3 "I know how to walk" shoes.  So I picked out another pair to try on and we went through the whole foot curling, toe scrunching process again.  Again, Baby E couldn't really walk in these shoes and now he was getting tired and hungry.  Ugh! I gave up on this being a pleasant experiance. 

The extra wide shoes did look like they fit better.  The velcro would at least close all the way.  So this tired mom handed her tired hungry baby to his grandmother and paid for the expensive shoes.  We left the shoes on Baby E's feet hoping that if we wore them while he was in the carseat he'd get a little more accustomed to them.  Any exposure is good, right???  He kept them on for about half the ride home (the half that he slept through).  Then he was pulling and tugging at them and getting generally ticked off.  We surrendered and took off the shoes.  It didn't fix things but it helped a little and we eventually made it home.

The winner... Level 3, not that he can walk in these either!



This morning the torture began again.  While Baby E was eating I pulled on some thin socks (since last night his feet were sweating when we pulled the shoes off) and then started getting the shoes on.  This morning, the right shoe went right on without any problems.  The left foot was trouble again!  The first attempt ended with the shoe in the floor.  I decided we'd put it back on in the car.  With Baby E strapped in, B and I tried for what felt like 5 minutes to get the shoe back on.  After much work and some tears from Baby E, we had it back on (I think). 

Baby E sulked all the way to daycare.  He usually babbles happily and plays but today he just sat and stared at us with a look saying "I don't like either one of you right now."  Normally when we get to daycare, he doesn't want to leave my arms.  Today he reached for Miss Angela and watched me leave without a tear.  I think he was just a little angry with me.  I told Miss Anglea to try to keep the shoes on until 8:00.  That would leave them on around 1 1/2 hours and we'll just build up from there.  I don't know how its going to go.  I'm hoping that with all the other kids around he might forget that he's wearing shoes and just fall into playing.  It should be a busy day since today is their Christmas party.  With any luck, there will be lots of distraction today especially. 

I'm not going to call today to see how things are going because with the party and everything I know that the ladies are super busy.  But I'm definately interested to find out how things went this morning when we pick Baby E up this afternoon.  I do hope he didn't fuss too much for them.  I know I'm dreaming but wouldn't it be wonderful to pick him up and find him still wearing his shoes?  Naaaaa... that is just too much to hope for. 

There hasn't been much that I've done with Baby E that I'm sure I'll do different with Baby #2, but this will be one thing.  Prepare yourself Baby #2.  You will be wearing shoes frequently from the day you are born.  I won't create another battle like this one to fight.

Beautiful - Mickey Mouse Clubhouse

Lately, Baby E has discovered that the television is more than a large box that makes noise in our house.  He has begun to actually watch the TV.  He is especially fond of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on the Disney channel and I think it's wonderful. 

Now I know that saying that television is a good thing for a 10 month old to notice is highly controversial these days.  I've read the articles and books that say we shouldn't even expose children under 3 or 4 to television.  But, let's face it, most of us live in the real world.  At my house, if we're home and awake, the television is most likely on.  We might not even be watching it, but it makes some noise and I can usually check the news as I'm going by while doing laundry, cleaning, chasing Eli, etc. 

My personal belief on television is that if it becomes a problem, we'll set some reasonable limits for our children and stick to them.  For the most part, our TV stays on the news or some semi-educational programming (History Channel, Discovery, NatGeo, etc) or on the news.  So I don't necessarily mind it being on when Baby E is in the room. For the most part he ignores it and plays and does his own thing.  As long as that it the case and whatever is on is reasonably child friendly, I'm fine with him being exposed to the television.  B and I can watch more adult programming after Baby E is in bed (if we can stay awake long enough). 

Once a night though, we try to turn on Mickey Mouse Clubhouse for Baby E.  I've started recording it with the DVR so we can just start and stop it whenever we want.  Baby E LOVES it.  There is lots of shape naming, counting, some problem solving, and at the end you get to do the hot dog dance.  The hot dog dance is definately Baby E's favorite part.  He loves to sing and dance along with his favorite characters on the television.  Sometimes we even skip parts of the rest of the show just to do the hot dog dance.  While he's watching it gives us (Mom and Dad) a chance to talk with him about what he's seeing and to count and play along with the television. 

Personally, I can't find anything bad about baby E watching this 20 minutes of TV a night.  He enjoys it a great deal and it's semi-educational.  My personal belief is that television watching for children is like anything else... as long as it's done in moderation there is nothing wrong with it.  As Baby E grows if I find that he'd rather spend a nice warm day in front of the television than outside playing, we'll set some ground rules and limits then.  I like to think I'll someday approach other things (eating sweets, video games, etc.) with the same sort of balanced logic. 

What are your thoughts about television for little ones?  For, against, neutral and why? 

Beautiful Bathtime

When I started thsi blog I promised that I would share the good, the bad, and the ugly.  Many parts of motherhood are ugly (the entire pregnancy, childbirth, and recovery process for example).  And at times things can seem pretty bad (like those first few days when mom and baby never sleep more than 2 consecutive hours at a time).  But sometimes, most of the time in fact, being a mom is a really really good thing. 

Over the last couple of days, we've had lots of good in our house.  Baby E is beginning to enjoy some things that he hasn't previously, like bathtime.  Bathtime was never a screaming match and Baby E was always reasonably calm and content to sit in his tub in the sink and let me bathe him.  We rarely had a screaming fit unless he was exceptionally tired and just ready to go to bed.  But in the last couple of weeks we realized that Baby E was just too big for the sink anymore, so we moved him to the big tub.  He LOVES it!!!

Now when we get home in the evenings, it's inevitable that he'll work his way toward the bathroom saying "bath, bath, bath" over and over.  When we go into the bathroom, he pulls up on the edge of the tub and stands waiting to be undressed so that he can get into the tub.  While he waits, he bangs on the tub edge in excitement. 

We are still trying to keep baths down to every other day right now simply because Baby E's skin can get a little dry (especially during colder weather) and he hates having lotion put on him.  So to spare him the need for regular lubing up with baby lotion, we only bathe every other night.  I'm afraid that may soon change though given how much he seems to enjoy bathtime.  When he's in the tub he loves to splash the water and pour it in and out of two cups that we use for rinsing him off. 

Bathtime has quickly gone from a chore to one of our favorite parts of the day. It is wonderful to see a happy baby splashing and playing in the water then to pull him out and get those wonderful last cuddles of the evening.  Had I known how much fun he'd have in the big tub we'd have moved over way sooner. 



A happy camper playing in the tub.




Splish splash we are taking a bath!




He makes this serious face when he's really working to figure something out.  Here I think he's trying to understand why the cups are under water. 



Men are Weenies... but we love them anyway (Most Days)

Newsflash!!!!   MEN ARE WEENIES. 

This past Sunday morning, I was awakened by my darline son at 5 am.  He was coughing and crying obviously in desperate need of his mommie.  He usually doesn't wake until at least 6 am but given the fact that we've been fighting a cold for a couple of week, I wasn't exactly shocked. 

I went into Baby E's room and scooped him up.  We ate a bottle while we sat on the couch in the dark and within seconds of finishing he was back to sleep.  To help him get some much-needed extra rest, I let him sleep on my chest while I cat-napped propped on 2 pillows at one end of the couch.  That let Baby E get another 2 hours of sleep without bone rattling coughing spells and got me some much-needed extra rest too. 

I needed the extra rest because I had already been up most of the night.  Apparently, Baby E was kind and shared his cold with me, so I was up and down a million times blowing my nose, sneezing, and generally not breathing well.  So now between being pregnant and sick, I awoke to a sickly child.  When Baby E woke again around 7:30 or so, he was on go.  At least he didn't realize that he felt bad.  But that meant that this already sick and very tired mom had to chase a 10 month old all over the house. 

I was doing my best to be kind to my hubby, B.  He had spent the entire previous week on a hunting trip in Ohio and was still trying to recover from a couple of sleepless nights.  However, I'll freely admit that I was counting the minutes until he woke up and I got some help... that time never came. 

When B did finally roll out of bed for all of 5 minutes, he said that he was very sick.  He sat on the couch with his head between his knees and then promptly went back to bed.  Lovely!

After B got back into bed, he called to me and asked if I would please bring him some crystal light lemonade.  I'm sure the look on my face was incredulous.  I'm sick, I've been up all night, I'm taking care of a sick baby, and you want me to wait on you???  I know I'm dreaming.  Wake Up, Wake UP, WAKE UP!

Alas, it wasn't a dream.  B was indeed very ill (fever, nausea, the works), Baby E was sickly, and I was feeling like doing anything more than spending the day on the couch would be the equivalent of climing Mt. Everest.  But guess what??? When you're the Mommie, you don't get sick days.

(Semi-random thought:  Apparently Daddys do get sick days.  Do they have a better union than we do?  And how is it exactly that I find the person with whom I can renegotiate my mom contract?)

So after fetching B his drink, I started trying to figure out how I would survive the day.   For starters, I would need to run to a store at some point and buy some Pedia-lite for Baby E and some pregnancy-safe meds for me (not that those would actually work, but at least maybe I'll get a placebo effect).   So I headed to the bathroom to try to get ready for the day.  While I was washing my face, Baby E seemed to be playing happily in the floor.  He was perfectly happy right up until he knocked a candle into the bath tub and glass shattered all over the tub floor.  After calming Baby E down, I finished washing my face and brushing my teeth then proceeded to try to clean up the glass from the tub (at least it was all in one place).   At some point B came in to see what the commotion was but then went right back to bed. 

So now I'm cleaning glass out of the tub with one hand, and trying to keep the 10 month old out of the trash can full of glass with the other hand.  Eventually, Baby E turned to play with something else so I was able to begin to make some real headway with the glass cleanup.  Well, Baby E had found my giant Warehouse Club bottle of Zyrtec (with a childproof cap).  I thought with the cap on tightly it would be safe enough to let him rattle it and teeth on the lid.  WRONG AGAIN!  Just as I'm about to finish the glass cleanup I heard the unmistakable sound of a thousand tiny pills scattering on the tile floor.  Then I turned to see the 10 month old sitting in the middle of all those pills.  Could this day get any better? 

As my exhausted body met with complete and total frustraition the tears began to fall.  I moved the 10 month old out of the pile of pills and became a human road block between him and the pills as he squirmed and screamed while trying to get around me.  Eventually Baby E gave up and sat and cried.  So this tired mom cried too.  I sobbed like a little girl while I tried to gather all those pills from the floor and recollect them into the bottle.   Then it was time to calm both myself and my child down. 

Once I got us both a little settled, I called my mom on the phone and begged for help.  I needed a babysitter just long enough that I could run to the store and grab a couple things to get this sick family through the day.  But by the time that my mom could get to the house, B's symptoms combined with a cronic condition to make us suspect that his gallbladder might be ready to rupture.  So off to the emergency room we went.  I left our sick child at home with my mom, I got myself dressed, and then I drove B to the hospital to sit and wait for 6 hours while they ran tests and bloodwork and X-rays.  All to find out that B has a virus. 

As I sat in those hard plastic chairs pregnant, sick myself, and watching my husband sleep on what I know for a fact to be one of the most uncomfortable cots around, I was a little jealous.  Here he was... sick, getting all kinds of care and waiting on, and sleeping in spite of everything.  Meanwhile my sick, exhausted, pregnant butt was going numb on a hard chair as I fought off periodic dizzy spells.  And earlier I thought my day couldn't get worse. 

Eventually, we did make it home.  I did manage to grab myself and my child some medicine at a pharmacy and my wonderful mother-in-law came and stayed the night with us to give me a hand yesterday.  Did I mention that it also took 1.5 hours to get Baby E down for the night?  Yep, normally we have no problems... Sunday night it was terrible.  Just one of those days, I guess.

Yesterday (Monday) all 3 of us stayed home from work/daycare.  I took Baby E to the doctor to get him an anti-biotic, and B went to his doctor (driven by his mom) to see if he needed some other kind of medication and whether or not he should be around me and Baby E.  He checked out okay with his doctor and eventually we all made it to bed last night.  Let me tell you it wasn't a moment too soon.  By bedtime, B said he was feeling better, Baby E was fairly tired and went down with no fuss, and I was still just as sick as the day before and still hadn't gotten any extra sleep in 2 days. 

Last night wasn't a good night for Baby E.  I guess the male gene kicked in because he woke up a 10:30 pm crying.  He again needed to be held and loved.  After an hour, I laid him back down but he woke right back up and proceeded to play in his crib for another hour.  I sat on the sofa in the living room watching the monitor until he went back to sleep.  Needless to say when the alram went off at 5 am this morning, I again didn't want to get up.  But I did.  I got up and drug myself around getting ready, packing lunches, and getting Baby E up and dressed. 

Just before we were ready to leave the house B annouced he was feeling bad and staying home again.  I had hoped that he would drive us to work and I could sleep for 30 minutes in the car.  No dice again.  He called at 10 this morning to tell me he'd just gotten out of bed (lucky dog).  I wanted to stay home too, but since I'm having a baby in May, I have to save every minute that I can.  Plus, if I had stayed at home I would have felt like I needed to keep Baby E at home too.  I haven't heard from the daycare so I assume Baby E is having a good day.  If not, I don't want to know about it yet.  I have 2 more hours before I get off work and have to go pick up more meds and formula.  Then I'm going home.  I hope that B is in the mood for leftovers because I'm dang sure not cooking. 

To be perfectly honest, I was a little angry at B this morning for staying at home.  Maybe not angry, maybe just jealous.  I think the last few days have taken every last ounce of sympathy out of me.  I no longer have the ability to feel bad for B.  I do wish he would feel better, but almost as much for me to have some help again as for him to not be sick.  It's not that I don't love my husband... I do very much.  But I no longer have the energy in me to take care of 3 sick people.  I'm tired, I'm frustraited, and I really just wish than men had to "man up" the way we women have to when we're sick. 

Maybe I'll feel better once I can breathe again (if that ever happens).  How do you cope when your man is sickly?