I'm so not good at this anymore

My life is a blur. The girls are growing and learning every single day and I just can't keep up with it all. There are TONS of pictures, mostly on my phone though, that I should print and/or save and/or upload but there's no time to just sit in front of a computer and do it all.





Mags, 15 months old, says lots of words: Tata (her favorite person ever), Mama, MOM! (she yells it when she wants my attention), Da, DAD! (see MOM!), Aya (Amalia), papa (food), pa (pan/bread), caco (cracker), school, salsa, sushi, book, uh oh, fah (fall), ta-dah!, caca (vaca/cow, not what you think), coco (when she's hurt or when she's dirty). She makes animal sounds too, meowing, barking and quacking at the appropriate animal pictures or the animals themselves. She makes mad faces for fun and we act like she's scary. She runs laughing when I tell her that I need to change her diaper and sometimes gets away during the process. She throws her diapers into the trash for us. She's a slippery little one, a fast little girl. And she understands everything. She's also very "helpful." She loves dresses, just like her big sister, and when she's wearing one she'll twirl. She's a love but sometimes she has an enormous temper.



Animalia, 4 years old, makes us laugh every single day. She's smart and verbal. I think she gets frustrated with kids who don't have the same vocabulary that she does. She uses words like "frustrated" and "upset" to describe her moods and sometimes she wants to be left alone. But most of the time she's creative and clever. She plays submarine at the dinner table, eating her dinner while pressing imaginary buttons and pulling imaginary levers. It's actually not as disruptive as it sounds. She writes her name, has been for quite awhile, have I blogged about that? She still loves books and princesses and her family.





They get along fine most of the time, they give each other hugs and kisses. Sometimes they fight over things and sometimes Mags just wants her big sisters attention. Sometimes there's rage and we have to separate them but those times are relatively rare. Mags just wants to do everything her big sister does.

Back to work

Starting today. Back to work. Part time for a month at least, otherwise it'd be too painful for words. It's already painful enough as it is.

Madi is now Magdalena Luna Lunera Cascabelera Cinco Pollitos, according to her big sister. What a nickname, no? This one is definitely harder to leave than her sister was. She's grown so much but is much more attached than her sister was, even at the tender age of 10 weeks. She needs me more for some reason and I say that knowing the absurdity of a 10 week old not needing mama, but Animalia was just less like that. Does that make sense?

Madi's 2 month checkup:
First vaccines (she cried and then fell asleep but was cranky for 2 days after), weight: 12lbs (catching up!), length: 22.75 inches (shorty!).

Everything else:
Getting used to getting ready in the morning is going to be rough. Dropping off Animalia at school and leaving Madi with Nana and Tata is going to be rough. Pumping during my breaks is going to be rough. It's all going to be rough. I'm exhausted already and it's only 9:30am and I've only done this once so far. Low grade panic setting in... breathe.... breathe.

Two Friends!

Animalia was way too excited when I brought Ana (Raggedy Ann) and Petunia (teddy bear) to sit with her at her tea party last night. It was almost sad when she giggled, "I have TWO friends!" She played tea party with them happily but I couldn't help but think that she needs to see more kids. I need to put more effort into that.

Directing the parent

While I was at an evening meeting...

"Daddy, I need to go poop in the potty. Right now. You need to take me." orders Animalia. So he does. Once she's finished what she needed to finish, she tells him, "Daddy. Now I need to eat dinner. Right now."

He says he felt like he was being reprimanded for coming up short as a parent. I reminded him that she's only two.

The accident

This happened about a month ago.

One day Amalia, distracted by fun things like toys and playing, had an accident. I knew, as I approached her, that she'd done something. She was sitting in the middle of the living room floor, kind of frozen in position... and then I noticed her wet bottoms. I remember stripping her down and leading her to the shower. She kept covering her face with her arm and whispering "You don't go pipi in your chones, only in the potty." I felt so bad for her. I couldn't punish her or even say stern words. She was punishing herself. Then her Daht found the major puddle hidden under one of her doll's blankets. She knew. And she was ashamed. I was so sad that she was so sad.

I'll have to tell her that story one day, tell her that we didn't need to punish or chastise her, that she did it to herself.

I've been working.

I've been working. The regular ol' job plus some extra, on-the-side work teaching digital storytelling to some lovely ladies for some vacation money plus dentist and doctor's appointments. There have been repercussions to this. The blog is sorely in need of updating as there are many cute and hilarious things that Animalia is doing lately, so I'm catching up, finishing blog posts that I started but didn't finish and quickly writing new ones about things that I don't want to forget. Also, Animalia is clingy. She fights with people when I'm around, trying to steal precious moments for herself. This past Saturday, she even pushed her Tata away, saying "Get away from me! I'm with my mom!"

So yesterday was my first real day off all alone with Animalia in almost two weeks. We slept in and then spent most of the day cuddling and hugging and giving random kisses. She sat on my lap and we read lots of books and at one point she said, "It's mama and Aya. Me and you. Me and you together." I squeezed her and gave her a kiss and felt love and guilt and happiness and sadness. I've been neglecting my baby a little bit for the greater good (I guess) but I may not care about the greater good at her expense.

Schedule, schedule, schedule

So it took a few days but we're somewhat settled into our routine again. Animalia is much calmer and nicer and easier than she was on vacation. Routine is important to her, makes her a nicer kid to deal with.

The "somewhat" part of "somewhat settled" is really that she's been exceptionally clingy with me. She cried yesterday when I left Nana's post-lunch break. This morning, when I told her she'd be eating breakfast with Daddy, she said "No. With Mommy" and when I told her I had to go to work, she asked, "With Aya?" I think it's a little rough for her to go from spending all waking (and sleeping) hours with Mama for an entire week to having to spend big chunks of time without me. It's hard for me too. Going back to the regular schedule gives me a bit of guilt. Vacation just reminds me how many more important things there are than work, with Animalia, of course, being at the top of the list.

So. It's this week and the coming week of schedule, schedule, schedule. Then we'll throw it out of whack again when we head to the Grand Canyon with Daht and Britta over Labor Day weekend. Then it's back to schedule, schedule, schedule. Unless I win the lottery.

Dog Days

Yesterday I was so tired I felt nauseous. I'm not exaggerating. Nauseous. Dizzy. Not processing correctly. I went for a lunchtime visit the Animalia at Nana y Tata's house and she was napping. She slept right through lunch. Part of me was disappointed since my lunchtime visits help get me through the rest of my crazy work day. The rest of me was relieved. I was so tired I didn't think I had the energy to play with her or chase her or read to her or tickle her. I just relaxed. Ate a little. Went back to work.

After work, I went home. She was already home with Daht. The nausea continued, not as strong as earlier in the day, more like background nausea. We went through our routine mostly, though after dinner, I "played" with her and read to her while laying on the couch. At one point, she asked me to "walk around the town" with her and "mama jump with Aya?" and I just couldn't get up. Daht offered but she turned him down by crying Mama, Mama! as if he were kidnapping her. I felt a little guilty, but too exhausted to do anything about it. I distracted her by asking her to bring me things, el libro de bear y dog, las chanclas, tu baby, Jack. Luckily Jack (her Jack in the Box) distracted her til almost bedtime. She hadn't played with him for awhile and she was finding him particularly hilarious, telling him, "Get in there, Jack," when the music stopped and he popped out and then "Jack jumping" while she bounced the entire thing on the couch mere inches from my head. Then we played a game called Are You? which consists of asking each other silly questions. "Are you a tickle pants?" I asked. "Are you a mama pants?" she responded.

Bedtime came soon enough. She fell asleep fairly easily. I was grateful. I went to bed early. I was almost asleep when I heard her say "Mama change the zapeta?" I groaned, got up, changed the zapeta. "Thanks, Mama, thanks," she said. Then she asked "?Es tiempo hace mimis?" "Si, es tiempo de hacer mimis," I told her. "OK!" she said, and then, out of the blue, quietly, "It's OK, mama." Then she rolled over and fell asleep. I was elated. Everyone slept comfortably and quietly through the night.

The hottest days of summer are the hardest for me. I'm swollen. I'm exhausted. My bones hurt. My hair falls out. My skin hurts. I have to take each day on it's own merits and the big picture blurs. So far so good though, as bad as all that sounds, I've been able to maintain somewhat. And though the guilt hits a little when Animalia wants me to jump with her, I have so far been able to come up with distractions. She's a good baby, that Animalia, a happy baby, and she entertains herself when necessary. She has her moments, but I'm beyond thrilled that her moments aren't really that bad. I've said this before, but I'll say it again. Nature gave me the baby I could handle.

Help you?

2am. I wake up in pain. Back spasms. I try to stretch. Not working. 2:30am, I give. I take a muscle relaxant. Everyone else is fast asleep. I stay awake until I feel it working, then I crash.

7am. Animalia wakes up. "Maaaaamaaaaaaa, wheh aaahhhhh youuuuu?" Daht is still in bed, having stayed up late playing video games. I stumble to her camita, lift her out and into bed with me. She likes to sleep til 8, so maybe she'll fall back to sleep. I still feel the pill.

7:15am. Animalia is bouncing on and around us. We're barcos first, then horseys. Mama and Daht are still asleep.

7:30am. A tiny voice says "Mama help you?" I open one eye. Animalia is wedged in the narrow space between the wall and the bed. I can only see her from the shoulders up. She's giggling. "Mama help you?" she asks again. I manage to wake up and pull her out of the hole. She hugs and kisses. She also wants off the bed. I put her in her bedroom, immediately adjacent to our room, and she wanders away to play.

7:45am. I hear her tiny voice talking to her zapatos, putting on calcetines, talking to her dollies. Daht decides to wake up at this point. I struggle to open my eyes. He tells me that she's fine, they'll hang out together, go ahead and get some more sleep.

8:00am. Animalia has entertained herself for an hour. The struggle is over. Awake has won. "Mama help you?" is echoing in my mind. Guilt has won.

The Tantrums

The following conversation is not imagined but rather inferred.

Me (singing): Poniendo los pantalones, pantalones, pantalones.
Animalia giggles.
Me (singing): Poniendo los calcetines, calcetines, calcetines.
Animalia giggles again.
Me: ¡Manitas pa'rriba!
Animalia complies happily.
I take off her shirt to replace it with a clean one.
Animalia screams: MOTHER. I DO NOT WANT TO WEAR A SHIRT TODAY. ONLY PANTALONES AND CALCETINES. PERHAPS ZAPATOS. PERO NO QUIERO UNA CAMISA. NO. NO. NO.



Right after her first birthday she started throwing these tiny little frustrated tantrums. I've read that it's right developmentally, no big deal, but damn. They only last a minute or so, sometimes less, but still. Damn. She just TELLS me but good. Sometimes she throws herself backward and if I'm right next to her, I'll grab her and lower her tiny little head to the ground where she'll proceed to roll back and forth for a minute until she's not as mad anymore. This also happens when we take something away from her. You know, like a dime or a button or something else tiny and potentially hazardous. Sometimes, unconciously, we take something away from her that isn't hazardous and she gets mad before we realize that we took a spoon or a cheerio, something totally safe. Sometimes she finds an errant cheerio on the ground and puts it in her mouth and we see her chewing and automatically sweep the mouth only to get smooshy cereal on our fingers and a guilty look from the Animalia that says, "What the hell?! Why did you force my papa out of my mouth? I was eating!" And then she screams and we feel bad and give her whatever it was we mistakenly took away and also we apologize. Profusely. Because she's rolling around on the floor and at that particular moment, we could have avoided it by not taking our eyes off of her for a second and knowing, somehow, maybe telepathically, that it was indeed JUST A CHEERIO.

Tuberculosis

So I get a text from the Nina a day or two ago. She asks how Animalia is and I say sick and she says her niece, the almost 2-year-old Peanut, is sick too. With tuberculosis, according to the Peanut herself. And I start to feel guilty.

What happened was...
On Monday, the Animalia woke up cranky but I completely disregarded the mood. We were going to meet the Nina and her sister and a couple of babies for breakfast. We went to Target first as it was kind of on the way and then proceeded to Cracker Barrel. Animalia fell asleep between Target and Cracker Barrel, and though I thought she'd wake up shortly after smelling food, she slept through most of breakfast. During this time, I held the baby Lito, who is so smoooshy and cuuuute, and we all chatted. The Animalia finally woke up... snnneeeeze! Runny nose. Eating. Saying hi to the other babies. Snnnneeeeze! I'm like, maybe it's allergies, because she didn't wake up that way. Her eyes start running. Someone says that her eyes are running so it's a cold. I'm puzzled as she doesn't usually get sick that quickly, it's more of a gradual thing that warns us in subtle ways, but the only warning I got was the cranky wake up. Sucks.

So the Animalia is sick. A cold. And now, because of us, two other babies are sick. Yes, there has been a text message exchange... "I don't want to be THAT mom." (The mom who takes sick children where there are other babies with complete disregard for what we'll all have to go through that night when the baby can't breathe). The reply was not to worry, I'm really not that mom. But I feel like THAT mom. I just do. Especially because the tiny baby Lito is little and tiny and colds when they're that small are SO MISERABLE. So, in this very public venue, I'm sorry on bringing the plague to your house. You know who you are.

Walking!

The Animalia, she's a big girl now, she takes steps!

After storytime, on September 27, 2008, the Animalia took her first real steps. She tried to take steps before, putting one tiny foot in front of her and tumbling, but not this time. This time she took FOUR STEPS before her tiny bottom hit the ground. I type this as if I was there, but no, the honest truth is that I was not there as I am a working mother. "Who was there?" you ask, shaking your head. Well, the Daht was there, also the Nina, Socorro, and the Animalia's friends Adelina and Anissa. They all clapped and were happy and immediately brought the Animalia to me, her mama who works, to show me some STEPS. And she did. She showed me her second four steps and I was glad. I laughed and almost cried. And clapped. And was awed.

Judge me.

I'm leaving the Animalia overnight. I'm heading to a conference.

Initially I thought that I could take her, that other people would be going, that my mom would go, or that Jimmy could take time off of work. None of those things happened. Then I thought that I would have to leave her here for 3 nights (major panic) but we worked it out so that the Da would take the Animalia and meet me there for the second and third nights. So the overnight isn't really that bad, but it feels bad. She's not even a year old, not weaned yet, and I put her to bed every night of her tiny life, so I think she'll be upset and probably a little confused when I don't pick her up after work tomorrow. Or maybe it's just me giving myself an anxiety attack and she'll be fine and only miss me fleetingly.

So now, actually, I've changed my mind. Don't judge me. I'm already judging myself a-plenty.

Enough to make me quit.

Yesterday, the Animalia was up early. She was playing in her crib quietly while I took a shower and gathered everything for the day. After a bit, she pulled herself up, and I guess I had passed her by one too many times because she started saying Mama! in her very best complaining voice. I had to go through her bedroom one more time. As I passed her yet again she looked at me and said,"Mama. Maaaamaaaaa. Buh bye?"

Seriously. I wanted to call work and say I was never going back. The guilt.

Oh weekend.

Whenever I have an extra day off or just have TIME, precious TIME to spend with the familia it makes it harder to go back the following week. I just want to be with the Animalia, with Jimmy, at home, at the drive in, grilling outside, planning an outing. Anything but work. It seems like such a waste of time with so many more important things to be accomplished. Like watching Animalia crawl furiously toward me, focused on my shoes, ready to pull herself up on my skirt or my pant leg.

She does that now, pulls herself up regularly. Sometimes she falls if we don't catch her quickly enough, we almost always do though. She crawls very quickly. She's growing two more teeth. She's starting to wave goodbye and give besitos. She stares at strangers, judging them.

I feel like I'm missing so much. It'll be bad next week, after I have a 3 1/2 day weekend. Just hard.

She's just little, I can't help it

I am occasionally filled with an irrational and unreasonable need to diagnose. If I have a rash, I get online and start looking at pictures of rashes. I once diagnosed myself with scabies on my elbow and have also diagnosed a multitude of sniffles, coughs, random aches and pains in this fashion. Lately, I have been using this irrational and unreasonable "skill" on the Animalia. What is that dry patch on her shoulder? It's scabies again. Why has she stopped making consonant sounds in favor of grunts? Autism or hearing loss? Both? Why has she stopped grunting and started doing raspberries again? Autism? Hearing loss? Getting used to chatting with her two new teeth? Is she sweating because she has a fever or because it's 95 degrees outside? Did she spit up because she's reacting to her most recent vaccination or because I put her on her belly after she nursed? Why is she so energetic today? Why is she sleepier the next day? Did she scratch herself on the nose? Did she eat enough today? Is she warm enough? Is she too warm? Panic. Panic. Panic. Why? WHY?! WHY!?

I guess I should stop. She's a healthy, bright, active baby girl. She has done everything on schedule, sometimes ahead of schedule. I am just unreasonable. I. Am. Being. Unreasonable. Repeat three times. There. Is. Nothing. Wrong. I. Am. Being. Unreasonable. Right? Right?!? Crazy mama, coming through!!!

OK, so I'm really not that bad. She's just little. I have to balance the incessant urge to protect her and to scoop her up in my arms and never let her get vaccinated and keep her in the house forever and ever with the part of me that wants her to explore and grow and get dirty and grow a healthy immune system and not be afraid of anything. Crap. Even when I sound less crazy the crazy shines through.

ay de mi

It's so hard to leave the Animalia at my mom's house. Just hard.

I saw her at lunchtime and tried to nurse her and she seemed hungry but didn't really want to eat much. She wanted to chat. I imagine that she was telling me about her day so far. It was so great. Then I ate lunch and she lunged at my food. She's getting interested in big people food now. I tried to nurse her again and she latched on and ate and ate and ate until her belly was hard and full. And then she dozed off. She kind of yelled at me when I picked her up. She wanted to cuddle and sleep and eat and just hang out and I had to come back to work.

I miss her when I'm here. I feel like I should be with her, staring at her, watching her do the entertaining things that she does.

Lame.

On a lighter note, here's the conversation I imagined this morning:
Animalia (dressed as a hobo): Mamá?
Me: Yes, baby?
Hobo Animalia: Why do you have to go to work? Why can't you just stay with me?
Me: Baby girl, I have to work so that you have a house to live in and food to eat and a nice car to cruise around in.
Hobo Animalia: Mamá, no necesito esas cosas. (I don't need those things). ¿No me dijiste que me veo tan curiosa vestida como vagabunda? (Didn't you tell me that I look so cute dressed as a hobo?)
Me: Yes, Animalia. You DO look cute dressed as a hobo. But real life hobos aren't cute.
Hobo Animalia: Oh. Really?
Me: Yes, Animalia. Really.

Reassuring myself

I think I'm a good mom. I have guilt at appropriate moments. I haven't shaken the baby. I chat with her, read to her, and show her fun things. Only rarely do I avoid the duties of motherhood and only then when I know she's being taken good care of. Like yesterday when I had to stop at Target anyway and kind of spent a little more time than I needed to, just aimlessly wandering, spending a few precious moments alone. And that's when the guilt came in. But I was doing something for the baby, right? Actually, I was doing two things for Animalia. I was a) buying diapers and b) taking a breath before diving back in for the evening. I swear that baby makes me tired. So there. I've confirmed it for myself. I'm a good mom. Phew.

I'm a terrible mother, friend and Christmas card sender

My baby girl is three and a half months old and her baby book is still almost completely blank. Strike that-- I have three baby books at home and one pregnancy journal. Blank. Blank. Blank. Blank. I'm a terrible mother. So I decided to start this blog. Now that I'm back to work full time, I'm more likely to sit down at a computer than I am to sit down with a baby book and a pen. In our house, pens are few and far between. This is going to be all about Mi Animalia.