Aren't these the best?
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Still paci free
I am somewhat dumbfounded to announce that not only are we still pacifier free, but Monkey has not thrown any fits about it! Not one single tantrum. Yes, she's asked for it several times, but each time we just remind her that she threw it away, and that ends the discussion. Miraculous, I tell you! I am going to have Monkey "decide" to do all momentous things from her on out. It stops whining in its tracks. Powerful shit, this "you did this so no whining" mantra. And I couldn't be prouder of my big girl. She is a rock star.
However, she is also a rock star that decided to wake up at 5:40am this morning. While M is out of town on business. So that my shower became a quickie bath and hair up in a ponytail (super professional, but it's my go-to hairdo) while Monkey chattered away in the bathroom, talking to me about water.
Then, I made Monkey's lunch while she watched Moustache. Moustache, by the way, is a cat that is helping teach Monkey French. Ok, so far she doesn't actually speak any French, but it is educational and she loves it. Thank you Moustache, for my five minutes.
Tonight we straighten up the apartment because tomorrow Grandma and 'Andpa come to town! Woo hoo!!!!!!!! M and I are driving up to the Berkshires this weekend for our friend's wedding, so Monkey will stay with the grandparents here in the city. I anticipate a lot of time in the park, and many many popsicles! Good times.
However, she is also a rock star that decided to wake up at 5:40am this morning. While M is out of town on business. So that my shower became a quickie bath and hair up in a ponytail (super professional, but it's my go-to hairdo) while Monkey chattered away in the bathroom, talking to me about water.
Then, I made Monkey's lunch while she watched Moustache. Moustache, by the way, is a cat that is helping teach Monkey French. Ok, so far she doesn't actually speak any French, but it is educational and she loves it. Thank you Moustache, for my five minutes.
Tonight we straighten up the apartment because tomorrow Grandma and 'Andpa come to town! Woo hoo!!!!!!!! M and I are driving up to the Berkshires this weekend for our friend's wedding, so Monkey will stay with the grandparents here in the city. I anticipate a lot of time in the park, and many many popsicles! Good times.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Two for flinching
So this past Saturday was a busy day. Not only did Monkey throw away her pacifier, she wiped out on the playground and is now sporting an ugly sore about an inch long where her upper lip should be. Ow.
M had Monkey at the playground and they were having a fantastic day. I was at home hanging stereo speakers. They came back in the house and Monkey was a mess. Because in a fit of brilliant quick thinking, Daddy had purchased a lime popsicle from one of the vendors in the park, letting Monkey suck on the popsicle both for distraction and to help reduce the swelling.
Once I got her into the tub to clean off the sugar (lime popsicle), dirt and blood, I could see that she had done a really good number on her lip. Poor thing. You could see shreds of skin hanging down (her inner lip) when she smiled, and even her nose had a scrape on it. Monkey doesn't understand the concept of swishing and spitting, so I couldn't get her to rinse the cuts inside her mouth out with either a salt gargle or diluted hydrogen peroxide.
We cleaned her off and put some neosporin on her outer lip and hoped for the best.
On Tuesday morning, when it was Monkey's first day back at school after Memorial Day, we walked into her daycare and were almost immediately greeted by her lead teacher, Veronica. Veronica is a nurse, and a wonderful teacher.
However, when Veronica bent down to greet Monkey (who was still strapped into her stroller at this moment in time), when she saw Monkey's face she flinched.
It's never good when a nurse flinches when looking at a wound.
Because it is her upper lip, which gets a lot of use with all the singing, talking, yelling, eating, drinking and smiling that Monkey does, the scab keeps splitting open and bleeding. It isn't infected, and it does keep getting better, but still - even today on the way to school I got a double-take from some grandma who leaned in close to look at Monkey and babble babytalk.
I think I should take a picture of her, all beat up. (Oh, and she has a bright red bruise/hickey like mark on her jawline, too. Who knows how she got that one!). I usually take photos of Monkey that try to capture her breathtaking beauty (yes, I am biased. It's my right, dammnit!). But this one I should preserve as well - its proof that our little girl is a trooper. She can tangle with the pavement and still keep on going.
M had Monkey at the playground and they were having a fantastic day. I was at home hanging stereo speakers. They came back in the house and Monkey was a mess. Because in a fit of brilliant quick thinking, Daddy had purchased a lime popsicle from one of the vendors in the park, letting Monkey suck on the popsicle both for distraction and to help reduce the swelling.
Once I got her into the tub to clean off the sugar (lime popsicle), dirt and blood, I could see that she had done a really good number on her lip. Poor thing. You could see shreds of skin hanging down (her inner lip) when she smiled, and even her nose had a scrape on it. Monkey doesn't understand the concept of swishing and spitting, so I couldn't get her to rinse the cuts inside her mouth out with either a salt gargle or diluted hydrogen peroxide.
We cleaned her off and put some neosporin on her outer lip and hoped for the best.
On Tuesday morning, when it was Monkey's first day back at school after Memorial Day, we walked into her daycare and were almost immediately greeted by her lead teacher, Veronica. Veronica is a nurse, and a wonderful teacher.
However, when Veronica bent down to greet Monkey (who was still strapped into her stroller at this moment in time), when she saw Monkey's face she flinched.
It's never good when a nurse flinches when looking at a wound.
Because it is her upper lip, which gets a lot of use with all the singing, talking, yelling, eating, drinking and smiling that Monkey does, the scab keeps splitting open and bleeding. It isn't infected, and it does keep getting better, but still - even today on the way to school I got a double-take from some grandma who leaned in close to look at Monkey and babble babytalk.
I think I should take a picture of her, all beat up. (Oh, and she has a bright red bruise/hickey like mark on her jawline, too. Who knows how she got that one!). I usually take photos of Monkey that try to capture her breathtaking beauty (yes, I am biased. It's my right, dammnit!). But this one I should preserve as well - its proof that our little girl is a trooper. She can tangle with the pavement and still keep on going.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Out of the mouth of babes
Out of the mouth of babes come the darndest things! Also usually known as the truth...
So last night we had a severe thunderstorm. Actually, I don't even know if it qualifies as that, since it was maybe 5 minutes long. But it was the most severe rain I've been in for decades. Rain coming down so hard you can't see. Wind whipping the rain, and dirt, and whatever else it can fling into the air, sideways. Cranes, signs, lampposts and trees creaking in the wind and whipping back and forth. Simultaneous thunder and lightening. And then, after 5 minutes, it was gone. Poof.
Well, during those choice 5 minutes to be outside, I was walking Monkey back to the apartment in her stroller. In a white linen suit. Nice.
We were walking on the west and north side of the Columbia University campus, which meant that there were no stores to duck into, no doors to take refuge behind - it was mostly walls and locked doors. So when the rain struck, we ran. Or rather, I ran while Monkey cried in her stoller and yelped with fear when the lightening struck.
We took some refuge in Teacher's College, but honestly by that point I was so soaked that it was better to just keep going.
So we got to our building, and the rain magically stopped. Our neighbors came out and kind of giggled at the sight of me. I let Monkey out of her stroller, and she took one look at me and said "uh oh" with a frown.
Sure enough, not only had my mascara run all down my face, it had dripped onto my white linen suit. I was a wreck! Monkey kept saying "uh oh" until we got upstairs and I washed off my melted face.
So last night we had a severe thunderstorm. Actually, I don't even know if it qualifies as that, since it was maybe 5 minutes long. But it was the most severe rain I've been in for decades. Rain coming down so hard you can't see. Wind whipping the rain, and dirt, and whatever else it can fling into the air, sideways. Cranes, signs, lampposts and trees creaking in the wind and whipping back and forth. Simultaneous thunder and lightening. And then, after 5 minutes, it was gone. Poof.
Well, during those choice 5 minutes to be outside, I was walking Monkey back to the apartment in her stroller. In a white linen suit. Nice.
We were walking on the west and north side of the Columbia University campus, which meant that there were no stores to duck into, no doors to take refuge behind - it was mostly walls and locked doors. So when the rain struck, we ran. Or rather, I ran while Monkey cried in her stoller and yelped with fear when the lightening struck.
We took some refuge in Teacher's College, but honestly by that point I was so soaked that it was better to just keep going.
So we got to our building, and the rain magically stopped. Our neighbors came out and kind of giggled at the sight of me. I let Monkey out of her stroller, and she took one look at me and said "uh oh" with a frown.
Sure enough, not only had my mascara run all down my face, it had dripped onto my white linen suit. I was a wreck! Monkey kept saying "uh oh" until we got upstairs and I washed off my melted face.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
God bless our garbageman! He's a regular little mother's helper....
This past weekend was a momentous one. Not only did M and I install (incorrectly, and then correctly) our new set of surround sound speakers without swearing or getting mad at each other, but Monkey THREW AWAY HER PACIFIER!
Let me repeat myself. Monkey willingly threw away her pacifier. It is gone. As in literally in the garbage, in the garbage truck, now in some godforsaken landfill...the point is, it is GONE FOREVER. Yes, my abuse of caps indicates how proud I am of my little girl. Ahem - my big girl.
Monkey has been addicted to the paci (aka the "please") for a while now. She was doing really well without it, and then got that nasty upper respiratory infection that required us to gas her with a mask three times a day. She (and we) were so traumatized by this that we let her have the pacifier whenever she asked for it, and lately, she asked for it all of the time. Literally it would be the first thing she asked for when she woke up. Before mommy, before milk....it was the please. And, since she wanted it in her mouth all the time while talking, it had to go. We didn't want her language to be delayed because she was talking around a pacifier.
Last Friday M and I went into Monkey's montessori daycare for a meeting on how to ditch the paci. We met with her lead teacher, Veronica, who told us this wonderful crazy story about how Roman (Monkey's favorite classmate) had given his pacifiers to the garbageman, and since he's obsessed with garbage trucks this worked brilliantly for him. I thought it was a great story, but M and I were going to just have Monkey collect and throw all her pacis into the garbage, then bring the garbage to the basement. No showy theatrics with the garbage truck for us. And besides, we didn't know what the garbage collection schedule was.
We'd been telling Monkey that her paci was going to go away for a while now, so this weekend wasn't a surprise. She's not a fan of surprises, and likes to know what is going on - routine is a toddler's friend, I tell you.
Saturday morning Monkey asked for a bagel for breakfast (I told you she's a New Yorker!). There weren't any in the apartment, so I threw on a sweatshirt and baseball (yes, Yankees) cap and out we went to the deli. With a paci.
On the way back, I noticed that the garbage was being collected. I decided what the hell - let's go for it!
We walked up to one of the garbagemen, and asked if we could throw away her pacifier. The guy must have kids, because he gave me a wide smile and said "whatever you need...". They even paused what they were doing to accomodate us.
Monkey gave the pacifier to the garbageman and said "bye bye paci", he made a big show of throwing it into the back of the garbage truck, and then they flipped the switch and crushed the garbage in the back! Something crunchy was in there because it made a lot of noise and splinters came flying out. It was awesome. I was SO proud of her! And god bless those garbagemen, pausing in their thankless job to help us out. They were wonderful.
We went upstairs and collected the rest of her pacifiers with daddy's help. Each time she threw one in the garbage bag we whooped for joy and clapped, and told her what a big girl she is. Then we ran back downstairs and got lucky enough to find another truck going by. Monkey threw the bag in the back of the truck and we were done!
She's asked for it since, but each time we remind her that she threw them away. And you know what? She's been just fine. My little girl is such a big girl!
Let me repeat myself. Monkey willingly threw away her pacifier. It is gone. As in literally in the garbage, in the garbage truck, now in some godforsaken landfill...the point is, it is GONE FOREVER. Yes, my abuse of caps indicates how proud I am of my little girl. Ahem - my big girl.
Monkey has been addicted to the paci (aka the "please") for a while now. She was doing really well without it, and then got that nasty upper respiratory infection that required us to gas her with a mask three times a day. She (and we) were so traumatized by this that we let her have the pacifier whenever she asked for it, and lately, she asked for it all of the time. Literally it would be the first thing she asked for when she woke up. Before mommy, before milk....it was the please. And, since she wanted it in her mouth all the time while talking, it had to go. We didn't want her language to be delayed because she was talking around a pacifier.
Last Friday M and I went into Monkey's montessori daycare for a meeting on how to ditch the paci. We met with her lead teacher, Veronica, who told us this wonderful crazy story about how Roman (Monkey's favorite classmate) had given his pacifiers to the garbageman, and since he's obsessed with garbage trucks this worked brilliantly for him. I thought it was a great story, but M and I were going to just have Monkey collect and throw all her pacis into the garbage, then bring the garbage to the basement. No showy theatrics with the garbage truck for us. And besides, we didn't know what the garbage collection schedule was.
We'd been telling Monkey that her paci was going to go away for a while now, so this weekend wasn't a surprise. She's not a fan of surprises, and likes to know what is going on - routine is a toddler's friend, I tell you.
Saturday morning Monkey asked for a bagel for breakfast (I told you she's a New Yorker!). There weren't any in the apartment, so I threw on a sweatshirt and baseball (yes, Yankees) cap and out we went to the deli. With a paci.
On the way back, I noticed that the garbage was being collected. I decided what the hell - let's go for it!
We walked up to one of the garbagemen, and asked if we could throw away her pacifier. The guy must have kids, because he gave me a wide smile and said "whatever you need...". They even paused what they were doing to accomodate us.
Monkey gave the pacifier to the garbageman and said "bye bye paci", he made a big show of throwing it into the back of the garbage truck, and then they flipped the switch and crushed the garbage in the back! Something crunchy was in there because it made a lot of noise and splinters came flying out. It was awesome. I was SO proud of her! And god bless those garbagemen, pausing in their thankless job to help us out. They were wonderful.
We went upstairs and collected the rest of her pacifiers with daddy's help. Each time she threw one in the garbage bag we whooped for joy and clapped, and told her what a big girl she is. Then we ran back downstairs and got lucky enough to find another truck going by. Monkey threw the bag in the back of the truck and we were done!
She's asked for it since, but each time we remind her that she threw them away. And you know what? She's been just fine. My little girl is such a big girl!
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