Prissy girl goes messy

My girl is ALL GIRL. She doesn't like getting dirty, she loves twirling in dresses, and she gets upset if she gets dirt, sand, or food stuck on her hands. She walks up to me and asks me to brush it off.

So imagine my surprise when I turned around and saw that she got into a chocolate snack and was happy about it.

I had to laugh when she started licking her hands.

Oh my sweet child.

Happy Friday!

Her First Teddy Bear

I grabbed the first bear I got her from her display shelf in her room. I took it down and pushed his hand and the sound of a heartbeat filled the room. Her heart beat. I remember the day I recorded it when I was very pregnant and eager to meet my little princess.

I picked this bear because it reminded me of the one I had when I was a little girl. I named him Teddy Jr. After my Teddy.

I left him naked thinking someday my little girl can pick out clothes for him--If she chooses. I sorta like the look of naked bears.

Though she has a growing slew of stuffed animals and baby dolls, it appears she has a sweet spot for Teddy Jr. I secretly hope she'll keep a special place in her heart for him a very long time, just as I did for mine.

And every time she pushes his hand to hear the thumping of it's heart, I'll smile and remember what that sound meant to me.

***

I was not compensated in any way for writing about Build a Bear, CouponCabin offered a giveaway for my readers and I thought I'd write about the cute one we already had. CouponCabin is helping to give the gift of Build a Bear with their online coupons. Here's one for $10 off $40. They've also graciously offered a $100 electronic gift card to one of you fabulous Baby Making Machine readers. Use the Rafflecopter widget below to enter. Good luck!


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Quality vs quantity time with my daughter

What matters more: The amount of time you spend with your child, or the quality of time you spend together?

I think I've learned the answer to that question this week.

It's been slightly insane the past few days. My husband is now halfway through his training and we're beginning to get a taste of what his schedule will be like once he graduates.

He's in to work at 5pm and not home until after 2am. This week I was beat and in bed before he got home then back at work before he and Lil' J woke up. It's just been one of those weeks where I wonder what it would be like if I stayed at home with her and didn't have any place I had to be.

I tried my best to hurry to work early so I could get home earlier, and catch my husband before he left for work. But he had to leave extra early for his shift and by the time I picked up Lil' J from school and made it home, I'd just miss him. I was frustrated and felt like I was seeing both of them... Well, never.

I have some time off coming up around the holidays, which normally is a good thing for most people, but for me this means I have to put in a little more work now. I'm writing and editing stories in advance, and doing extra interviews.  Everything combined means a little more overtime and a little less time at home with my family.

I know I get a mix of sentiments from other moms. Some know exactly how I feel and others don't wish they were in my shoes. I suppose some could wish they were, but I doubt it.

That full-time daycare that we pay for, but use part-time finally earned its keep this week.We took her all five days versus her usual three.

It's not like she doesn't like it. In fact, my husband told me this morning she kept grabbing his shoes, demanding he put them on, and shaking her car seat, while saying "skoo" "skoo" which means "school" in Lil' J talk. I just feel bad when she's spending more time playing with her teachers and friends than she is playing with me.

There's hardly anything in this world that makes me feel worse than picking my daughter up from school and only having time to feed, bathe and dress her for bed before it's time for us to crash and do it all over again in the morning.

I had had enough. It was time to reconnect.

I went in a couple of hours earlier than I normally do and told myself I was skipping a lunch and leaving exactly eight hours later. Then I picked my daughter up for some good old fashioned fun.

Normally when I want to have a blast, I take her somewhere.--A park with slides, a museum, a water playscape, or petting zoo. But tonight we'd bring the fun to us.

We had just received our finger puppets in the mail courtesy of Her Threaded Needle. One set for of Old Mc. Donald's farm, and another of 5 little monkeys.

Before we even got inside I pulled them out and showed them to her. She had never seen finger puppets like this before but I knew she's love them because she loves puppets and she loves singing. Sure enough, I couldn't even get them all on my fingers before she pulled them off to try for herself.

We changed into our PJs long before it was time for bed so we could eat cheese and crackers, talk, and play. She shows me her toys and babbled to me, and I replied. It made me stop and think how often I give her my undivided attention on a regular basis, and how often is my mind someplace else. In this very moment, I was all hers.

In her room I took out the monkey finger puppets and sang the "Five Little Monkeys" song, and tried my best to make it as hilarious as possible. BOINKing my head when the monkey's fell and hit their head, and jumping when they jumped. I think it worked. She of course wanted to sing it too. Then, just before lights out time, I taught her one of the coolest things she's ever learned--How to jump.

I pretty sure in this moment, and right after I kissed her goodnight she was thinking something like:
"COOLEST. MOM. EVER!"

I may not get to spend all the time I would like with her. I may not be home with her every day. But I make the most of the time we do have together. Because I think it's quality that matters more than quantity.

***

Rachel, owner of Her Threaded Needle has graciously offered to giveaway a set of Christmas finger puppets to one of my readers.

Just enter using the tool below (if you don't want to use your facebook account, click the small print that says you want to use your name and email address). It's a quick one so you can get it by Christmas. Ends 12:01am on Monday. Good luck!

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Shopping with Lil' J will never be the same

When Lil' J was an infant, I loved staring at my little blob. Then when she started to sit up and crawl it was fun watching her slowly pick up new tricks. When we'd go out it was always easy to contain her. But now? Now that we've hit the toddler years, I'm dealing with a whole 'nother animal.

Next time we go out I really need to take a picture of how we roll. We roll in a mobil pack n' play. Or at least, that's what the woman at the fabric store called it when she saw us. I agree with the brilliant description.

Basically, it's throwing her some toys, snacks, and water in the main part of the shopping cart and letting Lil' J entertain herself while I shop around the store.

I used to wear her in my carrier and that worked before she started walking but now she likes to get down. Then I'd put her in the seat part of the shopping cart but that wasn't busy enough for her. I would use the Walmart limo (you know, the car with the two extra totally open plastic seats for kids to jump off of while you're driving down the aisles.. Oh, wait... That's just my daughter?), but I'm too worried moms will two or more kids will give me the stink eye. So I resorted to this. Why? Well, because walking around is destined for doom. If you haven't read my BabyCenter blog you probably have no idea what I'm talking about.

We were fabric shopping—Well, I was fabric shopping; Little J was tagging along, at a local store when it stuck me. I was in the very predicament I thought I’d never find myself in: Child being entertained by random objects that should be off-limits, and mother in distress.

I’ve found myself in this predicament more often than I’d like recently. Before she started walking it was easy to keep her close at bay in the shopping cart I’m pushing around. But since she recently discovered how to walk along side me, she’d much rather use her own legs. I haven’t resorted to a leash—That’s on the list "HAIL NAHS" I made way back when before I was pregnant. Come to think of it, I wonder how many of those I've already done. 

I had a heap of fabric on my shopping cart to get cut, but I wanted to put a roll back I decided I didn’t need.
Lil' J was right in front of me and the roll just went on the shelf a few feet around the corner.

I made a beeline for the shelf, set the fabric down, and turned back around to grab Lil' J, who had magically managed to run over to a display of plastic (or were they ceramic?)  fruit, grab the largest one–what looked like a giant pear—and bring it back to show me.

I tried to stay calm and quickly analyze the situation but the look on my face must have said “hey let’s play tag” because she immediately knew I was about to chase her and try to take her new treasure.
She let out a huge giggle, turned and started to run. But two steps in her retreat she dropped the shiny pear—Which was ceramic—And we watched it smash into a dozen little pieces.

Then came another decisive moment. Do I run?—No, of course not, there were probably bystanders watching the whole thing. Yell at her?—No, it was my fault. Pick up the pieces and offer to pay for it—Bingo!

It was humiliating to say the least. I worked in retail years ago and have been shopping enough, witnessing similar situations with other mothers and their children. I swore up and down that would never be me. Yet, here I am. Picking up pieces of an overpriced decoration that costs who knows how much because I was bright enough to take my eyes off her for five seconds (I still should have known because it only took four for her to throw my blackberry in the toilet).

Even though I offered to pay, they told me not to worry about it, and I confined my daughter to the shopping cart for the remainder of our trip. My guilt lead me to spend a little more than I ordinarily would have, and I even signed up for their rewards program. Hankock Fabrics has my business for life.

I’ve only been a mom for 17 months but I’m learning quickly. One thing I know for sure: Never say never, and don’t roll your eyes at that poor mother trying to do her best, because in another year, that could be you.

Because you asked...

Remember in my 365 post earlier this week I posted a picture of Lil' J with her crawling in her dress? Well, without her dress she still does. I guess it's habit now since she's almost always in a dress. In this video she's making a beeline for the pool. That's why I had to cut it short.

We were at a work pool party last night and I had just changed her before we left. I should have got this in her cute bathing suit but there will be pictures of that in next week's 365 photos. Someone wanted to see a video of how she looks so here she is. She kinda reminds me of  Mowgli from The Jungle Book.

Source

Why babies and blackberries don't mix

You know how they say "it only takes a second"? And by they, I mean anyone who ever preaches about how quickly things can go wrong. Well, they weren't lying. Especially when it pertains to children who have the slightest ability to move.

Case in point:

Lil J was just beginning to roll over, but usually didn't move as much when she was calm and sleepy after a nice warm bath. She was all wrapped up naked and snug in her little hooded towel when I set her on the bed and turned around to grab her diaper that was hanging on the shower rod. Bet you can guess what happened next.

Yep, my giggly naked little infant was giddy as she turned herself over on her stomach. I saw her smile for a split second before her little body rolled off my California king-sized bed, feet first. It was the saddest thing I had ever seen. Luckily she wasn't hurt, just surprised into tears, and I scooped her up and soothed her.

Of course my husband came running upstairs to ask what happened and chastised me for turning away from her.

"It was only a second!" I defended.

But that was all it took.

You'd think I'd learn my lesson to never take my eyes of my little one, especially now that she is extremely mobile, opening drawers pulling things out, throwing things etc. I'm not sure if her favorite thing to get into is the spatula drawer or the toilet but neither are a real good thing.

She loves water so we have to be sure to shut the bathroom or else she'll crawl in and play in the toilet. Not climb in, but she'll splash around.--I know, it's gross. But we don't let her do it, we grab her and shut the door as soon as we see her going for it.

She also likes to play in the bathroom while I'm using the bathroom. I'll usually hand her something like a (closed) tube of mascara or a bag of baby wipes to keep her entertained, and from reaching behind my butt when I'm going to the bathroom. Last night, I handed her my blackberry.

After I was done, washed my hands, and ready to get a move on, I realized I had forgotten my iPhone on the porch, where we were just a moment before taking pictures. The guest bathroom is a few feet from our front door, so I left Lil' J content with my phone in the bathroom while I ran and opened the front door to grab my other phone.

Just a moment after shutting the toilet, turning away, and opening the front door to grab my phone I heard it... CLUNK!

It wasn't a large enough clunk to be Lil' J but it sounded a little louder than her hand. I turned back around and looked in the bathroom to see what I'm sure thousands of mom around the world have seen. A blackberry sinking to the bottom of the toilet, and a very proud baby looking down amazed--hand still outstretched, and palm still wide open with excitement over her achievement.

I couldn't be mad at her. I actually laughed. If I were watching a movie about this experience I would have seen this coming from a mile away. Turns out, Hollywood can be more realistic than I thought.

For a moment I even thought of taking a photo but that just didn't seem right. I'd better save the phone first. But inspired by Amber Dusick's series of "real life parenting" series, I decided to draw a depiction of how it went down. Dude, Paint is way better than Photoshop, I'm all over this!

I quickly grabbed it from the toilet, said a quick prayer of gratitude thanking the Lord for not letting us be one of those "if it's yellow let it mellow" families. --Maybe pre-kids but once you have a baby you've gotta flush that stuff. Or get a child safety lock on your throne, and hope you've never have a restroom emergency while forgetting how to get it unlatched.

I disassembled the phone and set it on the counter to let it air out. I had another phone once that had gotten a little wet, but after setting it in the sun to dry off for a bit it worked like a charm.

My husband got back from his jog and noticed my phone in pieces.

"What happened to your phone?" He asked me. I didn't feel like admitting my stupid mistake.
"Don't worry about it," I told him.
"Why it is in pieces?"
"Because she threw it... in the toilet" I added softly.
"She threw it?"
"Yes!!!" I was getting annoyed.

I don't know why he didn't just leave it alone but he put my phone back together and asked why it wouldn't turn on.

"BECAUSE SHE THREW IT IN THE TOILET. WILL YOU LEAVE IT ALONE?"

My patience was running out with these people as I was still looking for my other phone (which wasn't on the porch like I had thought).

After using "Locate my iPhone" to find it stuck between the couch on silent, (this is actually a really cool tool. You can get it to make a noise for two  minutes even when it's on silent so you can find it) I was ready to handle to the original problem.

I grabbed the pieces of my blackberry, a Ziploc bag and some rice from my cabinet. I remember reading someone's facebook status just a day earlier about her son dropping her phone in the toilet (seriously, does this happen to everyone?) and several people had told her to put it in a jar/bag/container of rice and that it would suck the moisture out.

I'm not sure if it matters if the rice is white, brown, regular or minute, but I used the brown minute rice I had on hand.

I put all of the ingredients together in a Ziploc back and swished it around. Then I realized I wasn't making shake and bake chicken and that my additional technique probably wasn't necessary.

"What are you doing?" My husband again had the nerve to interfere.

I told him I had read somewhere that uncooked rice can help suck the water out of dunked phones.

"Really?" He wasn't buying it. "What if it's some kind of a sick joke to mess up your phone?"

"Well it's already broken anyway so it can't hurt," I pushed back. "Besides, this is like all over Twitter and Facebook, how could that many people be in on it?" I couldn't believe I had just cited social networking sites as my source but I guess that's the day and age we live in.

So my phone is sitting on my counter, immersed in a bag of uncooked rice. I would have been more devastated if this were my iPhone but my blackberry isn't as much of an addiction. I'll take it out of the bag in about 12 hours and hope for the best. I'll let you know if it works.

I'm also probably going to buy a few of these just in case.