My daughter the literary genius already flips the pages of her fave book, Hand Hand Fingers Thumb at age 3 1/2 months. Unfortunately, the video I have to prove this amazing fact won't load onto this cheap-ass blogger site despite my having left it to process for an entire week. (insert pissed off maternal mumbling here)
Leaving aside the disappointment I'm sure you all feel at not being able to view my daughter's amazing antics, I'm sure you'll agree that she's obviously a chip off the old maternal block so the greatest literary work of the English language can't be far behind.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
The Clash of the Titans 2010
Before you get too excited, this post isn't about the new movie (scheduled to hit theatres in April for anyone who is interested in watching another movie starring that dude from Avatar). No, this is about the battle of wills currently underway here in Vancouver's east end.
My daughter may have her father's chin but she definitely inherited her mother's stubbornness because when she decides that it is NOT nap time she has absolutely no problem letting you know. At the top of her lungs. For a very long time. A very, very long time.
Of course, during those rare times when she takes a break from screaming out her frustration, she rubs her eyes and yawns almost continuously but apparently that's beside the point: Princess Brynn has decreed that this isn't nap time and no silly need to actually sleep is going to change her mind.
I listen to her rant and rail and I try my best not to feel like a complete shmuck for "forcing" my child to go down for the nap she quite obviously needs. There is nothing worse than listening to her cry, except for listening to that little snuffling, hiccuping noise she makes after she is finished crying. Each little sniffley snuffle says, "I can't believe you did this to me mommy." Ouch.
Somehow, each time I manage to hold on and she eventually goes to sleep, leaving me feeling like I've been to hell and back while she blissfully snores away.
Who's winning this war? Beats me but at least one of us is sleeping well in spite of herself.
My daughter may have her father's chin but she definitely inherited her mother's stubbornness because when she decides that it is NOT nap time she has absolutely no problem letting you know. At the top of her lungs. For a very long time. A very, very long time.
Of course, during those rare times when she takes a break from screaming out her frustration, she rubs her eyes and yawns almost continuously but apparently that's beside the point: Princess Brynn has decreed that this isn't nap time and no silly need to actually sleep is going to change her mind.
I listen to her rant and rail and I try my best not to feel like a complete shmuck for "forcing" my child to go down for the nap she quite obviously needs. There is nothing worse than listening to her cry, except for listening to that little snuffling, hiccuping noise she makes after she is finished crying. Each little sniffley snuffle says, "I can't believe you did this to me mommy." Ouch.
Somehow, each time I manage to hold on and she eventually goes to sleep, leaving me feeling like I've been to hell and back while she blissfully snores away.
Who's winning this war? Beats me but at least one of us is sleeping well in spite of herself.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
The 7th ring of Hell
Picture this:
You're in a car.
You've just picked up your mother from the airport.
You're facing an hour and a half minimum more in the car.
And...your child decides NOW is the time to freeeeeeeeak out like they've never freaked out before.
OMG is it a dirty diaper? An empty belly?
God only knows and he's playing his cards close to the chest so you're left with a child who is screaming so loud the car next to you is shaking and you have no idea of what needs to be done to help. Judging by the noise, it sounds more like some invisible somebody is ripping your kid's toenails out in the backseat but since that's kind of unlikely you fall back on the old favourites:
Diaper change? Check. Still screaming? Check.
Bottle? Check. Still screaming? Check.
Augh!
Yup. Feel that sweat trickle down your back while you flail around for a crying cure 'cause let me tell you...your kid's favourite toy or mommy's "silly face" just isn't going to do it THIS time.
Oh yeah. And while you're sitting there sweating and feeling like a failure as a mother, be forced to whip out a boob in a ridiculously busy parking lot in a last ditched attempt to soothe your baby.
Motherhood. It's all about the glamour.
You're in a car.
You've just picked up your mother from the airport.
You're facing an hour and a half minimum more in the car.
And...your child decides NOW is the time to freeeeeeeeak out like they've never freaked out before.
OMG is it a dirty diaper? An empty belly?
God only knows and he's playing his cards close to the chest so you're left with a child who is screaming so loud the car next to you is shaking and you have no idea of what needs to be done to help. Judging by the noise, it sounds more like some invisible somebody is ripping your kid's toenails out in the backseat but since that's kind of unlikely you fall back on the old favourites:
Diaper change? Check. Still screaming? Check.
Bottle? Check. Still screaming? Check.
Augh!
Yup. Feel that sweat trickle down your back while you flail around for a crying cure 'cause let me tell you...your kid's favourite toy or mommy's "silly face" just isn't going to do it THIS time.
Oh yeah. And while you're sitting there sweating and feeling like a failure as a mother, be forced to whip out a boob in a ridiculously busy parking lot in a last ditched attempt to soothe your baby.
Motherhood. It's all about the glamour.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Truth and Dare
Truth: I'm in love.
No, not just love, I'm talking lovelove. Love that starts with a capital "L". Love that mows you over, chews you up and then spits you out kind of Love. I always knew I would love my BabyBug but this? There's just no preparing yourself for this.
Dare: I dare you - any of you...all of you - not to feel that same insanity when looking at your your own child.
It is impossible for me to look at her and not feel capital "L" Love. I feel it when she smiles at me. I feel it when she cries. I feel it when I see how her little back curves when Scott picks her up at night to carry her to bed.
Don't get me wrong. I haven't gone to the "M" zone. I'm not running out to buy mommy jeans and I'm not going to spend the rest of my life boring people with stories of how amazing little Brynn is (although, let me assure you that she is pretty fucking amazing haha). I'm still planning mani/pedi dates with the girls and I've still got plenty to talk about besides the awesomeness that is my little girl. However...the truth of it is...this mommy thing is pretty sweet because absolutely nothing beats the curve of my little baby's cheek or the sweetness of her giggles when I kiss her in the morning and I have no problems bragging about that.
No, not just love, I'm talking lovelove. Love that starts with a capital "L". Love that mows you over, chews you up and then spits you out kind of Love. I always knew I would love my BabyBug but this? There's just no preparing yourself for this.
Dare: I dare you - any of you...all of you - not to feel that same insanity when looking at your your own child.
It is impossible for me to look at her and not feel capital "L" Love. I feel it when she smiles at me. I feel it when she cries. I feel it when I see how her little back curves when Scott picks her up at night to carry her to bed.
Don't get me wrong. I haven't gone to the "M" zone. I'm not running out to buy mommy jeans and I'm not going to spend the rest of my life boring people with stories of how amazing little Brynn is (although, let me assure you that she is pretty fucking amazing haha). I'm still planning mani/pedi dates with the girls and I've still got plenty to talk about besides the awesomeness that is my little girl. However...the truth of it is...this mommy thing is pretty sweet because absolutely nothing beats the curve of my little baby's cheek or the sweetness of her giggles when I kiss her in the morning and I have no problems bragging about that.
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