**Waves White Flag Frantically**

I suck at Competitive Mom-ing. I swore I would never be one of those moms who compares their children to other children. Or buys their children fancy educational toys … I mean, Kaluza’s work on the String Theory was done so without the help of the Leapfrog Learning Table, right!? Anyway, I have stuck to my guns about these things. But, that makes me look like a total reject when talking to other moms.

For example, the other day I’m talking to another mom about Sabine. She has a daughter who is eleven months old. Her third. The conversation goes something like this:

Other Mom: “Almost seven months! WOW! Is she crawling yet?”

Me: “No, not yet.”

Other Mom: “Oh, she should be soon! At least you’re enjoying her sleeping through the night, right?”

Me: “No, she pretty much gave up on sleeping through the night.”

Other Mom: “What about talking? Is she talking? Presley was starting to talk at that age.”

Me: “Uh, sorta? She makes sounds …”

And the conversation drops off at this point. Yeah, she makes sounds. She screams “HEY!” a lot. “EHHHHH!” at the dogs (By the way, does this mean she’s part Canadian!?) and “Ba?” while giving a quizzical look. That’s really the best I could come up with. “Sorta.”

The nutzo part of this is that it ALMOST made me question my child’s development and my own parenting tactics. Actually, it did make me question them. But only for a minute. Then I thought, “What the eff am I thinking!? My child doesn’t need a resume! She needs to be a baby!” And this is where my white flag went up.

Sabine will never have toys that scream at her in four different languages. Most of her toys are wooden. The ones that should be flashy screamy aren’t so much because I refuse to put batteries in them.  (Thanks, Holly, for the ADD paranoia.) And, you know what? She’s FINE. She may not be crawling, or sleeping consistantly, or discussing Libertarianism with me but she is perfect, just the way she is. Much as other babies are perfect just the way they are. And I am cool with that idea. Competition is not my thing.  At least when it comes to babies. If you’re talking Rummy, all bets are OFF!


Damn you, Medela.

We have used the Medela bottles since Sabine started to take bottles. They are the only ones that worked even remotely well for her. Over the course of six months, we lost nipples for these bottles. Three became two, then two became one, at which point I ordered new nipples. The nipples that came with her bottles looked like this:

The new Medela nipples are TOTALLY different. Just round, simple, boring … and loathed by one Marion Sabine. I have searched high and low for the old style nipples in med-flow and have had NO luck. I mentioned that two became one, at one point. Well, one eventually became none and we are left with only sucktacular nipples now.

Sucktacular nipples have been in use for three days now and Sabine has cut her bottle consumption more than in half. She just refuses to use them. She has begun reverse cycling instead of eating during the day and nursing like a newborn in the evening.  I need old style Medela nipples. And I need them NOW.

Damn you, Medela. You are making this whole working mom thing incredibly harder than it already was.

James and the Giant Case of Poliomyelitis

I was so upset over the fireworks on the 4th that I forgot this little giggle from earlier in the day.

We went to Brandon’s parent’s for a cook-out on the 4th because, well, thats what we always do. Unfortunately. Did I say that out loud? Oops.

Anyway … while we were there, we were discussing Sabine’s transition into solids. I commented that the only thing she REALLY hated was peaches. Now, Brandon’s dad sometimes pulls things out of his ass. I don’t really know if he believes these things or not, but he makes some pretty nonsensical remarks about health subjects occasionally. Ok, often times. This is made even funnier by the fact that BIL is a PA.

The conversation went something like this:

Me — Yeah, Sabine has been a really good eater. The only thing she isn’t keen on are peaches.

FIL — Thats just as well.

Me — *Confused look* Why is that?

FIL — You know, peaches can cause Polio.

Me — *More confused look*

At this point I look at BIL, who is conviniently exiting the room. I have no back-up. I can delve deeper into this remarkable new found peach-polio connection, or I can keep my damn mouth shut. I choose the later because, well, its quicker and less painful.

Happy 4th, I suppose.

I stumbled upon this blog today and like it very much. I think you all will too. There is even a cute AIO line-drying pic in there somewhere:


I stumbled upon it by checking out STTN related blog entries. I was checking out STTN related blog entries because Sabine is no longer STTN … for the past week. Guess I shouldn’t have gloated, huh? Actually, I’m fairly sure it is teething related. I can see the nasty little sucker beginning to poke through. Stupid teeth.

Tonight, as well, we have fireworks. Fireworks at the Armory two blocks from my house. They are LOUD. The dogs are freaking out. Sabine keeps waking up. I hate fireworks. If they figure out a way to make silent fireworks, I might be interested in that. Until then, I will buy stock in Rescue Remedy and walk the halls with my daughter. Over and over.

Boy, I am a big ball of light today!