This morning was a big one for me and Annalise. It was the first time I dropped her off with a babysitter who wasn't her grandmother.
The first time I left Annalise with her grandmother, my mother-in-law, for a day was just after she turned one month old. And it was weird, definitely, but I wasn't sad. In fact, here's a good Mommy Confession - the very first time I was away from my daughter for more than a half hour, I was elated. I was a grown-up again, out of the house, driving! Dressing up for meetings! Talking about something other than breastmilk and diapers! I was happy to have her back in my arms that evening, but I didn't really mourn the hours "lost" either. Neither did Annalise, who stared wide-eyed at the new toys at Grandma's and was spoiled and cuddled to the content of both. And it stayed that way for over a year, until a lot of circumstances called for a change.
Today, when Annalise figured out Mum-mum was leaving her with a stranger, she cried, and I scurried out the door, cognizant of two things. One, if I stayed to comfort her, I would ultimately make it worse, because I would need to leave eventually. Two, that I had left my makeup bag at home, and my mascara was not going to last very much longer.
It was fine, of course, in the end. She had a great day with her new babysitter, who has her own daughter, and a tame, kid-loving cat. Lots of fun to be had, new things to explore, and a whole day in which to do it. And I was fine once I was on the road (more specifically, once I got a comforting text message from my husband reminding me that I was going to be just fine).
So there it is, another first in our book. Our day ended in a very regular way - Annalise wanted to be read to (tonight it was James and the Giant Peach, for about ten minutes, and then a variety from her growing Dr. Seuss collection), and she cuddled and hummed and played with my fingers as she dropped off to sleep.
Showing posts with label annalise ruth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label annalise ruth. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Monday, March 11, 2013
fox in socks
Ever since Annalise began to crawl, she gravitated toward the many (many!) books in our house. She was pulling them off shelves and flipping through them almost immediately. And when she started walking a few months ago, there really was no stopping her. To the books she would go.
Of course, I can't describe the elation I feel about this. When asked what my daughter's favorite toys are, the answer is usually "books, Minnie Mouse, her caterpillar pull toy, and books." She's fascinated by the sound pages make as they are flipped. She likes her board books, too, for chewing mostly, but also the bright pictures - she's started pointing at them and saying "dat?" to get answers from us. Need a distraction during a diaper change? The mini board book collection she has is perfect.
In the last couple of weeks, she's started searching for specific books and putting them in our hands to be read. The two most popular are "Sleepytime with Rory" by Chris Friden and "Fox in Socks" by Dr. Seuss.
I know from personal experience that repetition like this is great for the budding reader. Yes, she's far away from that stage, but this is all instructive in one way or another for her tiny mind. Who knows what wonders in literature lie in her future, all because she started out by asking us ("Dat-da, dee?" or "Mum-mum, dee?") if we would read her favorite books to her again and again.
So no matter how many times we put Rory to bed with Flicker, or how many beetle battle puddles my tongue trips over, I'm happy to comply with my daughter's requests.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Annalise Ruth
I have a tiny person sleeping in my lap right now (and here I am, breaking a cardinal rule about "sleeping when she sleeps" - that's a laughable concept, by the way). I would like to introduce you to her.
Our daughter Annalise Ruth was born on January 3, 2012 at 8:52pm, coming in at 7lbs 7oz and 21 inches.
I've gotten a lot of questions about her name. I knew that if we had a girl, I would want a somewhat Scandinavian-sounding name, and something that doesn't pop up on popular name lists. It took a little while, but Randy and I both liked Annalise. The question of a middle name was harder. We had a tentative agreement on one, but at the hospital as we were walking down to Room 3 from the registration desk, we had a mutual change of heart. You see, it was kind of funny to us, room 3 and it being January 3. This was at 2 in the afternoon - neither of us were sure that she would actually arrive on the 3rd, but if she did, well, Babe Ruth wore number 3 for the Yankees. And my mom was a huge Yankees fan. Wouldn't Ruth make a good middle name? Later, once I had an epidural and could carry on a conversation, we made it official.
"Annalise" is a modern spelling for the German/Scandinavian name "Anneliese" and it means "grace" or "graceful light." "Ruth" is Hebrew in origin and means "friend." I'm also particularly fond of the story of Ruth in the Bible.
So far, our baby girl is thriving. She likes to be held, but she's not fond of being swaddled and she pushes hats off her head or squirms out of them if she's lying down. She recognizes Daddy's voice when he comes home in the evening. She seems to like men's voices in general - if there is a man speaking on the radio or television and she's alert, she'll turn her head toward the source of the sound. She likes Christmas music a little better than regular lullabies. Like most babies her age, she likes car rides and being in the stroller will calm her down pretty quickly.
Annalise will be a month old next week. We have some milestones coming with that - first shots, first time spending a few hours with grandma instead of mommy. I am okay with these things, because every milestone we reach is a small victory. Proof that this is really happening, proof that we're doing something right even when everything feels odd and hard and impossible (proof that yes, one day, I will get to sleep in my bed for more than 15 minutes at a stretch). Still, a month. How on earth did that time pass?
Our daughter Annalise Ruth was born on January 3, 2012 at 8:52pm, coming in at 7lbs 7oz and 21 inches.
I've gotten a lot of questions about her name. I knew that if we had a girl, I would want a somewhat Scandinavian-sounding name, and something that doesn't pop up on popular name lists. It took a little while, but Randy and I both liked Annalise. The question of a middle name was harder. We had a tentative agreement on one, but at the hospital as we were walking down to Room 3 from the registration desk, we had a mutual change of heart. You see, it was kind of funny to us, room 3 and it being January 3. This was at 2 in the afternoon - neither of us were sure that she would actually arrive on the 3rd, but if she did, well, Babe Ruth wore number 3 for the Yankees. And my mom was a huge Yankees fan. Wouldn't Ruth make a good middle name? Later, once I had an epidural and could carry on a conversation, we made it official.
"Annalise" is a modern spelling for the German/Scandinavian name "Anneliese" and it means "grace" or "graceful light." "Ruth" is Hebrew in origin and means "friend." I'm also particularly fond of the story of Ruth in the Bible.
So far, our baby girl is thriving. She likes to be held, but she's not fond of being swaddled and she pushes hats off her head or squirms out of them if she's lying down. She recognizes Daddy's voice when he comes home in the evening. She seems to like men's voices in general - if there is a man speaking on the radio or television and she's alert, she'll turn her head toward the source of the sound. She likes Christmas music a little better than regular lullabies. Like most babies her age, she likes car rides and being in the stroller will calm her down pretty quickly.
Annalise will be a month old next week. We have some milestones coming with that - first shots, first time spending a few hours with grandma instead of mommy. I am okay with these things, because every milestone we reach is a small victory. Proof that this is really happening, proof that we're doing something right even when everything feels odd and hard and impossible (proof that yes, one day, I will get to sleep in my bed for more than 15 minutes at a stretch). Still, a month. How on earth did that time pass?
Thursday, August 18, 2011
kicking
Sunday morning, I woke up rather earlier than I usually do. I'm not a morning person. I hate the feeling of coming out of a cocoon, of giving up on the imagined world in my dreams. I've never liked the groggy, painful feeling of opening my eyes to light. All I want is to burrow back under the covers, every day.
But Sunday was different. At nearly 20 weeks, I have to get up to go to the bathroom whether my eyes are adjusted to the light or not. I would usually fall back asleep, except on Sunday, I just wasn't able to. I laid there on my back, watching the fan and listening to morning sounds I never hear (husband breathing, dog getting up, the morning birds in the backyard). The soundtrack, really, for the kicking.
Who knows - baby might have been "fluttering," dancing, waking up on his or her own and stretching. This was just the first time I felt any of that. It was a breathtaking experience.
This whole week, I've been able to feel the baby move, and for the first time, I feel real excitement over meeting my little one. I actually *feel* pregnant, too, and more so because this week also marks the first time I've had to wear a BeBand or my maternity shorts consistently. I'm officially "showing" (though I admit, it chafes a little when people tell me so - another post for another time, perhaps).
I understand the kicking, or whatever my little one is up to, because for me it represents emotions that are familiar; kicking, stretching, just moving around are all things I associate with a need to break free. A restlessness has begun. Senioritis, you might say, a little early. Baby wants to really stretch, though baby could not articulate it. The halfway mark is important because it indicates that you're halfway to the end. Appropriate that it would be now that baby is moving so much that I can tell.
--
No update on Mom tonight. Dad called yesterday to let me know that she's had some "episodes" and that her systolic blood pressure is virtually undetectable. We are counting hours, again. She is ready to move on - and who can blame her, trapped in a body that has long since abandoned its function.
But Sunday was different. At nearly 20 weeks, I have to get up to go to the bathroom whether my eyes are adjusted to the light or not. I would usually fall back asleep, except on Sunday, I just wasn't able to. I laid there on my back, watching the fan and listening to morning sounds I never hear (husband breathing, dog getting up, the morning birds in the backyard). The soundtrack, really, for the kicking.
Who knows - baby might have been "fluttering," dancing, waking up on his or her own and stretching. This was just the first time I felt any of that. It was a breathtaking experience.
This whole week, I've been able to feel the baby move, and for the first time, I feel real excitement over meeting my little one. I actually *feel* pregnant, too, and more so because this week also marks the first time I've had to wear a BeBand or my maternity shorts consistently. I'm officially "showing" (though I admit, it chafes a little when people tell me so - another post for another time, perhaps).
I understand the kicking, or whatever my little one is up to, because for me it represents emotions that are familiar; kicking, stretching, just moving around are all things I associate with a need to break free. A restlessness has begun. Senioritis, you might say, a little early. Baby wants to really stretch, though baby could not articulate it. The halfway mark is important because it indicates that you're halfway to the end. Appropriate that it would be now that baby is moving so much that I can tell.
--
No update on Mom tonight. Dad called yesterday to let me know that she's had some "episodes" and that her systolic blood pressure is virtually undetectable. We are counting hours, again. She is ready to move on - and who can blame her, trapped in a body that has long since abandoned its function.
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