Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
Flying babies
Riley had her first airplane ride last weekend to visit the crew in SC. She was a perfect passenger. Not a peep out of her the entire time. In fact, she fell asleep in TJ's arms during takeoff. So, in terms of her aviation career, does that make her a natural...or mean that it's not the right profession? She had lots of admirers, as usual, and I wanted to stand in the breezeway and collect tips because she took it so easy on the other passengers' ears. I tried to get her a pair of stick on pilot's wings like they used to give out to kids, but alas, the stewards and stewardesses didn't have any or know what happened to the supply. Darn recession.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Ferberization
To Ferberize...that's like to Winterize, right?
Something designed to protect your baby from the harsh elements???
Hmmm. Not exactly. It's a catchy little phrase I'd heard once or twice before watching a hilarious recent episode of the sitcom Modern Family. It piqued my interest -- especially since TJ and I have been discussing for a while now how Riley is about to "Hulk" herself out of the velcro sleep swaddle and the nagging notion that the binky may cause orthodontic problems down the road. Those issues, coupled with the fact that the word "Ferberization" is just so fun to say, convinced us to do what any good parents would do...refuse to leave well enough alone.
To Ferberize actually means to "teach" your baby the finer points of crying herself to sleep. It involves...wait for it...letting her cry herself to sleep. Complicated, I know.
Okay, to be fair, there's actually a recommended methodology that introduces a number of crying intervals interrupted by the parents' brief, soothing presence. The problem with the interval training is the fact that our unrestricted sleeping baby is too friggin' hilarious. The first time we went to check on Riley after about 20 minutes of crying, she was borderline asleep, with arms and legs splayed out, blankets up over her head. We both started cracking up, which of course woke her up and pissed her off. Lesson learned. You must be very quiet when entertaining yourself at your Ferber-fledgling's expense.
So far, we've seen the following poses: both arms out to the sides, one arm straight up and the other in a bicep muscle pose, arms and blankets up over the head, soft giraffe stuffy over the eyes and both arms over the face. Must give her credit though...she's sleeping through the night just like before. Now we're just waiting to see how long it takes before we walk in and find her sleeping standing on her head. I managed to capture a photo of the Ferberization hibernation. She flinched, but didn't wake up. A+ for my stealth like photography skills.
Something designed to protect your baby from the harsh elements???
Hmmm. Not exactly. It's a catchy little phrase I'd heard once or twice before watching a hilarious recent episode of the sitcom Modern Family. It piqued my interest -- especially since TJ and I have been discussing for a while now how Riley is about to "Hulk" herself out of the velcro sleep swaddle and the nagging notion that the binky may cause orthodontic problems down the road. Those issues, coupled with the fact that the word "Ferberization" is just so fun to say, convinced us to do what any good parents would do...refuse to leave well enough alone.
To Ferberize actually means to "teach" your baby the finer points of crying herself to sleep. It involves...wait for it...letting her cry herself to sleep. Complicated, I know.
Okay, to be fair, there's actually a recommended methodology that introduces a number of crying intervals interrupted by the parents' brief, soothing presence. The problem with the interval training is the fact that our unrestricted sleeping baby is too friggin' hilarious. The first time we went to check on Riley after about 20 minutes of crying, she was borderline asleep, with arms and legs splayed out, blankets up over her head. We both started cracking up, which of course woke her up and pissed her off. Lesson learned. You must be very quiet when entertaining yourself at your Ferber-fledgling's expense.
So far, we've seen the following poses: both arms out to the sides, one arm straight up and the other in a bicep muscle pose, arms and blankets up over the head, soft giraffe stuffy over the eyes and both arms over the face. Must give her credit though...she's sleeping through the night just like before. Now we're just waiting to see how long it takes before we walk in and find her sleeping standing on her head. I managed to capture a photo of the Ferberization hibernation. She flinched, but didn't wake up. A+ for my stealth like photography skills.
Friday, January 8, 2010
6 Month Checkup
Riley had her 6 month checkup today. Where has the time gone? It would have been 6 months to the day, but yesterday's appointment was canceled due to the weather (about 6 inches of fresh snow). Stats: 25 3/4 inches long and 14lbs 13 oz. BMI in the 90th percentile. The doctor said she looks great and is meeting all of the normal 6 month milestones. She charmed everyone in the peds office, garnering at least a half dozen "she's so beautiful"s. She also captured everyone's attention as we walked around the clinic. At immunizations, the technician was very fast with the two needles...one in each thigh. She cried for about 30 seconds and that was that...tough girl. She was enthralled with all of the people in camouflage uniforms and sat on Dad's lap like a gem the entire time. Here are some recent photos of our beautiful girl.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Riley's first Christmas
Compliments of our move from South Dakota, we brought the area's first White Christmas in many years. Christmas Eve started off with rain and sleet, making travel conditions treacherous. We decided to brave the elements to attend an evening candlelight service at a local Methodist Church. It was a community effort involving pastors and congregation members from six local churches. It was tranquil and lovely. Riley wore Christmas outfit number one, prompting two recurring comments: 1) "AWWWWWW!" and 2)"I wish they made outfits like that in adult sizes."
Christmas morning, we awoke to a nice dusting of snow and lots of presents for Riley under the tree. Santa must have had a harried a delivery night because along with the cookies and carrots (for the reindeer), he also pilfered some Tylenol and left the bottle next to the empty treat plate. Watching a six-month-old "open" presents involves quickly realizing that the true joy is in the bows (yummy blue bow) and wrapping paper, not the gifts. (Adorable raspberry hat was one of the best surprises under the tree -- a gift from old neighbors in Rapid City).
We had plans to host dinner for 10 at our house Christmas afternoon, and for a while it looked like we might be celebrating alone because of the slippery road conditions. The backup plan to tackle the 27 lbs of turkey defrosting in the fridge involved seating Bauer at the dinner table to see how much he could polish off in a quasi-civilized manner. Luckily, the ongoing flurries made for slow travel, as opposed to no travel, and all of our guests arrived; thus thwarting Bauer's chances to hone his fine dining etiquette skills. It was a wonderful evening with friends, family and food, and after the last guests departed late into the night, TJ and I stayed up covering leftovers, washing dishes, rearranging the furniture and eating more dessert. It was 3 a.m. before I finally hit the hay. Note to self: Riley does not care if Mom stays up until 3 a.m.
Next day.
Train wreck.
But overall, a holiday filled with lots of nice memories of a first Christmas with the greatest gift I've ever received.
Christmas morning, we awoke to a nice dusting of snow and lots of presents for Riley under the tree. Santa must have had a harried a delivery night because along with the cookies and carrots (for the reindeer), he also pilfered some Tylenol and left the bottle next to the empty treat plate. Watching a six-month-old "open" presents involves quickly realizing that the true joy is in the bows (yummy blue bow) and wrapping paper, not the gifts. (Adorable raspberry hat was one of the best surprises under the tree -- a gift from old neighbors in Rapid City).
We had plans to host dinner for 10 at our house Christmas afternoon, and for a while it looked like we might be celebrating alone because of the slippery road conditions. The backup plan to tackle the 27 lbs of turkey defrosting in the fridge involved seating Bauer at the dinner table to see how much he could polish off in a quasi-civilized manner. Luckily, the ongoing flurries made for slow travel, as opposed to no travel, and all of our guests arrived; thus thwarting Bauer's chances to hone his fine dining etiquette skills. It was a wonderful evening with friends, family and food, and after the last guests departed late into the night, TJ and I stayed up covering leftovers, washing dishes, rearranging the furniture and eating more dessert. It was 3 a.m. before I finally hit the hay. Note to self: Riley does not care if Mom stays up until 3 a.m.
Next day.
Train wreck.
But overall, a holiday filled with lots of nice memories of a first Christmas with the greatest gift I've ever received.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
My first and last trip to ALDI
If you've never actually been in, ALDI is that store you've driven by a dozen times with the logo that makes you think it's some other kind of store than it actually is. In my mind, I've always imagined it a knock off brand shoe store, like Payless, since it sounds so much like Aldo, a mall shoe store. After learning that Uncle Bob patronizes the local ALDI in Pittsburgh, and describes it as a "strange assortment of things, some of which are fantastic and some of which are crap...but the coffee is worth it"...I was intrigued and decided to investigate.
When we arrived, I left Riley in the car with TJ and started to head inside. I saw the train of carts outside and an older woman walking from the parking lot to return her cart. I made eye contact with her and smiled. I waited for her to do the same. You know, the socially accepted standard norms of the parking lot cart exchange. She faintly smiled back, but kept moving purposefully toward the chain of carts. I decided to take a more obvious approach. I said, "I'll take that in for you," and reached out for the cart. Still, she seemed oddly determined to return the cart all the way to the cart corral. Well, at this point, I figured I'd made all the routine pleasantries and it was simply time to grab the cart. When I took possession, her expression changed and she said: "Are you going to give me my quarter?" Oh, okay, so that was it. She wanted to have a little exchange and attempt to make a joke. Old people are so cute. So I feigned a hearty "Ha, Ha, Ha" to make her feel good and let her know I got the joke. You know..."Sure lady, here's your quarter for the valet service from the parking lot to my hands." Then, I promptly walked away. Imagine my surprise, when three steps into the store I notice a little silver circle the size of a quarter sticking out of a funny contraption attached to the cart. Holy crap. She really meant "Are you going to give me my quarter!"
I started to turn around when the lady behind me belted out a no nonsense "SKEWS ME" to clarify the fact that if I kept her from her off brand products one second longer she was going to hurt me. Mortified that I'd stolen coin from a sweet old lady who really wanted her twenty five cents back, I thanked heavens that at least Riley was still in the car. The only thing worse than stealing money from a helpless old lady is doing it with your child as an accomplice. Okay, well actually the only thing worse than stealing from an old lady is doing so, then paying for your hummus, cottage cheese and dog treats, then accidentally almost walking out of the store with a canister of Pringles wedged in the side of the cart -- prompting the cashier to point it out and say "WAIT...are those yours...I can see I'll have to keep my eye on you." Get me out of this store now. Pay for Pringles, smile at patrons behind you in line who are annoyed that you must now conduct a second transaction, leave ALDI and never, ever return.
When we arrived, I left Riley in the car with TJ and started to head inside. I saw the train of carts outside and an older woman walking from the parking lot to return her cart. I made eye contact with her and smiled. I waited for her to do the same. You know, the socially accepted standard norms of the parking lot cart exchange. She faintly smiled back, but kept moving purposefully toward the chain of carts. I decided to take a more obvious approach. I said, "I'll take that in for you," and reached out for the cart. Still, she seemed oddly determined to return the cart all the way to the cart corral. Well, at this point, I figured I'd made all the routine pleasantries and it was simply time to grab the cart. When I took possession, her expression changed and she said: "Are you going to give me my quarter?" Oh, okay, so that was it. She wanted to have a little exchange and attempt to make a joke. Old people are so cute. So I feigned a hearty "Ha, Ha, Ha" to make her feel good and let her know I got the joke. You know..."Sure lady, here's your quarter for the valet service from the parking lot to my hands." Then, I promptly walked away. Imagine my surprise, when three steps into the store I notice a little silver circle the size of a quarter sticking out of a funny contraption attached to the cart. Holy crap. She really meant "Are you going to give me my quarter!"
I started to turn around when the lady behind me belted out a no nonsense "SKEWS ME" to clarify the fact that if I kept her from her off brand products one second longer she was going to hurt me. Mortified that I'd stolen coin from a sweet old lady who really wanted her twenty five cents back, I thanked heavens that at least Riley was still in the car. The only thing worse than stealing money from a helpless old lady is doing it with your child as an accomplice. Okay, well actually the only thing worse than stealing from an old lady is doing so, then paying for your hummus, cottage cheese and dog treats, then accidentally almost walking out of the store with a canister of Pringles wedged in the side of the cart -- prompting the cashier to point it out and say "WAIT...are those yours...I can see I'll have to keep my eye on you." Get me out of this store now. Pay for Pringles, smile at patrons behind you in line who are annoyed that you must now conduct a second transaction, leave ALDI and never, ever return.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)