A Babies Diary

Dear Diary,

I just had to write and tell you about the most horrible experience I’ve ever had in my life (granted, I’ve only been here for a month, but still…it was awful).

This morning, about 1:45 or so, I woke up and was terribly hungry.  It was pitch dark in the room, so I was pretty sure the big people didn’t know it was time for First Breakfast.  As usual, I decided to make a little bit of noise to help them get me what I wanted.  A few seconds into my cat-waulering, I heard movement in the room.  I figured my troubles would soon be over.

Imagine my surprise when the closet light came on and an Ogre was standing over my basinet!  Even though it gently picked me up, I was terrified.  Large puffy eyes stared apathetically at me, as it hoisted me toward its face.  It had wild hair that shot in all directions, and breath bad enough to wilt the flowers on my little pink pajamas.  I just knew it was going to eat me, but instead, it merely grunted in some strange language and headed for the bedroom door.  If I didn’t know better, I would have swore that it sounded like my dad, but I couldn’t deny what my eyes were telling me.

Had the tale ended here, it would hardly be worth telling, but there’s more.  The ogre held me close to its chest and stalked into the nursery. After laying me on the changing table, it unwrapped my comfy blanket and started pulling my warm, snuggly pjs off.  It left me there in the cold morning air!  This made me mad.  Instead of yelling out in fear, I cursed him with every single baby curse I knew (I’m going to have to learn few more of those).  In the end, this turned out not so well for me, cause after that, he pulled off my diaper and grabbed the cold wipes.  Let me tell you, if I had thought the air was chilly before, I had a different opinion now.

To add insult to injury, he got one of those cotton balls, dipped it in alcohol, and started rubbing it on my belly button.  At this point, I’d had more than I could take.  I started yelling for mama.

After a while, it worked.  Apparently the ogre feared my mother’s reprisal, cause he dressed me, wrapped me up in my blanket, and handed me to mama.  I don’t know where he disappeared to, after that, but good riddance!

I hope this never happens again, but next time it does, I’ll know exactly what to do.  Scream for mama until she comes and gets me.

-Haven Thomas ♥♥

I Wonder

Something about this time of year is almost magical.  One morning you wake up, and the oppressive summer heat has been changed to a slight chill.  Sometimes, in the early morning, when the sun is overtaking the last twinkling stars, you can still see the moon shining proudly down from the clear blue sky.  Often times, it stirs a bit of wonder in me.

I think about space, about the position of the planets, the speed at which we’re moving, the size of our earth, the distance of the moon, and the speed of our rotation.  Did you know that if any of these factors were off by a small margin, our planet would no longer support life?  Say what you will about a big bang, but as an engineer, I’ve never come across a system so complex that didn’t have a designer.

For thousands and thousands of years, people have looked up at the same moon that I look up at.  It’s amazing to me that people thousands of miles away can still see the same moon that I look at, on account of its distance from the earth.  Sometimes it looks like you could almost touch it, yet the fastest trip any human has ever made to it took over 3 days.

There’s something special about these brief moments of wonder and clarity.  I’ve noticed that as an adult they are far fewer in number and frequency.  My children have them far more often than I do, and it takes much less to induce them.  With Griffin, it merely took driving by a line of semi trucks to render him wide-eyed and awestruck.  With Gage, driving by a moving train will have him fighting to get out of his seat.  You can see it on their little faces on Christmas morning or on vacation at a water park.

I miss having that kind of wonder and excitement.  Do we become too busy as adults to marvel at our surroundings?  Do we become so overwhelmed by the day to day demands that we don’t even see the little things that could brighten our day?

I wonder.

Who's Your Daddy?

A bit of strangeness has started happening around our house over this last week.  Gage, the newly minted 3 year old, has suddenly switched from calling us Mommy and Daddy to calling us Mom and Dad.

He wasn’t timid or tentative about it, either.  He jumped right in and never looked back, even though our five year old tried many times to correct him.

The first time it happened, it just struck my ears as being wrong.  Part of me sat there waiting for that final ‘E’ sound so that I knew the sentence was over.  It never came.  It was quite a surprise.  I don’t know what I was expecting; after all, very few people move into their adult life and still call their parents ‘Mommy’ and ‘Daddy’.  I should have known it was eventually going to happen.  I suppose I thought that Griffin would come home from school one day and be “too cool” to call his parents by their usual moniker and switch to ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’.  Then, little brother would pick up on the trend and follow suit.

I have absolutely no idea what caused it.  Did he hear it on a TV show?  Did one of his friends at Mother’s Day Out do it?  Did he listen to what Tamara and I call our parents and try to emulate us?  It could be any or none of those things.  Maybe he just wanted to be unique.

One thing’s for sure, he’s our little independent boy, and he blazed the trail into this new stage.  And if I’m being totally honest, I kind of like it!  It makes me smile when I hear such a little boy address me in such a “grown up” way.

Griffin, for his part, still calls us Mommy and Daddy, and I like that too. 

Haven…she just kind of screeches at us, but we’ll work through that.

We're Wasting Our Money

We’re wasting our money, and the advertising agencies are entirely to blame (that is, if you overlook personal responsibility on our part).  I’m talking about games and toys.  With Christmas season on the way, we’re seeing advertising flyers, store displays, and TV commercials ramping up a notch or three.

The proof of this concept is not hard to find, and I believe you’ll agree with me after a little bit of observation.  Let’s start out with small children, ages 0 to 3.  On a chilly Christmas morning, when they gleefully tear into the brightly wrapped packages, what is it that they most often end up playing with?  In my experience, it’s the bow on the top of the gift and the box that the present came in.  Maybe not immediately, but after everything has been unwrapped and pushed to the side, they delight in running through the wrapping paper scraps and hiding in the boxes.

As they get older, we spend countless dollars on outdoor play equipment and toys.  Yet, if you go out back and watch my two boys at play, you’ll notice that a stick (yes, from the tree) is their toy of choice.  They will fish with it, throw it, sword fight with it, fly it, or shoot at each other with it.  A second favorite is the water hose.  It doesn’t even have to be hooked up!  It’s a telephone, a snake, and a fire hose all wrapped up in one.

Aside from these special toys, they also like to collect and sort things.  Rocks from our flower beds line the windowsill and patio.  Sweet gum balls and Wall-wuts (Walnuts), are among their favorites to gather at their grandparents house.  If you’re keeping a tally on these incredible outdoor playthings, you’ll notice that we’re all the way up to…um… zero dollars.

I’ve been thinking about this for a while, but it was underscored once again at the Fall Festival our church held this past Sunday.  We spent a lot of time and money getting a bounce-around, games, and prizes all ready for Halloween night.  The kids enjoyed it, that’s for sure, but after the festivities were technically over, the kids kept going.  They went outside and took turns rolling down the hill behind the youth building.  The comment was made that we could have bypassed a lot of work if we’d have just put a big vat of candy at the bottom and told them to pick up a piece each time they rolled down.

It leaves me to wonder, is there a set of parents out there brave enough to throw off the chains of the Madison Avenue marketing magnates?  Give your child that empty box they want, and don’t make them pull some shiny plastic thing out of the way to get in it!  Let them swim through a sea of crumpled wrapping paper sporting a bow for a crown.  If you really must put some effort into it, carve them a special stick from a tree in the back yard.

I don’t suppose there’s anyone that will take me up on this challenge, but if there is, I’d sure like to hear how it turns out.

She Who Rules The House

I forgot how completely a new baby takes over a household.  We had become so accustomed to bending the children to our will that it’s a little unsettling to be in the other seat.  Instead of running on a tight schedule, getting things done in a timely manner, we run on “baby time”.  That basically means things get accomplished when it is most convenient for the baby.

If you are thinking about having a child in the near future, here are some simple rules to help you get accustomed to “baby time”:

1)       The house is not awake until the baby is awake.  For those of us older than three weeks, that means talking in whispers and tip-toeing through darkened rooms at our own peril.  Normally, it’s a non-issue since we sleep every chance we get.  That’s also indirectly caused by the baby.

2)       If the baby is awake, the rest of the house will be shortly.  There’s a little bit of wiggle room here, depending on where your baby sleeps at and where your other children sleep.  Also, your baby’s temperament comes into play.  If you have a little angel that goos and coos as they greet the morning light, they’re less likely to wake others.  But, if your baby is like ours and screeches like a harpy from the moment she wakes up until the moment she’s fed, you can bet that it’s going to rouse a few sleepy heads.

3)       You will not be on time for anything.  Throw your scheduler out the window.  Don’t think it’s as easy as getting up a little earlier.  The baby has a handful of delay tactics to help her parents remember who’s really in charge of the time table:

a)       Hunger (i.e. You will feed me before we go anywhere, or I will scream the whole trip)

b)      Dirty Diaper (i.e. You will take me back out of this carseat and change me, or I will scream the whole trip)

c)       Spit-up (i.e. I don’t really care for the color of this outfit, therefore I will ruin it and you will change me)

4)       When baby takes a nap, noisy activities must cease.  Your daily work schedule is reordered on the basis of when the baby decides it’s time for a nap.  No vacuuming, lawnmowing, or sandblasting is allowed while the child is snoozing.  Even the older kids’ play activities are limited during this time.  No noisy games, WWE wrestling moves, or loud TV shows until little sister wakes up.

5)       Adult bedtime is correlated with the last feeding of the night.  It doesn’t matter if you want to go to sleep at 6 p.m., if the baby hasn’t hit her night schedule yet, there’s no point.  When you get the baby to lie still, close her eyes, and go to sleep, it’s finally alright to start getting ready for bed.  In my experience, this is about an hour after you would normally hit the sack.

6)       Once the baby is in bed, you will move about the house like a ninja.  During those first thirty minutes of sleep, every act of precaution must be taken to ensure that you don’t rouse her.  Even how you slip into bed changes, as you work to make as little noise as possible.  Every creak, thump, or pop runs the risk of starting the whole bedding down process over.

7)       You will sleep for however long the baby deems necessary.  It really doesn’t matter what time it is, or how tired, or sick, or grumpy you are, when the baby decides it’s time for a snack you will be woken up.  And if you retain any hope of getting back to sleep, you will take care of the baby’s needs.

These are a few of the basic rules of how “baby time” runs.  I hope its comprehensive enough to give you an idea of what to expect, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I’ve left out a few details here or there.  I’m really quite tired and can’t be bothered to put much more effort into it.

The Phantom Train

Is it possible for demons to possess toys?  This is a question I found myself pondering last night as a peculiar situation unfolded.

Gage’s third birthday party was held this last weekend, and one of the toys he received was a blue remote control train.  It’s got four buttons on it which allows the small engine to make a great deal of noise.  The remote itself has a couple of buttons, one for forward motion and one for a reverse turning motion.  The boys love it!  It’s a bundle of loudness all wrapped up in a pretty blue shell.  Thanks, Aunt Charlotte.

The problem occurred last night, about two hours after the boys had gone to bed.  I was in our bedroom working on the computer, when I heard the train whistling and making chugging noises.  I immediately got up and prepared to bring the wrath down on Gage for getting out of bed and playing with his toys (we never have this problem with Griffin).  When I opened the door, I saw the train sitting over by the dresser, making a huge ruckus, with the remote right next to it.  My boys were both in bed, sound asleep.

I grabbed the engine and took it out into the hallway, making sure to flip the switch to the off position.  I was a little surprised when it just kept going, even though it should have been powered down.  Something or someone was causing this toy to behave in a most unsettling way.  I didn’t quite know what to do with it at this point.  I couldn’t put it back in their room, and I didn’t want it in ours.  As light as I sleep, if that thing went off at the foot of our bed, they’d have to untangle my body from the ceiling fan in the morning.  The only clear solution was to store it in a closet at the other end of the house…with a Bible on top of it.

Maybe you’ve had the same thing happen in your house.  A song spontaneously emits from some small plastic plaything, or a doll whispers “I love you” as it vacantly watches you pass by.  Could demons really be responsible for such a thing?  Meh, probably not.  These are tell-tale signs that you’re up for a battery change.

Funny things can happen in these playthings when the power level barely hovers around what’s necessary for them to function.  In the train’s case, I was particularly impressed at how the manufacturer only installed two of the four needed batteries.  These two were solely responsible for running the DEMO portion of the circuitry.  When I was filling up the batteries on the train and remote, I neglected to change the two that came with it, since they were still working.  In about 24 hours time my boys managed to drain them to the point where it started acting a little funny.

So, let this be a lesson to you.  Unless you live over an ancient Indian burial ground, give the batteries a check.  Four double AAs are a lot cheaper than the going price on a professional exorcist.

Need More Sleep

I wholeheartedly believe there is a Divine Conspiracy afoot when it comes to issues and circumstances involving the birth of a child.  I think that God floods the brain with a memory erasing chemical that wipes out the pain and negative aspects of the whole process, so that years later you find yourself saying, “Yeah, we should have another kid.”  Were this not the case, I believe each couple would have one child, look at each other, and say, “We’re never doing that again!”

For the woman’s part, it’s not all that hard to see how much pain they experience up to and during the birth.  Why do you think they make those hospital doors out of 8 inch thick hardwood?  You could set off a hand grenade in the delivery room and never hear it out in the hallways!  I’ve been told that the pain experienced by a male passing a kidney stone is similar to that of a female giving birth.  I wouldn’t know if that’s true or not, because I’ve never done either.  What I will tell you, though, is that you’ll never see a male two years down the road say, “I think I’ll go out and get me another one of those kidney stones.  I haven’t had one of those in a while.”

The only logical solution here is that even though the pain is intense enough to measure on the richter scale, it is somehow blocked from making a permanent impression on the brain.  I don’t think it’s tied only to the birth or even to just the woman.  I believe it extends through the entire adjustment period and to both parents.

We’ve lost a lot of sleep.  My wife has lost more than I have (I’m legally bound to say that, or she’ll be all like “You don’t even know what it is to lose sleep!  You just get up and change the baby then go back to bed…”).  The sleep loss starts to have a sort of bipolar effect on you after a while.  You get tired enough, and you’ll swing between railing about the way the towels are folded, to uncontrollable giggling fits about silly words like ‘Hoboken’.  The longer the sleep deprivation goes on, the more severe the effects become.  Everything starts to get on your nerves, from how loud the kids are breathing to how the dog keeps eyeing your peanut butter sandwich.

Eventually, the child does sleep through the night, you get some good rest, and everyone starts to get adjusted to the new norm around the house.  Somehow, memories of those stressed and strained times just simply fade away.  You remember that it was rough, but none of the gory details about how rough it really was.

To be fair, there is an alternative to the whole “mind erasing” theory.  It would be that the rewards of a precious new little life so outweighs the struggles that they simply pale in comparison.  But that’s just silly.  A Divine Conspiracy is so much cooler to think about.