Happy Halloween!

Halloween costume #1, the "fairy princess":


This is a picture of Reilly at her daycare, where they had a Halloween party today. Isn't she just so sweeeet? Awww. Too bad that our little fairy princess was more of a devil in disguise. When Reilly started tearing off her wings, Shawn switched her to the "Bucs Cheerleader" costume. Rah!

Overall, Halloween was a great success. Reilly did a few trick-or-treats at our house and once at Merrideth's house, where we went for a little Halloween party. When other kids came to the door, Reilly would greet them with her basket outstretched, not quite understanding that when you are inside, you give the treats, whereas when you are outside, you get the treats.

Click, Click

Motherhood, in two frames:

Week 68 Pictures

Here is this week's installment of Reilly's photos. Click here to see her wandering the pumpkin patch, dusting the house, and meeting a dog three times her size. Meanwhile, your picture of the week:

Sicky-wicky

In the life of every car, there is a moment where the car goes from being a “new” car to a used car. At that moment, you can actually hear the sucking sound of wind as the car begins its rapid descent of depreciation.

The moment is different for every car—it could be your first door ding, or the first chip on your bumper as the gravel truck in front of you rains down tiny rocks on your car.

The moment my car lost its newness was this morning, when Reilly projectile vomited curdled milk all over the backseat of our car. Friends of the internet, I wish that I could properly describe the smell that is now imbedded in the upholstery of the Camry. It is foul.

Many of you are probably thinking, but what about poor Reilly? Who cares about the stupid car when wonderful baby-waby Reilly is sicky-wicky? I’ll have you know that I did not panic or curse when Reilly barfed in the backseat, but rather calmly removed her from the car, soothing her all the way back to the house, where I handed her off to grandma while I quickly returned to the car with towel in hand.

The worst part, and the part I feel truly bad about, was that I had to put her back in the car seat that she had just thrown up in. Yes, I put down a towel, and no, she did not get any additional barf on her. But the stench of the car was almost enough to make my eyes tear up, and I imagine it’s not pleasant to be sitting on the source of that smell.

Ah, the joys of being a parent. There’s just nothing like it.

Stall Tactics

Two nights ago, I checked the clock in the kitchen and noted that it was 7:30pm. Bedtime for baby. I walked into the living room where Reilly was playing and told her that it was time to go to bed. She looked at me, then went over and picked up a book and gave it to Shawn. Shawn laughed and said, "She's got her stall tactics down already."

Last night when I walked into the living room, Reilly was reading her book Five Little Pumpkins with her grandpa. I waited until they were done with the book, and then told Reilly that it was time to go to bed. She looked at me, then quickly turned away and snuggled into her grandpa's chest, trying to evade me once again.

As I type this, Reilly is behind me sipping on her bottle, watching The Big Comfy Couch. In just a moment, I am going to tell her that it is bedtime. I can't wait to see what she tries this time...

The Great Pumpkin

Yesterday, we went to the local pumpkin patch to seek out the Great Pumpkin. Despite the excessive heat, we were able to pretend it was fall long enough for Reilly look for and settle on the perfect specimen shown below. (The Great Pumpkin purchase came to total of $7.00. )

When we arrived home, we took the Great Pumpkin out back, along with some newspaper, a knife, a crayon, and a spoon. I took care of carving a hole in the top of the pumpkin, then played photojournalist while Reilly and Shawn cleaned out the inside of the Great Pumpkin and then carved it.*

*Reilly wasn't too keen on sticking her arm into the slimy pumpkin, but she did enjoy picking up the seeds and dropping them into the bowl (for dad to toast later).

Later that evening, just before it was time for Reilly to go to bed, we turned off all the lights and lit up the pumpkin. Reilly sat very still and concentrated on the face staring back at her. She kept her eyes fixed on it until we turned the lights back on. Reilly smiled up at us, and the three of us enjoyed one of those Family Moments.

If you're wondering who carved suck an awesome pumpkin, all credit goes to Shawn.

5 Things I Hate about Reilly's new Daycare

1) As some of you might remember, Reilly had a very difficult transition from breastfeeding to the bottle. The same is holding true in her transition from the bottle to the sippy cup. As I mentioned here, it's just not happening.

The first day of daycare, we brought in Reilly's food and her bottles. "Oh no," the director said, upon seeing the bottles. "It's against Pinellas County regulations for us to feed her from a bottle. She'll have to use a sippy cup." Though I tried to explain to her that Reilly would simply not drink milk from a sippy, she wouldn't give in. So, every day, Reilly has no milk between the times of 7:30am and 5:30pm (by her own choice). Consequently, she has sprouted devil horns by the time I come to pick her up. I just don't understand what the big deal is about the bottle. The way I look at it, it's just a vessel that dispenses milk, just like a sippy cup.

2) The hours at the daycare are 7:30am to 5:30pm. The morning hours are fine. What I am having a hard time with is the 5:30pm pick-up time. 5:30? What kind of working professional can make that pick-up time? I have to leave work at 4:30pm every day to ensure that I am not going to be late, and lo!-- should I be late, they'll charge me $3 for every minute after 5:30pm.

So, every day I leave work in a hurry, and spaz out in traffic worrying about being late, and honestly, after a long day at work, who needs that kind of stress?

3) The teachers don't love Reilly. One might say, well, it is not the teacher's job to love Reilly. I agree. But Jenya--Reilly's old primary caregiver from The City--loved Reilly. She had nicknames for Reilly, she hugged her, she encouraged her to walk, she gave her all of the loving attention of a parent.

I remember there were times that I was afraid that Jenya's affections would sway Reilly to her so much that our daughter wouldn't have any love left for her real parents. Now, I wish I had that problem.

4) Last week, Reilly was sick, and she got some wicked bad diaper rash. When I brought in some diaper cream for her, the director said that they couldn't apply it. When I asked what the issue was, she again said that it was against the Pinellas County daycare regulations. The fact that she said this really, seriously pissed me off, mostly because I thought the woman was lying to me, and that she uses the whole Pinellas County regulations excuse every time she doesn't feel like doing something. I had a few words with her and stormed out of the daycare, leaving my poor, chapped ass baby there to be miserable all day.

5) Every afternoon, when I go to getReilly, she is always the last to be picked up, or the second-to-last to be picked up. (See #2 above for the reason.) One day, I picked Reilly up early, and noticed how when I opened the door to the classroom, all the kids run to the door to see whose parent is there. The lucky kids gets swooped up by the parent, and the rest mope back to their seats to wait. This was a difficult realization for me--to know that Reilly runs to the door nine times every afternoon, looking for her dad, only to be disappointed.

I hate that she gets picked up last. And I hate this daycare. HATE.

Week 67 Pictures

Click here to view another round of RGO cuteness. Your picture of the week:

Blog Burnout

It has been hard to get to the old blog lately, what with having a new job and a long commute and a few dozen other excuses. Another reason for my lack of posting is what I term “Blog Burnout.” Blog Burnout is a condition that affects writers such as myself, who at some point decide that their blog is boring and stale and really, what is the point of all this writing and sharing?

I’ve also been struggling with the fact that my very public blog hampers my ability to put into words exactly what I am thinking. I used to take pride in the fact that I rarely use curse words on this site, but now I find it to be a bit of a cop out. It’s this self-censoring that really gets to me, and in the end, it feels dishonest when I hold back.

I’ve always admired Amy Storch—of Amalah.com—for being brutally honest and never censoring what she thinks or feels. I think it is that freedom of speech (and her obvious talent) that makes her blog so incredibly successful. When she quit her job several months ago to focus on her writing, I was surprised, and a part of me worried for her, but I think now that move only served to free her up for more honesty. Without having to worry about being dooced from her job for her opinions, she is now able to channel more of her true self through her blog.

(What is ironic is that Amy recently went through a pretty severe case of Blog Burnout, but was able to recover from it by stoking her creativity by creating a new blog.)

Well. With all that said, where does it leave me? Two-thirds of the way through a new entry, ha, ha, ha.

The other third of this entry will come in the form of a little story:

As I mentioned previously, Reilly had three shots last week at her 15-week appointment. At the same time, she was getting over a cold. In addition, she isn’t napping very well at daycare. Finally, she is teething again. All of these factors combined on Monday night into a tantrum, a tantrum so fierce, in fact, that she decided it couldn’t wait until the morning, and thought that it would be best to wake up and have it right then, at 11:45pm.

She would not be calmed by the normal soothing techniques. She would not take a bottle, or a pacifier. She just cried and cried as I walked her around the house, so much so that it was starting to worry me. At one point, as I paced the kitchen with her in my arms, she pointed to her highchair and yelled, “AH!” When I asked her if she wanted to sit down in her highchair, she said, “Ah, Ah, AH!”

So, I put her in it. She pointed to the cupboard, and I brought out some Goldfish and placed them on her tray. She gobbled them up, had a slug of water, and I just had to laugh. I turned to Donna and said, “Can you believe this kid?” She just shook her head.

After a few more handfuls of Goldfish, I asked Reilly if she was ready for bed, and she reached out her arms. I walked her back to her room, placed her in her crib, and she fell fast asleep.

From the Archives: October 17, 2005 - Age 26

This week we had a momentous “first” from Reilly—she laughed! Shawn was holding her, and her dad and mom were making silly noises and faces, and then Reilly wiggled and said, “ah-ha!” I mocked her, and said, “ah-ha” back at her, and it wasn’t until Shawn said, “She just laughed!” that I realized what our little girl had done. Though Reilly has yet to repeat this feat, Shawn and I have not let up in our acts of silly persuasion.

Reilly has decreased her spit bubbles this week, instead increasing her “conversations” with us. She will talk to anyone and anything. She will talk to her mom, she will talk to her doll, she will talk to her dad cooking dinner and she will talk to the pot that he is stirring on the stove. Her favorite thing to do is stick all four fingers in her mouth and then talk a blue streak.

We’ve been watching with interest and some trepidation as Reilly becomes more adept at rolling herself over. Though she has yet to complete the process all by herself, she seems on the verge. This morning she nearly had it while she was playing in her crib. She threw up her leg, twisted under her arm, and made it to her side, teetered there for a moment, then fell backwards and cried in frustration. As a result of this soon to be developed skill, Shawn and I have to watch Reilly closely when she is in her swing, her changing table, and on the bed, lest she finally decide to roll over when we’re not looking. Yet another thing to worry about!

At 14 weeks, Reilly has become proficient at taking a bottle, a duty that usually falls to me, since Shawn has to pump simultaneously. As parents, this new development is key, as it now allows Shawn to leave her baby for more than four hours at a time (not that she ever wants to). In fact, I write this entry as Reilly sits next to me in the swing, drowsing in the warm room, as her mother has dinner with her friends Kristi and Christi, who came to visit this weekend. (More spoiling from her “aunts!”) Reilly’s ability to take a bottle is also important for her transition to daycare, which is coming sooner than we all want to admit.

Shawn and I toured our first daycare (FedKids) this week, and though we felt comfortable with the location, facility, and teachers, it was still difficult to imagine her all alone at the place. Of course, this is not a hang-up for Reilly, but for her parents. Shawn and I still can’t believe we are parents, and it would be nice to get used to the idea before we begin to let others parent our baby for two days a week. Then again, if we don’t get going, we’ll never find a place to enroll Reilly anyway—FedKids declined our application—the daycare was already full for January 1, 2006!

“Full?” we asked.

The woman who had led our tour looked back at us. “Yes, we’re full until next September.”

“I guess we should have started earlier,” I said.

The woman looked at me with arched eyebrows, and it made me feel a bit unworthy to be a father. This parenting stuff never gets easier, does it?

Proof of her brilliance

Yesterday, Reilly broke into the child-proofed kitchen cabinet. She did it so deftly, and with so much intelligence, that I knew at once she was her mother's daughter. Since the cabinet contains not just the trash, but also every chemical cleaner in the house, we spent a good part of yesterday evening rearranging the cabinets so that the dog food is now where the Clorox used to be.

At least now the worst that could happen is that Reilly eats a little dog kibble, and it's not like that hasn't ever happened before.

I leave you with the photo proof of Reilly's brilliance, in two frames:

Week 66 Pictures

Click here to see Reilly chalking up another week!

The Fifteen Month Check-up

This morning, Reilly had her fifteen month check-up at the doctor's. Of all the changes that we have gone through since moving back to Florida, our transition to a new pediatrician has been the smoothest. Not only did they accomodate us for our emergency visit, but they also happen to be the nicest, most professional office I've ever been in.

Our old pediatrician, West 11th Pediatrics, was a dream--great doctors, great sick policy, and a wonderful nurse, named Doris. To say that our new pediatrician, (Pediatric Health Care Alliance) is better, is quite a statement. Everything at PHCA is electronic: the nurse took Reilly's stats on a laptop, and gave us a quick survey from the same machine. Later, the doctor came in with the results of that survey and used it to help qualify where Reilly stands developmentally.

For example, she said, "I see that Reilly is walking and says over fifteen words and drinks from a sippy cup. Can you tell me a little more about her diet?" I was blown away by the effectiveness of this sort of communication. Whereas normally you repeat the same spiel with the nurse, and then with the doctor, in this case it was as if they were the same person. As I talked to the doctor about Reilly, she took notes on her laptop. When I mentioned that I had brought in Reilly's paper medical records, she said, "I know, I scanned them in and am viewing them now."

I wanted to hug her.

Today Reilly had to have two vaccinations and a flu shot. She was seriously pissed off. What was calming was that at the end of the visit, the nurse handed me sheets describing each shot, the reason for the shot, and any side effects that the vaccinations might cause in Reilly. When I asked the nurse to write down Reilly's stats so that I could share them with the internet, she said, "Oh, I've already printed them at the bottom of your daughter's 12-18 month information sheet." I looked at the sheet. So she had.

I'll make you wait no longer. Here are Reilly's stats, according to this percentile calculator:

20.19 lbs = 10th percentile
2 feet, 6 inches = 30th percentile
18.5 inches head circumference = 77th percentile

For the most part, these stats show that Reilly is still on her own growth curve, and is in line to be a top heavy child, prone to falling over at the slightest breeze.

To review her past stats, click here for her one year check-up, and here for her nine month check-up. (I can't seem to find her six month check-up and three month check-up. Sorry!)

Like Father, Like Daughter, Part II

(Note: I wrote this entry on Monday, but am just now getting the opportunity to get it online. Stay tuned for my next entry on this topic, which I am tentatively naming: "Three things I hate about Reilly's new daycare.")

A first day at a new job can be tough. There are new names to learn, hands to shake, directions to follow. Since I like to be on time to the nth degree, I am now sitting in the parking lot in front of my office at 7:45am, 45 minutes before my first meeting.

I was feeling a little nervous on the drive to work, and feeling a little envious of Reilly. Today is her first day too--first day at her new childcare facility. And even though we told her she was going to "school" this morning, she doesn't know enough about what we're saying to be nervous. She just blinked her eyes at us in the early morning light and whined for her bottle. For Reilly, it was just another morning. She doesn't have to have nerves at the prospect of her new day, though it pains me to think she might be afraid when Shawn leaves her behind at the daycare this morning. I calm myself with the knowledge of how independent she is, and how much she loves other kids.

Well then, off I go to Human Resources for orientation. I can only hope that Reilly understands that though first days can be tough, and there is much to learn, there is also much happiness to be found, and new friendships to be made.

Nontoxic

The other day, Donna gave Reilly a pen and a piece of paper. Reilly proceeded to scribble a bit on the paper. At that moment, she became a Drawer. At once, I was surprised and not surprised--an event that happens quite regularly for this dad.

Motivated by her new found skill, the next day I gave Reilly a large crayon that Shawn had brought back from Germany. She was able to draw a few faint lines on a piece of paper, but the pressure required of the waxy crayon was a little much for her to overcome.

The same day, I bought Reilly some sidewalk chalk to try out. Later, Shawn sat her down at the city park and opened up the box of chalk:

Reilly got to work right away, and she was pretty good at it, getting about 50% of the chalk on the pavement, 40% on her clothes, and about 10% in her mouth. Good thing Crayola makes nontoxic chalk. Reilly's spit was blue for ten minutes afterward.

Week 65 Pictures

We are a 1 camera family, and Shawn has the digital on her business trip, so I have but two pictures for you this week.

Last Sunday, Shawn and I took Reilly to Gulfport to get a cup of coffee and putz around. Here are the shots I snapped outside the coffee shop:

From Green Tea to Calgary

I was just in the pantry, looking for some green tea, which made me think of my old work pals Ellen and Adriana. At my old job in The City, every day I would get a hankering for green tea around 1:30pm. Since Ellen and Adriana were big tea drinkers, I would walk over to one of their offices to “borrow” a tea bag.

Which person I chose to visit was dependent on the type of tea I was in the mood for. Ellen had the real deal green tea straight from China. The name on the teabag was too strange to not be authentic: “Prince of Peace.” If I wanted loose tea, however, I would go to see Adriana, who had some really fragrant Twinning jasmine tea. To this day, I’ve never had jasmine tea as good as the stuff Adriana had.

The pantry also made me think of Shawn, who is in Calgary today. Shawn is a sucker for any products that say “new” on the label, or that otherwise are outside of the normal realm of the food store. Me, I’ll take my same old box of Triscuits each week, but Shawn likes to be adventurous. I often make fun of her for trying new things, because more often than not, she doesn’t like the special product she bought, and we end up with a half gallon of some strange juice from Africa that tastes like dirt.

For example, today when I was looking for tea, I came across a big tin of powdered Ovalmaltine, which apparently is the Swiss version of Ovaltine. Shawn picked it up when she was in Switzerland, thinking Reilly might like it. Reilly took one sip, opened her mouth, and let it dribble down her chin. No surprise there.

The good thing about Shawn’s adventurous food choices is that sooner or later, she brings something home that is awesome. Right now, I am enjoying a Basler Leckerli with my cup of green tea. The little biscuits taste like licorice flavored shortbread, and are damn tasty. She also brought home bar after bar of Finnish and Swiss chocolate, which is the best I've ever had.

Yesterday when I talked to Shawn, she was in Calgary. She said that she was missing Reilly, and asked me to send her some pictures. When I asked her what she had bought, she said shoes and clothes. Hopefully, she’ll come across some interesting food item and pick it up for us to try. (If not hon, get me some of those ketchup chips chips while you're in Canada. You know how much I like those things.)

Anyway, in honor of Shawn’s request, here is a little photo strip of some of my favorite shots of her and Reilly:

Front-facing

As I've stated in a previous entry, Reilly has had some difficulty adjusting to the car seat. By "difficulty" I mean that she cries from the moment I put her in it until the moment I remove her. Sometimes I can bribe her to be quiet with some goldfish crackers or some cheerios, but for the most part, driving with Reilly in the car is torture. I've tried playing her favorite CD, I've tried singing to her, I've even tried drowning her out. Nothing really works.

Both Shawn and I have postulated that the reason she gets pissed off in the car seat is because she is facing the rear of the car. For those who don't know, you are supposed to face a child to the rear of the car until she is 12 months old or 20 pounds, whichever comes last. As you all are aware, Reilly is closing in on 15 months, but she is also only in the 4th percentile for weight, so we've been patiently waiting for her to hit the 20 pound milestone.

I've considered feeding her doughnuts to get her to put on weight (worked for me).

The other day, grandma Donna took Reilly to the local grocery store. When she returned, she pronounced that Reilly was 21 pounds fully clothed. When I asked her how she came to this measurement, she stated that she had weighed Reilly on the Publix scale. The accuracy of said scale withstanding, I decided that was enough for me.

Yesterday, I turned Reilly's car seat around in the backseat and clipped her in. I drove to the playground. She did not cry. When I tilted the rearview mirror to see if she was still awake, she looked right at me and smiled. Later, when I checked her again, she was staring out the window. Turning around the car seat has transformed my devil baby back into her little sweet self, and has turned her harried, grumpy driver daddy back into his NPR loving, safe driving self.

Like father like daughter

Reilly and I are sharing a common problem today: pain.

For Reilly, it is teething, once again. I'm not sure what is coming in now, but the telltale drool and irritability is back with a vengeance. I'm guessing it's her eye teeth.

For me, it is a sore right knee and an equally sore left ankle. Last night I came out of retirement and joined Team TBD for a night of 8 on 8 men's league soccer. I'm proud to say that I scored the first goal. I am less proud to say that I was so out of shape that I had to play goalie for the whole second half.

Our team ended up winning 3-2, which places us at 1-0 on the season. Stay tuned for a report on next Monday's game. For now, it's Motrin for me, infant Motrin for Reilly.

Good Fortune, and her sister, Guilt

I am sitting at the computer, looking through the sliding glass door to the deck outside, where the shadow of the oak tree shimmers with the breeze. The house is quiet; Reilly is taking her nap, and Leia is next to me on the tile floor, somehow hoping a crumb from my sandwich will fall to her. I am trying to enjoy these moments of quiet and freedom, since I begin a new job next Monday.

Last week I was hired on at a local nonprofit. I am truly thrilled about the job--it's a great fit for me, the people are great, and the pay and benefits are also excellent. Throughout the long and sometimes torturous job hunt, I had up to five different organizations interested me, and ended up with three offers on the table at the same time. I felt fortunate to have three good options to choose from, and also a little proud that I was valued at a potential employee.

It took me two months to find a new job. That seems to be a reasonable amount of time. Since the actual searching, applying, and interviewing only took up about 5% of my time, I had the opportunity to spend the majority of the two months with Reilly. As she approaches fifteen months, I feel fortunate that we have had this time to get to know each other better. She is such a great kid, so smart and sensitive and caring, and so full of energy and life.

Shawn's experience in the last two months has been the opposite of mine. She has been traveling for her job for long stretches of time: gone seven days, home two days, gone five days, home three days, and son on. True, she has had the opportunity to visit Finland and Denmark and Germany and Switzerland, but she has had to walk the streets of Berlin without her daughter, and that makes her sad, and it makes her feel guilty.

Still, her salary has kept us afloat, has helped us pay off our credit card, which was stretched thin in our last few months in The City. Yesterday, her salary helped us buy a new car.* With our good credit, we were able to get a good loan and quick approval. When I looked from the room we were in to the room across the hall, I saw another young couple. They were having trouble financing their car. Their faces were clearly pained as the salesman explained their dwindling options. Once again, I felt fortunate.

This morning, Reilly woke up and I brought her into bed with me for a little snuggle. When she saw Shawn wasn't here, she slid off the bed and walked around the house looking for her. A short time later, she gave up. She didn't seem sad or concerned, but the scene made me feel sad, and a little guilty, that Shawn has been financing my free time; my busy afternoons at the playground, and my quiet moments, such as this.

(*We didn't actually buy a new car. We bought a new used car, a 2003 Toyota Camry LE, white, with 23,000 miles on it. If you're in the market for a used car, try Carmax. We were very impressed with their operation.)