Ever since New Year's, Sadie has devoted herself to learning to walk, with a vengeance. She's beginning to really put effort towards getting on her feet, and seems to have picked up some new ideas about how to do it. These are exciting to watch, and we respond to each new skill by screaming with praise.
At the Vancouver house, she watched our friends' god-son Dash get to a standing position from crawling by straightening his arms and legs (a la the "Downward dog" yoga pose)and then using his arms to push himself up to standing. Since then she's begun doing the first half -- stiffening her legs -- but doesn't quite have the strength or the balance to stand up by herself. Give her something to pull herself up on, though, like my outstretched arm, and she does it in a heartbeat.
Her balance is improving, too. She's begun pushing herself away from surfaces for a few moments at a time, standing without aid until she loses her nerve and abruptly sits down (or, in an alarming trend, flinging herself backwards with the assumption that one of us will catch her). What's especially heartening is that things that used to unnerve and upset her, like being jostled or losing her balance, don't phase her at much as they used to. Overall this speeds up progress, since she can now handle the occasional bump or trip without bursting into a crying fit or giving up.
In the meantime, we do what we can to strengthen her even further. She adores crawling up on raised surfaces, so I encourage her to climb up onto anything she can find -- although of course some places, like the arms of the couch, are off limits. I discovered a new "game," in which she stands on the top step of her plastic slide while I get down and peek through the slats on the side, saying, "Down!" and then stand up to look her in the eye, saying, "Up!" She mimics the movement, so I'm basically tricking her into doing squats under the pretense that we're having fun. Or maybe she's the one tricking me.
She also loves to walk between me and Scott, with each of us holding one hand. Sunday was a beautiful sunny day, so we walked the dogs to the park and did a lap all the way around the playground, holding hands. It was further than she'd ever walked and it completely exhausted her, but she loved every minute of it.
We've completed her sessions with Dr. Meyer, and all that reminds is to go in one last time to get the results of the testing and to hear Dr. Meyer's suggestions about how to make life smoother and easier for Sadie in the future. Were these sessions enlightening? Yes, to an extent. Were they necessary? I'm not completely sure. Much of what we "learned" about Sadie, we already knew: she's cognitively ahead but physically behind; she's got strong social skills but is very deeply attached to me and is easily unnerved by unfamiliar situations if I'm not there.
Our last session did lead to an interesting breakthrough. Dr. Meyer was evaluating Sadie's physical skills, and Sadie was having a great time with it. As she went after a ball that had rolled past her, Dr. Meyer cried out, "Sadie, good job!" in an unusually loud and high-pitched voice. Sadie, startled, stopped immediately what she was doing, stared at the ball for a few seconds, then burst into hysterical tears.
As we calmed her down, I tried to explain that she's always been sensitive to being "scolded" or harsh tones of voice. I recalled the incident that permanently scarred my poor father, the time he was trying to stop her from tossing some eggs on the floor and said, "No!" right in her ear, without meaning to. (The resulting sobbing fit upset him more than it did her, I think.) As I explained, I began to muse that this could very well be a reason why Sadie gets upset over seemingly nothing, and that perhaps some people -- like the owner of Happy Star day care or poor, long-suffering Joy -- intrinsically rub her the wrong way. Low, mellow tones of voice makes her happy; sharp tones throw her abruptly out of whack and, apparently, deeply upset her. It would also explain why she naturally takes to men, whose voices are lower and who are less prone to raising their voices.
If it turns out I'm right about this, it's going to help us out a lot when it comes to introducing Sadie to new people and situations. If and when she goes back to daycare -- and that will happen when it happens; I'm not going to push it anymore -- we'll know that she needs an environment that's relatively quiet and calm. When we hire babysitters and nannies, we'll know to hire people who have calm personalities and soothing voices.
It also most likely means finding a new physical therapist, which makes me feel bad. Joy has done so much to try to help Sadie, and has gone the extra mile in a way that, from what everyone else is telling me, is exceedingly rare. But it's pretty clear that the match isn't working, so next week I'll start a new search. I'm also considering starting Occupational Therapy, which typically is done in conjunction with PT and which kids more traditionally "enjoy" since they get to learn and practice real world skills rather than just working out. One thing Sadie and I definitely have in common is a shared suspicion of the gym.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Monday, January 17, 2011
Words Words Words
Age: 15 months, 3 weeks
Words She Says:
- Up
- No
- Mama
- Dada
- Ball
- Apple
- Nana (banana)
- Cracker
- Water
- Bok (what a chicken says)
- Woof-woof
- Go (which either means "dog" or "outside")
- Mun (more)
Words She Says:
- Up
- No
- Mama
- Dada
- Ball
- Apple
- Nana (banana)
- Cracker
- Water
- Bok (what a chicken says)
- Woof-woof
- Go (which either means "dog" or "outside")
- Mun (more)
Friday, January 14, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
Nannies, Caregivers and Such
It occurred to me today that I've been living with a veil of anxiety over my head for so long that I can't even remember how it feels to have a regular, stress-free routine. Not a complaint, just an observation. For some reason I have been laboring under the impression that as 2010 gave way to 2011, things would settle down into something approaching normalcy. They haven't, of course, but at least we do have some answers.
We did, in fact, manage to hire the Nanny McPhee/Mary Poppins hybrid whom I liked so much in last week's interview. Actually, the most accurate comparison I can think of is my mother-in-law; they're similar in personality. That's a good thing; I have a kickass mother-in-law. She begins at the end of the month, taking over for Shawnie, our current sitter. Meanwhile, we've had so many different nannies and sitters at our house recently that today Shawnie told me she was accosted by one of our neighbors, who wanted to know just who she was and why she was walking around with my child. I guess it must look weird to other people to see a new person out with Sadie on what is seemingly a weekly basis. I've become very adept and chanting the line "It takes a village, it takes a village" over and over in my head when I start freaking out too much over this.
We may wind up with a huge upcoming disruption in our schedule, but that isn't for certain yet, so I will update if/when I get word of it. It will happen some time in February.
On to the better news: my grandfather is out of the hospital and being cared for in the comfort of his own home. This is one blessing for which my family is very grateful.
And now, for your viewing pleasure, and because we've had enough drama on this blog for now, enjoy some cute baby videos.
We did, in fact, manage to hire the Nanny McPhee/Mary Poppins hybrid whom I liked so much in last week's interview. Actually, the most accurate comparison I can think of is my mother-in-law; they're similar in personality. That's a good thing; I have a kickass mother-in-law. She begins at the end of the month, taking over for Shawnie, our current sitter. Meanwhile, we've had so many different nannies and sitters at our house recently that today Shawnie told me she was accosted by one of our neighbors, who wanted to know just who she was and why she was walking around with my child. I guess it must look weird to other people to see a new person out with Sadie on what is seemingly a weekly basis. I've become very adept and chanting the line "It takes a village, it takes a village" over and over in my head when I start freaking out too much over this.
We may wind up with a huge upcoming disruption in our schedule, but that isn't for certain yet, so I will update if/when I get word of it. It will happen some time in February.
On to the better news: my grandfather is out of the hospital and being cared for in the comfort of his own home. This is one blessing for which my family is very grateful.
And now, for your viewing pleasure, and because we've had enough drama on this blog for now, enjoy some cute baby videos.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
All of my stress has been put in perspective over the last few days because of my grandfather's recent health problems. He had a serious fall while at work earlier in the week and is now in the hospital receiving care, which is frightening for him and for us. We've always had a close and special relationship and I'm very worried about him, although I know he's in great hands.
I've worked out a temporary deal with our babysitter, Shawnie, to take care of Sadie in the afternoons from now until the end of January. She's a student and next semester begins in February, so unfortunately I'll have to find someone else fairly soon -- but it's a tremendous relief to have some of the pressure taken off of us to find a replacement for the last nanny immediately.
We conducted a couple of interviews. Two didn't stick -- one was a young Swedish woman who seemed kind of over it and just desperate for a job; the other seemed really smart and capable, but I was getting an "I'm not sure I even want this job" kind of vibe from her. I want the person I hire to be genuinely enthusiastic about Sadie, without being so un-picky that they will accept the position no-questions-asked.
And, most importantly, I HAVE to have a good gut instinct about her, and I don't want to be pushed into making that kind of decision after knowing the person for only 20 minutes. I never really loved our last nanny, even though she seemed better than the alternative, continuing to employ Petty Criminal Nanny. She was sweet to Sadie, but not especially affectionate, and Sadie always cried when she arrived. She always seemed to be killing time while looking for something better -- I even discovered yesterday that she was using our computer to scour the internet for better jobs. Jesus, people, does nobody know how to cover their tracks anymore? If you're going to use your employer's computer to look for other jobs, at least be smart enough to sign out of your email account when you leave!
Anyway, the third candidate we interviewed was really great -- she's an older woman whose kids have recently moved out of the house but aren't yet old enough to start having kids of their own. She only wants part-time work, and it was clear she was quality material when she admitted that she's already been offered a job by a family she's never met, just off the strength of her Craigslist posting. She brought a bunch of material for me to look at, including pamphlets from Trustline, a service which conducts a background check on your behalf for you to show employers as proof that you aren't shady. She'd be taking something of a pay cut coming to work for us, but I have a secret weapon: a charming-as-shit baby girl who completely charmed her in the interview. I think there's a good chance that she'd accept the job and come work for us, so let's keep our fingers crossed on that one.
What else? Sadie has a bunch of new words, including "Nana" for banana, and "App" for apple, which sounds suspiciously similar to "Up" when she wants to be picked up or see something on a raised surface. This morning she lost track of me and started wandering around the house calling "Mama, Mama?" which melted my heart because she likes to pretend she doesn't know my name. She blows kisses all day.
Sessions with Dr. Meyer, the child psychologist, are going fine. Sadie has no issues at all in the sessions and so far has been blasting through the simple puzzles and other toys the doctor gives her. Dr. Meyer seems convinced that Sadie's issue with PT is that it's causing her some kind of physical discomfort, which is what triggers her crying bouts, but both Scott and I are skeptical about this. Although she does have "good" and "bad" days with the crying, which indicates that maybe sometimes she feels less good than others, she also has triggers that have nothing to do with physical motion, such as when Rose walked away from her to pick up the phone at her daycare trial. It also doesn't make sense that she'd be inconsolable afterward when she hasn't so much as moved two feet. Besides, Scott has regular wrestling sessions with her where he tosses her onto the bed and she wriggles around like a fish, and she's too busy laughing her ass off to exhibit any sign of pain or discomfort.
So the mystery continues. Dr. Meyer wants us to go to a neurologist to make sure that Sadie doesn't have some kind of chronic condition that's causing her pain, such as arthritis. We haven't decided yet whether or not to pursue this avenue, since it means yet another doctor who, I'm sure, will want to run further tests and have her come in again and again and possibly refer her to yet another specialist. Considering she's already standing more confidently and is getting closer every day to taking her first steps, I'm not sure this is necessary or even for the best.
I've worked out a temporary deal with our babysitter, Shawnie, to take care of Sadie in the afternoons from now until the end of January. She's a student and next semester begins in February, so unfortunately I'll have to find someone else fairly soon -- but it's a tremendous relief to have some of the pressure taken off of us to find a replacement for the last nanny immediately.
We conducted a couple of interviews. Two didn't stick -- one was a young Swedish woman who seemed kind of over it and just desperate for a job; the other seemed really smart and capable, but I was getting an "I'm not sure I even want this job" kind of vibe from her. I want the person I hire to be genuinely enthusiastic about Sadie, without being so un-picky that they will accept the position no-questions-asked.
And, most importantly, I HAVE to have a good gut instinct about her, and I don't want to be pushed into making that kind of decision after knowing the person for only 20 minutes. I never really loved our last nanny, even though she seemed better than the alternative, continuing to employ Petty Criminal Nanny. She was sweet to Sadie, but not especially affectionate, and Sadie always cried when she arrived. She always seemed to be killing time while looking for something better -- I even discovered yesterday that she was using our computer to scour the internet for better jobs. Jesus, people, does nobody know how to cover their tracks anymore? If you're going to use your employer's computer to look for other jobs, at least be smart enough to sign out of your email account when you leave!
Anyway, the third candidate we interviewed was really great -- she's an older woman whose kids have recently moved out of the house but aren't yet old enough to start having kids of their own. She only wants part-time work, and it was clear she was quality material when she admitted that she's already been offered a job by a family she's never met, just off the strength of her Craigslist posting. She brought a bunch of material for me to look at, including pamphlets from Trustline, a service which conducts a background check on your behalf for you to show employers as proof that you aren't shady. She'd be taking something of a pay cut coming to work for us, but I have a secret weapon: a charming-as-shit baby girl who completely charmed her in the interview. I think there's a good chance that she'd accept the job and come work for us, so let's keep our fingers crossed on that one.
What else? Sadie has a bunch of new words, including "Nana" for banana, and "App" for apple, which sounds suspiciously similar to "Up" when she wants to be picked up or see something on a raised surface. This morning she lost track of me and started wandering around the house calling "Mama, Mama?" which melted my heart because she likes to pretend she doesn't know my name. She blows kisses all day.
Sessions with Dr. Meyer, the child psychologist, are going fine. Sadie has no issues at all in the sessions and so far has been blasting through the simple puzzles and other toys the doctor gives her. Dr. Meyer seems convinced that Sadie's issue with PT is that it's causing her some kind of physical discomfort, which is what triggers her crying bouts, but both Scott and I are skeptical about this. Although she does have "good" and "bad" days with the crying, which indicates that maybe sometimes she feels less good than others, she also has triggers that have nothing to do with physical motion, such as when Rose walked away from her to pick up the phone at her daycare trial. It also doesn't make sense that she'd be inconsolable afterward when she hasn't so much as moved two feet. Besides, Scott has regular wrestling sessions with her where he tosses her onto the bed and she wriggles around like a fish, and she's too busy laughing her ass off to exhibit any sign of pain or discomfort.
So the mystery continues. Dr. Meyer wants us to go to a neurologist to make sure that Sadie doesn't have some kind of chronic condition that's causing her pain, such as arthritis. We haven't decided yet whether or not to pursue this avenue, since it means yet another doctor who, I'm sure, will want to run further tests and have her come in again and again and possibly refer her to yet another specialist. Considering she's already standing more confidently and is getting closer every day to taking her first steps, I'm not sure this is necessary or even for the best.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Child Careworn
I hate this.
Another disaster again this morning. It seems maybe Sadie's not ready for daycare after all, and I'd been feeling so good about it. Once again there are many options laid before us and I have no idea which is the right one.
I took her back to Rose's today. We'd spoken about it on the phone; I'd explained Sadie's great physical progress, her fantastic attitude with the kids she met over the holidays and how at ease she'd seemed, her improved coping skills.We agreed to a trial period, just a couple of hours with Rose and the three kids she's currently watching, to see how she'd do.
I brought her over in the morning, around 9am. the three kids (two girls a little under 3 years old and a baby about Sadie's age) were hanging out and playing. They greeted her with hugs and interest. As I sat on the couch, where Sadie could see me, I watched her join their playing, waited until she was no longer paying attention to me, and snuck out the door. It all seemed to work seamlessly.
When I walked in the front door ten minutes later, there was already a message on the answering machine from Rose. I'd accidentally taken Sadie's diaper bag with me when I left -- could I bring it back? I called her back to tell her I was on my way, and suddenly I could hear Sadie's wail in the background. I guess she'd been doing great right up to that point, and then when Rose left the room to answer the phone, she lost it. I tried not to be too upset about it -- remembering that Sadie now has the ability to calm herself down the way she couldn't when she was younger.
But...of course...she doesn't have that ability. If she did, we wouldn't be dropping insane amounts of money on child psychologists on the advice of our physical therapist, who puts up with Sadie's freak-outs on a weekly basis. As I pulled up outside Rose's and she walked out the door with Sadie in her arms, my heart sank and I already knew what she was going to say.
Now, thirty minutes later, I'm home, Sadie is asleep and I'm doing what I can to hold the panic at bay.
What in the world is the right thing to do here? Not to sound petulant, but this nanny situation SUCKS. Twice now we've lost a nanny unexpectedly, with no advance warning, and each time I've had to battle anger and disappointment over the idea that someone I've allowed into my home, to be alone with my daughter, could simply walk out on us, could not be bothered to handle her job duties with courtesy and honesty. Each time I have dreaded going through the hiring and training process all over again.
Beyond that, I hate being driven out of my own house every day. I hate having to haunt coffeehouses and libraries to get my work done, to be unable to do things like participate in a conference call unless I've locked myself in my car, or clean the house because if Sadie sees me walk into the room she wants to come to me and bursts into tears when she can't.
I hate that I've begun to resent the dogs, who wake Sadie up from her midday naps by barking every time someone comes to the door.
But how can I leave my daughter at a day care facility if she clearly isn't ready? I'm so frustrated; I thought she WAS ready. Did I just talk myself into thinking this was the case because I wanted it to be true?
Yesterday we visited a different daycare. This one had lots of kids and noise. It reminded me of Happy Star, except that this time Sadie squirmed to get down and play -- she wanted to follow the other kids around, wanted to greet people, seemed to care less about my whereabouts. She chattered cheerfully at the day care owner. The woman LOVED Sadie -- wanted her to start immediately and said she thought she'd be a good fit with their environment.
Why was Sadie's attitude so different yesterday -- Was it because I was there in the room with her and she felt my presence even when she wasn't consciously paying attention to me? Or was it something more trivial, like the fact that it was four in the afternoon? I'd brought her to Rose's at 9am, the time when she'd typically be winding down for a late morning nap. Had it been a stupid idea to think she wouldn't freak out when I suddenly left her in a room full of active kids when what she really wanted was to be in a dark, quiet room snuggling with her blanket? Was it because she'd been to Rose's in the past and remembered it as a crying place -- would somewhere new, a blank slate, feel (ironically) more reassuring?
I don't know the answers to any of these, and with each wrong choice I make, the consequence is just a little bit greater. I can't just haul Sadie off to different day care facilities indefinitely, hoping that I stumble upon the perfect one. I can't just continue to hire nannies, hoping that I'll find someone who doesn't mind working only part time and constantly shuffling their schedule to deal with Sadie's and my unpredictable needs; I have to acknowledge that someone that good at their job is eventually going to find a position with steadier and better-paying work.
Each time this happens, my schedule is thrown into a complete tailspin. This is difficult enough in any month, but right now it's disastrous. There are no less than nine doctors or medical experts of various types I'd made appointments to see this month either with Sadie or without -- the pediatrician, the physical therapist, the psychologist, the dentist, imaging specialists, my GP, my OB, the MRI people, my back doctor. And those are just the doctor's appointments. When I think about the fact that I have two massive freelance projects about to arrive at my doorstep, plus another job working for my mom, it makes me feel like I'm about to hyperventilate. I want to curl up into the fetal position. I want someone to pop a pacifier into my mouth and hand me my special blanket. I wish it were that easy.
Another disaster again this morning. It seems maybe Sadie's not ready for daycare after all, and I'd been feeling so good about it. Once again there are many options laid before us and I have no idea which is the right one.
I took her back to Rose's today. We'd spoken about it on the phone; I'd explained Sadie's great physical progress, her fantastic attitude with the kids she met over the holidays and how at ease she'd seemed, her improved coping skills.We agreed to a trial period, just a couple of hours with Rose and the three kids she's currently watching, to see how she'd do.
I brought her over in the morning, around 9am. the three kids (two girls a little under 3 years old and a baby about Sadie's age) were hanging out and playing. They greeted her with hugs and interest. As I sat on the couch, where Sadie could see me, I watched her join their playing, waited until she was no longer paying attention to me, and snuck out the door. It all seemed to work seamlessly.
When I walked in the front door ten minutes later, there was already a message on the answering machine from Rose. I'd accidentally taken Sadie's diaper bag with me when I left -- could I bring it back? I called her back to tell her I was on my way, and suddenly I could hear Sadie's wail in the background. I guess she'd been doing great right up to that point, and then when Rose left the room to answer the phone, she lost it. I tried not to be too upset about it -- remembering that Sadie now has the ability to calm herself down the way she couldn't when she was younger.
But...of course...she doesn't have that ability. If she did, we wouldn't be dropping insane amounts of money on child psychologists on the advice of our physical therapist, who puts up with Sadie's freak-outs on a weekly basis. As I pulled up outside Rose's and she walked out the door with Sadie in her arms, my heart sank and I already knew what she was going to say.
Now, thirty minutes later, I'm home, Sadie is asleep and I'm doing what I can to hold the panic at bay.
What in the world is the right thing to do here? Not to sound petulant, but this nanny situation SUCKS. Twice now we've lost a nanny unexpectedly, with no advance warning, and each time I've had to battle anger and disappointment over the idea that someone I've allowed into my home, to be alone with my daughter, could simply walk out on us, could not be bothered to handle her job duties with courtesy and honesty. Each time I have dreaded going through the hiring and training process all over again.
Beyond that, I hate being driven out of my own house every day. I hate having to haunt coffeehouses and libraries to get my work done, to be unable to do things like participate in a conference call unless I've locked myself in my car, or clean the house because if Sadie sees me walk into the room she wants to come to me and bursts into tears when she can't.
I hate that I've begun to resent the dogs, who wake Sadie up from her midday naps by barking every time someone comes to the door.
But how can I leave my daughter at a day care facility if she clearly isn't ready? I'm so frustrated; I thought she WAS ready. Did I just talk myself into thinking this was the case because I wanted it to be true?
Yesterday we visited a different daycare. This one had lots of kids and noise. It reminded me of Happy Star, except that this time Sadie squirmed to get down and play -- she wanted to follow the other kids around, wanted to greet people, seemed to care less about my whereabouts. She chattered cheerfully at the day care owner. The woman LOVED Sadie -- wanted her to start immediately and said she thought she'd be a good fit with their environment.
Why was Sadie's attitude so different yesterday -- Was it because I was there in the room with her and she felt my presence even when she wasn't consciously paying attention to me? Or was it something more trivial, like the fact that it was four in the afternoon? I'd brought her to Rose's at 9am, the time when she'd typically be winding down for a late morning nap. Had it been a stupid idea to think she wouldn't freak out when I suddenly left her in a room full of active kids when what she really wanted was to be in a dark, quiet room snuggling with her blanket? Was it because she'd been to Rose's in the past and remembered it as a crying place -- would somewhere new, a blank slate, feel (ironically) more reassuring?
I don't know the answers to any of these, and with each wrong choice I make, the consequence is just a little bit greater. I can't just haul Sadie off to different day care facilities indefinitely, hoping that I stumble upon the perfect one. I can't just continue to hire nannies, hoping that I'll find someone who doesn't mind working only part time and constantly shuffling their schedule to deal with Sadie's and my unpredictable needs; I have to acknowledge that someone that good at their job is eventually going to find a position with steadier and better-paying work.
Each time this happens, my schedule is thrown into a complete tailspin. This is difficult enough in any month, but right now it's disastrous. There are no less than nine doctors or medical experts of various types I'd made appointments to see this month either with Sadie or without -- the pediatrician, the physical therapist, the psychologist, the dentist, imaging specialists, my GP, my OB, the MRI people, my back doctor. And those are just the doctor's appointments. When I think about the fact that I have two massive freelance projects about to arrive at my doorstep, plus another job working for my mom, it makes me feel like I'm about to hyperventilate. I want to curl up into the fetal position. I want someone to pop a pacifier into my mouth and hand me my special blanket. I wish it were that easy.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Home Again
We just returned last night from our trip to Galiano Island, which was just as great as Sadie's book promised her it would be, but with a little more adventure thrown in.
Sadie was an angel on the flight there and a demon on the way back, but you could hardly blame her. We took the 9:30am ferry into Vancouver from the island and then had several hours to kill before going to the airport, so we went to the aquarium. She loved it. What did she love best, you ask? The otter? The anemones? The 20-armed starfish? No, she fell in love in the children's play area, with a cheesy display in which bubbles float up endlessly through colored lights. She practically spazzed when we finally dragged her away so we could catch our flight.
My perpetual fear is always of being That Family, the one with the screaming child on the plane who won't shut up. Back when I was childfree I would glare and mutter under my breath and swear that that would never my MY kid. Unfortunately, karma came back around in a big way last night -- Sadie wanted nothing to do with the airplane. She couldn't get comfortable, and then once Scott had finally rocked her to sleep in his arms (after screaming fit #1), the guy in front of him put his seat back and hit her in the head, waking her up and prompting screaming fit #2. 30 minutes later, she finally stopped crying when someone behind us gave in to her attempts to play peek-a-boo. Perhaps realizing that the entire plane might revolt if he didn't bite the bullet, he played peek-a-boo with her for like FORTY FIVE MINUTES, enough time to get us into our final descent into LAX. That is a lot of peek-a-boo. Wherever you are, peek-a-boo man, I love you.
The vacation itself was a blast. I'd been anxious about how Sadie would react to a house full of noisy kids and even noisier adults, but I quickly got my answer: she LOVED it, every minute. She behaved like a dream and got along with all the other kids and then, just to make us look extra hateable, she went to bed every night at 6:30 and took 2 hour naps every day as well. She even put aside her picky eating habits and chowed down on everything we offered her -- I'm sure it helped that she was playing with toys every minute she was awake and worked up a huge appetite.
Outdoors activity was curtailed because of the weather -- sunny but really, surprisingly cold, like in the 30s and 40s during the day and colder at night. One afternoon, we thought it would be a nice idea to take Sadie and one other kid for a walk down to the beach in the late afternoon. The walk ran long, afternoon turned to evening, the weather plummeted and we were NOT dressed for it. Sadie let us know about halfway through (when we were a mile from the house) that she wanted to go back inside, but instead we had to carry her back. At one point both kids were crying and our new friend Rochelle turned to us and said, "Best. Walk. Ever." We got back inside and Sadie's little fingers turned bright red and swollen and she screamed her head off for about fifteen minutes until her circulation came back to normal. Moral of this story: when your mom yelled at you to put on an extra sweater and wear gloves, SHE WAS RIGHT. YOU SHOULD HAVE LISTENED.
Anyway, we miss our friends already. It was truly a great weekend, filled with cozy fires and rounds of Trivial Pursuit and watching movies (and fourteen repetitions of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas.") And it ended with a bang -- on the ferry I got a message from our current nanny, telling me she'd gotten another job and they wanted her to start today, so that was that. No more nanny, again. The difference is, after seeing Sadie thrive this weekend, I think she might be ready to transition back into a day care again. I have a few appointments this afternoon and tomorrow, so we'll see.
Happy New Year, all.
Sadie was an angel on the flight there and a demon on the way back, but you could hardly blame her. We took the 9:30am ferry into Vancouver from the island and then had several hours to kill before going to the airport, so we went to the aquarium. She loved it. What did she love best, you ask? The otter? The anemones? The 20-armed starfish? No, she fell in love in the children's play area, with a cheesy display in which bubbles float up endlessly through colored lights. She practically spazzed when we finally dragged her away so we could catch our flight.
My perpetual fear is always of being That Family, the one with the screaming child on the plane who won't shut up. Back when I was childfree I would glare and mutter under my breath and swear that that would never my MY kid. Unfortunately, karma came back around in a big way last night -- Sadie wanted nothing to do with the airplane. She couldn't get comfortable, and then once Scott had finally rocked her to sleep in his arms (after screaming fit #1), the guy in front of him put his seat back and hit her in the head, waking her up and prompting screaming fit #2. 30 minutes later, she finally stopped crying when someone behind us gave in to her attempts to play peek-a-boo. Perhaps realizing that the entire plane might revolt if he didn't bite the bullet, he played peek-a-boo with her for like FORTY FIVE MINUTES, enough time to get us into our final descent into LAX. That is a lot of peek-a-boo. Wherever you are, peek-a-boo man, I love you.
The vacation itself was a blast. I'd been anxious about how Sadie would react to a house full of noisy kids and even noisier adults, but I quickly got my answer: she LOVED it, every minute. She behaved like a dream and got along with all the other kids and then, just to make us look extra hateable, she went to bed every night at 6:30 and took 2 hour naps every day as well. She even put aside her picky eating habits and chowed down on everything we offered her -- I'm sure it helped that she was playing with toys every minute she was awake and worked up a huge appetite.
Outdoors activity was curtailed because of the weather -- sunny but really, surprisingly cold, like in the 30s and 40s during the day and colder at night. One afternoon, we thought it would be a nice idea to take Sadie and one other kid for a walk down to the beach in the late afternoon. The walk ran long, afternoon turned to evening, the weather plummeted and we were NOT dressed for it. Sadie let us know about halfway through (when we were a mile from the house) that she wanted to go back inside, but instead we had to carry her back. At one point both kids were crying and our new friend Rochelle turned to us and said, "Best. Walk. Ever." We got back inside and Sadie's little fingers turned bright red and swollen and she screamed her head off for about fifteen minutes until her circulation came back to normal. Moral of this story: when your mom yelled at you to put on an extra sweater and wear gloves, SHE WAS RIGHT. YOU SHOULD HAVE LISTENED.
Anyway, we miss our friends already. It was truly a great weekend, filled with cozy fires and rounds of Trivial Pursuit and watching movies (and fourteen repetitions of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas.") And it ended with a bang -- on the ferry I got a message from our current nanny, telling me she'd gotten another job and they wanted her to start today, so that was that. No more nanny, again. The difference is, after seeing Sadie thrive this weekend, I think she might be ready to transition back into a day care again. I have a few appointments this afternoon and tomorrow, so we'll see.
Happy New Year, all.
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