Her Own Dentist

For a brief period of time (two months?), I could not get enough of "Jon & Kate +8," the reality show about a couple who had twins and septuplets. Wayne complained that every episode was the same, "It's always about how difficult it is to raise 8 kids." True, it was about how difficult it is to take 8 kids to (1) an amusement park, (2) a furniture store to buy bunk beds, (3) the dentist, etc . . .. Our friend, Ythan, joined in on the "Jon & Kate +8" bashing. "Why would I want to watch a show about taking kids to the dentist?" It's a logical question, but I enjoyed watching the episode anyway.
What is exciting as a parent is not anything objectively exciting. "First" anythings tend to bring about some kind of emotion in me. Julia's first trip to the dentist made me feel proud ("What a big girl" "She's handling it so well") and sentimental ("What a big girl, I remember when her first teeth were just coming in.") Julia has been to the dentist with both me and Wayne. She's sat on my lap while I got my teeth cleaned (left her home for the route canal). After coming back from our dentist, she'd mention that she wanted to go to her own "little dentist." She's pretty serious about the whole thing, like it's a privilege or rite of passage (not exactly sure what's going on in her head). Anyway, it was a good first trip to the dentist. No crying. Healthy teeth, but instruction from her dentist that fruit snacks are worse for kids' teeth than most candies. Oops, we have since listened to the dentist and cut back dramatically from her one to two pack a day habit.

A Boy

We are expecting a little boy next March. Both Wayne and I did not feel a preference for boy or girl, but Julia was quite clear that she wanted the baby to be a girl. In fact, the only regret I felt at hearing the news was that Julia would not get her sister. And I guess a silly sentimental regret that I won't get the chance to re-use some of my favorite wardrobe of hers.

Despite Julia's protest, "But I wanted a sister!" she's very excited about having "our" baby. In the first month after we told her, Julia stated that her baby doll used to be in her tummy and now is a big girl. And now, Julia supposedly has another baby in her tummy just like me. We hope she will keep to her word about wanting to read and sing to the baby and to help hold and feed him. We're realistic though, especially in light of accounts from friends who have recently had their second that the first has asked to "bring the baby back" or be left at home during the next "family" visit to grandma's. We're pretty sure she's going to be a great big sister, even though it might mean dressing him up in girl clothes and being too motherly (a la Ruby, from Max and Ruby, if you watch Nickelodan) from time to time. As for us, we only figure we'll be able to survive having two little ones because other people do it. We're surely as competent as others, aren't we? In any case, it's the same reasoning we had when we had Julia and I think that for the most part, it held true. The excitement, love and fun will be worth the noise, worry and effort. That's our leap of faith.

Suburban Farming

From Wayne's efforts this past year, we have enjoyed strawberries, raspberries, blackberries, tomatoes, cucumbers, corn and carrots. The cherries are courtesy of a thirty-foot high cherry tree in our backyard.


The corn, which Wayne did not cultivate with any effort aside from planting seeds, was . . . interesting. Aside from the funny look, it tasted bean-y. If you crossed a lima bean and corn, this is probably what you would get. So if you wanted corn, you would not like Wayne's corn, but if you wanted bean-corn, this is the stuff.

When Wayne pulled up a carrot in August, it was about 2 inches long. Last week, he got better results. Julia ate them all.

She Wants Her Binky

Julia has been a binky baby. Sometime around 18 months, they no longer allowed binkies at school and Wayne and I followed their lead to banish the binky except for nap and bedtime. It was a rough couple of days and what I imagine to be akin to drug withdrawal (at the baby level). If you've never been close to someone with a binky addiction, you might not realize how serious it is. When Julia was still breastfeeding, she sometimes would stop, take a drag from her binky and then go back to feeding.

We've lived in harmony with the binky-only-in-bedroom arrangement for the past year and a half, but we'd been planning for the time to say good-bye to the binky forever. I'd read about strategies for getting kids to give up certain habits and settled on the binky fairy. The idea is that the "big girl" (or big boy) gives her binky to the binky fairy who will redistribute it to the babies of the world who truly need it. In exchange, the big kid gets a present and the good feeling of having been charitable. We've been telling her for the past few months that she would undergo this rite of passage when she turned 3.

At first, she thought that was fine, so long as the binky fairy would give the binkies back. When she understood that that was not the plan, she'd sometimes cry if we brought it up. Then she seemed to accept the idea and take comfort in the fact that she wouldn't turn 3 in awhile.

Julia just turned 3 this past Saturday. For the last several weeks, she's been more attached to the pacifier, sometimes excusing herself in the middle of the day to go up to her room and sit with one or even two binkies in mouth. If she could have articulated it, she would have said, "I don't have much time with them left. I just want to make every moment count." The day after her birthday, she just wanted to be with her binkies and seemed curious about why she still had them now that she was three. Before going out to a store, she said she wanted to give her binkies to the binky fairy. I felt unsure, but Julia was right, we needed to get over the dread. So we hung the binkies on our little dogwood and when we got back home, the binky fairy (one named Wayne) had left a bracelet/watch made of wooden beads and a rather wordy letter about how proud the binky fairy was of Julia, in their place. In good humor that lasted only for several minutes, Julia put the bracelet in her mouth.

Then she experienced buyer's remorse. This was hard for us too. As much as we want her to have good teeth and as much as we want her to be able to soothe herself without any props, it's not fun to take something away from your little girl that gives her so much comfort. And I was sentimental about saying good-bye to the binky and the little girl that needed them.

That night and the next were difficult. Whining about wanting her binky. Asking for a lollipop at bedtime. Crying and not going to sleep. The second night, I told her the binky fairy was in China and couldn't come back with her binkies, but we could sing about the binky. I sang the song that I used to sing in the morning to remind her to put the binky away before coming downstairs. To the tune of the restaurant Chili's advertisement for baby back ribs, it went, "Please put your binky back, binky back, binky back, please put your binky back, binky back binky back. Biiinnkkyy, oh binky back." She was amused, but then told me to stop singing that song. She requested that I sing a never-before heard song, "She Wants Her Binky."

It was two nights of pain, but she seems okay now. Older, wiser, 3.

Polite

Going through "old" video clips. This one from December 2007 is how Julia and Ralphie co-exist. I didn't realize how much her pronounciation has improved this year until looking back.

Princesses, Bad Mommies Part 2

There is a lot of the summer I would like to recap, but before I fall further behind, I just want to record two "events" of last week in which I suffered in my role as "bad mommy." (See entry on Princesses in Archive). First, Christina Aguilara's song, "Beautiful," comes on the radio and I think as I begin to sing along that it's never too early for Julia to learn the good message of this song. Julia learns no lesson, however, because she immediately begins strenuously objecting. Julia: "You're not beautiful. Princesses are beautiful."
Me: "But people who are not princesses can be beautiful too."
Julia: "You are a bad mommy. Bad mommies are not beautiful."

Second, in our inaugural playing of Candyland, I drew the Ice Cream Card (which, you might remember is a great card because it places you near the very end). Unfortunately, the new Candyland features pictures of Kings and princesses along with the candy and the Ice Cream Card also has a picture of a princess on it. Julia had seen that Ice Cream Princess Card before we even started playing and was hoping to draw it. When I pulled it from the deck, she assaulted me and started a mini-tantrum.

Julia: "You can't have that princess card. You're a bad mommy. I'm a princess. Waaauugghh."

We have a long way to go before we can play board games like regular people.

8 Adults, 4 Toddlers, 1 Teenager

all crammed into Wayne's parents' shorehouse for the July 4th Weekend. Someday soon, they will build an addition to the house. For now though, all 13 people survived, and happily so, sharing a 2-bedroom, 1 bathroom house for the weekend. In addition to Wayne's family, our sister-in-law's brother and family were visiting from out of the country.

Julia went out with Wayne on Baba's boat for some successful crabbing.



Julia the explorer, and looking the part. She loved stirring the water and sand with her shovel and called the whole process "Jelly Guppy." It makes no sense, but it sure is fun to say.


For the family album.



Aunt Rose, or GrandAunt Rose's house is very close to Nana and Baba's shorehouse. Can you believe they make such awesome play pools that you can purchase for your own backyard?




It was a very nice weekend, but I don't think we'll be doing the 13 people all together thing at once anytime soon.