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The plan is no plan...

This entry is not so much about my daughter Abby, to which this Blog was originally started, but instead about my first daughter Grace.  Some background is that Abby started daycare on Monday the 19^th of September and her daycare is one that is very close to my work.  As a result of the convenience and the available slots, Grace will be starting there on Monday the 26^th.  A short plug to say that Gentle Beginnings LLC was the perfect place for Grace during the first year of her life, and that it is only circumstance that has us moving the girls to a new organization. 

So this is Grace’s last week at GB LLC and Kristy has been taking her there each morning and picking her up each night, which relieved me of the task and the stress of the 50 minute commute.  I have been taking Abby to and from her daycare since its 5 minutes from my work and as a result have been getting to work on time, leaving after a full day and feeling less stress over the commute.  Life is going great.  The plan is in place and seems to be working.  One more week and both girls will be going to the same place making it even easier that it is right now.

And then divine intervention gave us an important lesson…”The plan is that there can be no plan.”

At lunch on the 20^th I received a call from Grace’s day care that she had an accident and got hurt.  Let me tell you now, and give you the spoiler, she is perfectly fine and we will all laugh about this in the near future (we are laughing about it a bit now in fact).  The short of it is that she was playing near an exer-saucer, pulling up to stand and doing all of the things that a normal 15-month old does, when another boy, who we will call Paul to protect his identity, came over and leaned on the same side of the toy toppling it over on her and he on top of the toy itself.  Needless to say, she had all of this on her face.  GB LLC was very upset, and after assuring them that, “this sort of thing happens”, it was recommended that I come and pick Grace up and take her to the doctor just to be sure that there was no real damage.  There wasn’t.

So the plan for the day was to go t work, spend the whole day focusing on the things that make us money and allow us to survive and instead I worked a half day, spent an hour at the doctor’s office between waiting and being seen, and now have a child that looks like Two Face from Batman.  Again, Grace is alright and has nothing but a bruise and a few abrasions that will fade over time and is in perfectly good spirits.  So much for that plan. 

The new measurement…

It is funny how when your kids are pulling up to stand that everything is measured in terms of arms length. 

Our daughter Grace, now almost 15 months of age is pulling up on everything but the kitchen sink (because it is still too high for her).  Part of our “baby proofing” measures have included soft bumpers around the coffee table, plug covers on the ones she can actually reach, and free standing gates (or as I like to call them – dog cages) around the living room so that we can contain her, somewhat.  Short side note on the gates: I felt very guilty when my wife and I bought them because I did not want to feel like we were putting our child in a dog pen, but I have to say that they are high enough, sturdy enough and rugged enough to be placed about the room and still allow her to have a large space to play in.

So now that the child is gated, and somewhat child proofed, the last thing we realized to do was to remove everything off the top of the coffee table.  On more than one occasion Grace has almost pulled a drink on the floor, grabbed dinner off our plates, and always grabs Abby’s things: burp cloths, bottles and pacifiers.  So now the table is barren with the exception of what we can place at the very middle of the opposite end where she, for now, can’t reach.

What’s next: measurement by height?

Valet almost drove off with my kids...

So the other day Kristy had her 6-week post partum appointment with the doctor that has delivered Abby.  The offices where this doctor works are connected to the hospital and conveniently placed near a parking garage.  Though the garage is only a few steps away, with two kids in tow, it is much easier to use the free valet service that they offer at that entrance of the hospital complex.  Did I mention that it is free?  They don’t even allow you to tip.  So Kristy sends me a text while in the waiting room of the office that begins like this:

Kristy: Lol the valet almost drove off with one of my kids!!
Kristy: I said hold on, just gotta get the kids outta the car
Kristy: And I think he thought I only had one
Jkaffko: LOL
Kristy: He started driving away and I banged on the car!!
Jkaffko: Too funny
Kristy: I hope I didn't scratch my new car!
Jkaffko: Did he feel bad?
Kristy: Yea he was like "oh my goodness I would have freaked out if I heard a little voice back there!"
Jkaffko: Hahahahahahahaha

I can’t imagine how that guy would have felt had he drove off to the garage only to discover that there was a 14 month-old in the back seat.  Had it been the Abby, all of 6 weeks, she may not have made a noise at all.  Clearly this story does not end in a horrific, “what if” because Kristy would have stood there until the valet strolled on back whistling and twirling her keys about his right index finger.  I can see it now, “hey mister, I have another kid in the car that you just parked.  Here is my ticket, do you mind bringing the car around?”

The poop chronicles…

Well for the first time, ever I think, I saw my wife reel back at the sight of a dirty diaper.  She is, and always has been, a trooper when it comes to pee and poop and vomit.  She works with the elderly and so these are part of the daily routine.  But today, we were running a little late and after a morning bottle Grace had a BM that rivaled all others.  Let me back up a bit...

Her normal daily routine is to have Kristy, or I, get her up at 6:30 am and give her a morning bottle.  After the bottle is a diaper change, change of clothes from the night time sleeper to the day time fashion and it is off to day care.  Lately, she has been getting to day care having made a BM in her pants on the 20 minute trip there.  It is never a big deal because she rarely poops out of her clothes.  On this day, we were running late, and the daily wake up started at 7:15 am.  And since you can set a clock to Grace’s BMs, she had one before I was able to get her out the door and on the road.  Kristy was the first responder to this massive event.  She opened up the diaper and I only had a glancing view of the situation and it did not look good.  And it was stinky.  Stinky like we never smelled before.  Kristy’s head snapped back and all I heard was, “Ugh.  Oh my…”  I being the nice guy offered to take over.  If it was making her almost gag, with all her bodily fluid encounters and work and being a 14 month seasoned parent, I knew that it must be bad.  She muscled through it and got the job done, but quickly passed the loaded diaper to me.  It must have been 2 pounds (exaggeration).

Ah parenthood, you never know what crap will come your way.

Eating Contest

Sometimes children and trying to manage all that they entail and all that you still need to do for yourself is like a carnival.  Lots of rides, many you have to pay extra, above and beyond your entrance fee, to enjoy and many distractions along the way.  One event is the pie eating contest.  More on that later.

Last night I decided to make tacos for dinner for Kristy and myself.  Something we have on a regular basis and is one of our favorite meals and has become very routine to make.  Prior to making our own meal, as is typical of our evenings, the kids get fed first.  Grace is still eating cereals and purees and is not feeding herself, so it is still very hands on.  I look forward to the day when we can feed her the same food that is on our plate and just hose her down when she is done.  I am sure that she will enjoy making messes of every meal.  Abby is, well, a 5 week old and is still completely dependent of us facilitating her meals.  So the kids eat before we even conceptualize making food for ourselves.  It used to be that around 3 pm Kristy and I would ask each other, “What’s for dinner tonight?” and we would have a plan in place.  Now it is what are we still up for making at this hour and many times the answer is a bowl of cereal.

So I make dinner and realizing that Kristy is only 20 minutes in to the usual hour long ordeal that is feeding Abby and I say, “Should I plate your food, or wait?  I don’t want it to get cold on you.”  That is a pet peeve of mine, letting freshly prepared hot food sit and get cold with no one to enjoy it.  She says to me that I should just eat and that I can hold Abby when I am done to give her a break and let her have her meal.  And the race begins.  I don’t know why, because it was never prompted for me to finish in a certain length of time, but I felt like I had just entered and eating contest and had to finish before everyone else.  Funny part is that I was competing against myself.  I ended up eating three LOADED tacos, two with a potent hot sauce on them, in less than 5 minutes.  I had a stomach ache and a whole mess of regret for having eaten like it was the first meal I ever had in a month.  What was I thinking?

I guess kids will do that to you.  You eat at separate times from them and your spouse, you act like every meal is your last and when all the smoke clears, you are left with taco sauce all over your face and no one to give you the first prize trophy.

The mind plays funny tricks when you have had little sleep…

It was early in the morning, I am not sure exactly when, but Kristy had gotten up to feed Abby.  The girl eats all the time.  Luckily, she is starting to show signs of 3 and 4 hour periods at night so if we share shift and do every other feeding, each of us can get a decent bit of sleep.  On this particular night I was especially tired and Kristy was going to do me the favor of all the feedings that night.  Well after feeding her for an hour and having Abby fuss for another 45 minutes, Kristy was at the end of her rope and I got up to comfort Abby so that Kristy could finally get back to sleep.  Honestly neither of us could tell if she was still hungry or just gassy and fussy, so I was prepared to do what it took to get her past it.

When I first got up, the time was 2:30 am, she did not seem particularly hungry so I reserved myself to just sitting in the arm chair next to her bassinet and waited her out.  Of course I drifted in and out of sleep but awoke at the slightest whimper.  When she would not stop fussing I held her belly down on my chest, a position she LOVES, and reclined the arm chair deciding to rest with her a bit.  Again I drifted in and out of sleep.  I was not sure how much time had passed but I found myself suddenly talking to my best friend from high school, Ley.  Keep in mind that I have been out of high school since 1989.  It seemed so real.  We were at my parent’s home in NY and I, still holding Abby on my chest as if by Velcro, was fully immersed in this alter-reality.  Ley and I decided that it would be a good idea to go out and get pizza, despite the hour.  In this dream it was also 2:30 am.  And so we left and we drove through the back roads of my home town searching for a place that would sell pizza at this crazy hour.  Again, it seemed so real.

I awoke for a small bit and repositioned Abby with her head to the other side, still belly down on my chest, and was immediately propelled back into the scene.  This time, the back roads of NY took us to the local roads that I now know, here in NH.  Just like that without travelling 5 hours to get there I was in a more familiar place.  At this point in the story, since Ley was following me in his car and I was driving separate, I had discovered that I lost him on the way.  Maybe too quick of a turn, a red light I made it through and he didn’t, but he was nowhere to be found.  With no best friend and no pizza shops open, I decided to head home.

Again I awoke, Abby was still content and I decided to change her position to holding her, cradle style, in my arm.  Closing my eyes it was now sunny and I was no longer driving a car, but peddling a bike up the bare rock face of a steep mountain.  For some reason there were at least 5 dogs all chasing me and nipping at my feet.  The baby was in the basket on the front of the bike, much like Toto to Dorothy in the Wizard of OZ.  My legs were killing me because not only was I peddling furiously to get away from the dogs, but was doing this without my hands on the handle bar.  After that I woke up with some leg cramps.  The time now was 4:00 am.  I ended up not needing to feed Abby at all and put her back in her bassinet where she rested soundly until morning.

Consequently I had pizza for lunch today.