Keeping One Abreast Would Make the World a Better Place

Happy Halloween! Our little pumpkin doesn't have an ear infection, just a head cold. That may be tickling or scratching her throat and/or ears. She did, however, receive a flu shot today. Daddy's really big on them. Mommy is not, but Daddy is the one who brought Brigid to the doctor's today, so he got to call the shots. hahahaha. I'm just glad she's not needing antibiotics again.

The girls are very excited to be heading out tonight for trick or treating, and I finally got Patricia's Cleopatra costume done. She wore it today at school for a parade. I'll be anxious to hear how it went. I have to pick up a new mirror for Margaret's costume. The other one broke (uhoh, seven years' bad luck. Great. Tack it on to the other decade we have left). And Brigid will be her little pumpkiny self. Should be fun. We go trick or treating over on Grace Avenue where Grandma and Granddad Downs live, visit with them for a few minutes then we'll head over to see Michelle for a few minutes and then on to Lois' house for the annual Halloween repast of little winnies, veggie dippers and cheese and crackers. Most of Lois' family haven't seen Brigid yet, so that will be a lot of fun introducing her around the room.

It's supposed to rain but not be too cold, so that's good. There's nothing like trick or treating in the cold rain, snow or worse. I used to hate having to hide my costume under my coat. What sense did that make?

Brigid's head cold isn't as bad today I think, but she's still had a tough time sleeping. It has to be hard for a little head to sleep when it's plugged up and you don't know how to clear it. We gave her some baby dimetap last night. I hope it helps.

We also introduced carrots last night to less-than-stellar results. She gagged on them. Even baby bananas couldn't make it right. So much for beta carotene. But they did create one incredible poop, however. I guess the era of breast-fed baby poop is over. It couldn't last forever. The world would smell so much sweeter if only.

What Do You Do With a Sick Pumpkin?

Brigid has a cold. A nasty, stuffy, runny, wet-faced cold. She started coming down with it the other day and this morning it's full-blown (or I wish it was blown. At least she'd be able to breathe!) Poor baby. Jack has the brunt of it this morning because we're finding she does not make the best patient when she's not feeling well. Last night, she really started having difficulty breathing and was sneezing a lot all weekend. She's glassy-eyed, and she's been batting at her ears, but she doesn't seem to have a fever. I'll have to monitor that to make sure it doesn't evolve into anything more serious. It's hard for her to nurse because she's having such a hard time breathing through her nose, so she's suffocating herself in her attempts to nurse.

I can't say I'm surprised she's not feeling well since I've been sick with a head cold myself. I am surprised it's taken her this long to come down with it. And Margaret and Patricia have both been sick with coughs and scratchy throats, so it was just a matter of time. But it's so hard with a baby because they can't tell you that they don't feel well. We just have to keep her hydrated and keep an eye on her temp.

In spite of the cold, we had a great time at Frances' Halloween party. And crisis was averted when we all came up with costumes. Patricia's Cleopatra costume will have to be unveiled on Halloween, but she ended up doing a unique turn as a Yankees fan, complete with pennant and her Build a Bear horse dressed in his Yankees outfit. We pulled a rabbit out of a hat with Margaret's costume. She wanted to be the evil queen from Snow White, so we went to the OLVA thrift store Saturday morning and found a dress that was perfect. A black head covering that is supposed to be for a ninja outfit worked as the hood she wears, and her magician's cape made it perfect. She carried a basket with shiny apples and a mirror. Jack looked great in his paddler's outfit. And I went as the World's Oldest Prom Queen in my red gown. The pumpkin of the family looked adorable as a pumpkin. I hope she can make her Halloween debut tomorrow night.

And the middle school dance was a success for Margaret on Friday. She and some friends danced and had a lot of fun. It was very well structured and monitored and the kind of atmosphere where the girls didn't feel like they were out of place if boys weren't asking them to dance. If only we could keep them that innocent.

Waiting on News from the Fish Under The Sea Dance

Today is Margaret's first school dance, held afterschool until 4:30 p.m. I don't suppose much can happen in the hour and half after school at a dance that's held in school, but she said her big crush may be there, and I would hate for her to be disappointed. I'd also hate for her to be elated (she is, after all, only in 6th grade). She's not sure what to expect, so we'll have to wait for a report.

I don't remember dances being held when I was in 6th grade, but my elementary school went up to 6th grade. We did have dances in junior high, but I only went to one of them as I recall, and it was abysmal. I hope her experience is better.

Patricia had a special day at school today, too. The elementary schools let out early today for some reason and instead of coming home at 11:30 a.m., they had the option to stay for a pizza-and-a-movie afternoon, getting out at the same time as they normally would, at 2:30. She was excited to do this. And one of the nice things about her going to Oak Street School is that it is only four doors down on the same side of the street so she can walk without problems. Heck, if she could climb the fence, she could climb over into our back yard. But we and the school frown on that.

This weekend is Frances' annual Halloween party to which we are all invited. Jack has his costume all set -- he's going as a kayaker. Patricia wants to be Cleopatra, and I've started her costume. It will be easy, but she also has a party tomorrow afternoon, before Frances' party, so I have to hurry to get hers done. Margaret wants to be the queen from Snow White and come with a basket full of apples. I don't know what I'm going to do with that one. Our little pumpkin, Brigid, is going to be a pumpkin. Her costume is pretty much done. But I don't know what I'm going to be. I'm always last-minute Mom. Patricia was worried the other day and I said, "Have I ever let you down?" She said, "No, but you're always doing things at the last minute." She has my number. We will succeed, though. It's my M.O.

Brigid, the little cutie pie, defied all the odds yesterday and took a two-hour nap. I think she only woke up because she heard Margaret and Patricia in the living room. She slept pretty well last night, too, having gone down at least for a few minutes in her crib. That didn't last long, but any time she spends sleeping in there is a success as far as I'm concerned. Jack said she slept well today so far, too. I honestly think she doesn't feel well, which would account for the naps. I think I spotted a corner of a tooth on her top gum last night when she was snoozing in my arms. I tried to pry her lips apart, and she kept stirring. But in the moment I was able to look, I think I saw the white corner of a tooth. It would explain a lot.

She's also doing a lot more moving around on her feet, up down up down or around and around the play pen, the crib, wherever. She wants to be on the go.

And sweet potatoes, btw, have been accepted. I wouldn't say they're a hit; I wouldn't say cereal is a hit. She's eating the stuff like she's been eating it her whole life. Just like everything else in her world. She takes it in stride and as though she has always done so. She looks at you like, "So, what's the big deal? It's solid food. And your point is?" Shs been interested interested in solids for so long, I think she just thinks it's part of the regular routine. The real test is: When do we start the Cheerioes?

If She Could Bat a Ball as Well as Her Ears, We'd Send Her To Detroit

Baby Brigid may have another ear infection if her batting at her ears is any indication. She was so cranky and out of sorts last night we gave her Tylenol just to see if it would help. If she continues to pull and bat at her ears, I'm afraid I'll have to take her in to have them take a look, but if I'm going to the trouble of bringing her into the pediatrician's office, I might as well make her life as miserable as possible and really give her something to cry about by getting her the flu shot at the same time. I'm dreading the flu shot thing with the other two girls as well. Jack is convinced I've poisoned them against shots. And that may be true. But they hurt. I'm not going to lie to them and tell them a shot doesn't hurt. But it also doesn't mean I won't do what I can to make it more acceptable to them, like using numbing cream on the area. If such a thing is available, why not use it?

Brigid continues to baffle me in her ability to function without sleep. Or at least without quality sleep. Her naps are sporatic. She fights them tooth (or two teeth) and nail. Going to bed at night is a challenge as always. You'd think she'd just drop over from sheer exhaustion. I know I want to.

Just for the record, Brigid's vocabularly includes: mum mum mum, mah mah mah, dah dah (occasionally), bah bah bah, nah nah and nuh nuh nuh, and, what we swear sounds an awful lot like kitty.

Yesterday when I got home from work, she was happy to see me and wanted to nurse but when Patricia walked in from school, Brigid just quaked with excitement. She was so happy to see her sister. The same was true when Margaret came home. She loves her big sisters. And they truly love her.

Taken On Face Value it Was a Pretty Hard Fall

Our Baby B had a face plant yesterday that was second to none so far and it took me a long time to calm her down. She was crawling around the living room, which we've now equipped with a gate across the entrance to the TV area. The playpen serves as another barrier and it was to this structure that she was crawling. She started to pull herself up on the outer mesh of the pen and began to slide her hand to the corner support post of the pen when she slipped and came down, hitting her face on the post. It hit her square down the middle of her face from forehead to jaw. I was right next to her, sitting on the floor, and I couldn't prevent it. Her cries were so high-pitched, I knew this wasn't just a boo-boo kind of cry. I tried comforting her, but she kept pushing away as I held her. Finally I realized she wanted real comfort, so out popped the boob and she settled down to a fitful nursing session, wimpering on and off until, like a jack-in-the-box, she popped her head back up and was all smiles again. The medical community could take a page or two out of Brigid's book. All they need is to find some lactating women who will serve as their beck-and-call girls. Nursing soothes the savage, breast.

Brigid's trauma was soothed sans medical intervention, but Margaret has been experiencing some symptoms of a UTI, so we went to Dr. Chaskey's office for a urine test and sure enough, it came back positive for bateria. She's on a sulfa drug, which I had to fill at the pharmacy across from their dance class since the appointment was just before they had to be at jazz class. Dr. Chaskey said he didn't have any samples in the office that she wasn't allergic to. I hope this drug isn't among them, too. I'm allergic to sulfa drugs, so I'll be keeping a close eye on her for hives. As a result of the impromptu visit to Chaskey's office, the girls, including Nicole, had little time at the house to do homework. I had them bring their homework to the doctor's office where they were able to finish it while we waited the results of Margaret's culture. Then we hightailed it to the pharmacy and then across the street to jazz class. After jazz class, we picked up the prescription then home for dinner. Brigid was in a good mood through most of this, having spent most of the jazz class crawling around the floor of the waiting room. She then settled down for a nursing session that led to a nice, long nap.

I think she may be working on top teeth because the drool quotient is up considerably and her gums look pretty squishy. And she's been mouthing her hand a lot more AND is very restless at night. Last night she was up a lot. I had a hard time getting up this morning, but I left her sleeping like, well, like a baby.

Sometimes It Pays to Stay In Bed if You Can

Well, we've got Margaret using her 110 Flovent inhaler again because her peak flows are falling and she's coughing so much. I hope this prevents a trip to the doctor and a flare-up of her asthma since she was doing so well, but it pretty much follows a typical pattern: a month into school, she starts coughing again. No wonder since schools rarely vacuum out the vents and so forth and there is umpteen years of crap built up in them that the kids are breathing in. Plus, it's cold season, so anyone with a compromised system to begin with is susceptible. I've been fighting something myself ... kind of a sinus infection-feeling cold with sore throat. And Baby B was tugging a lot at her ear yesterday. I'm hoping she doesn't have another ear infection.

Yesterday was a dark, sleepy day and Brigid snuggled up with me for a long afternoon nap, which I think we both needed. I could have stayed in bed with her all night but I had to get up and get Margaret to her religion class for 5 p.m. Patricia, Daddy, Baby Brigid and I had leftovers for dinner and Margaret dined on pizza with her religion class and thanks to Michelle, I didn't have to drag the baby out into the cold rainy night to pick her up again. The World Series is in full swing, and Brigid and I watched it last night while we waited for Daddy to come home from work. For the record, the series is tied one-one between the Cardinals and Tigers. Brigid seems to be interested in the TV at times when there is some action going on. We have been avoiding letting her watch TV for real because she shouldn't be getting into the habit so soon. In fact, recent research suggests babies as young as two years old may be too young for TV, so we're trying not to let her get mesmerized by the tube too young. But the World Series is on.

With a Nod Toward Dylan, The Baby She is A'Changing

OK, so the thing is, Brigid likes to be held. And I like to hold her. So sue me. She's a cuddly, sweet-smelling (most of the time) cutie pie who would much rather be with you than in her crib or playpen. And that's OK, because in a very short amount of time, she's not going to be able to be held and cuddled and played with in the same way that she is now. In a few short years, she's going to be going to school, and will have outside interests and will think boys are cute and Harry Potter is real and Breyer horses are the best thing in life next to the real thing, and Mom and Dad aren't too embarassing (yet!). She'll graduate from saying bah bah bah ayeeeeee ayeeee a-dah a-dah muh muh muh to No! No! No! and I AM coming, (or going to or doing it or whatever you've asked of her). And hopefully, interspersed will be plenty of I love yous (or I wuv yous) to tide you over until the next one comes out of her mouth. And all of this is because last night she wouldn't go to sleep in her crib no matter how many time I tried placing a sleeping Brigid down. She'd wake up, look around like she was in a dream, then realization would replace foggy haze in her eyes and she was up. It's not until we're going to bed for the night, with the Baby B between us, that she surrenders to sleep, because that is how it's supposed to be in her world. Mommy, Baby Brigid and Daddy, in that order, in bed. How dare we try to suggest otherwise. What were we THINKING? So I snuggled next to her as she faded off to sleep and tried to get some sleep myself until the next waking, which, last night, was about two hours later, and two hours after that, and so on until she was up earlier than usual this morning at 8:30.

Introducing cereal and juice has been successful at dinner time but it's not been the amazing experience designed to fill her up and keep her content that you read about. She's happy to eat along with us, opening her mouth at the right moment for the spoon bowl to enter. She does it automatically like she's been doing it for months. But then she's happy to latch onto the boob not long after because THAT's the real deal. And I'm not complaining because to me, it's the real deal, too. But feeding her at the dinner table gives us all something in common, and I think that works.

Margaret isn't feeling well and was coughing like crazy this morning. Her peak flow last night was at 250, which isn't her highest but isn't in the basement, either. However, with her highest and recently consistent attempts being at 280 or 290, then a 250 is a significant drop, one we have to keep an eye on. I expect she'll be back on her inhaler for a while. She had been doing well and was even off it for most of the summer. But then, Patricia has been plagued with coughing and sore throats this week, and I'm on the verge myself. I hope it's just a bug passing through.

Margaret was thrilled yesterday to have had a short lesson on the flute with Mr. Rabideau when she went to see him after school about setting up her first lesson. He showed her how to blow, how to put the instrument together and not clasp down on it too hard as to bend the valves. She is so careful, especially since it's been lovingly lent to her by Michelle. Her first lesson is a week from today. It's not going to be an easy instrument to master, but she's excited and as a result, so are we.

A Nap Would Do Us All a World of Good

Well, Daddy just reported that Baby B, in the backpack, has learned how to pull hair. Maybe she thinks it's like a mane and you hold on to it for stability. Our Baby Brigid is no dummy. It's fun to see what she's learned and how fast she developes. She certainly knows her name and turns to you when you use her name. She is also finding her center of gravity and is letting go of the sides of the crib to stand. She knows she's doing something important, too, because she'll look at you with this look, a mixture of amazement and smugness as if to say, "See me? I'm cute AND I'm smart." Her crusing is gaining momentum, at least around the rails of the crib. She seems to enjoy being in there for play; it's the sleep we're having trouble with. She'll not seem to mind going in the crib for a nap in the afternoon or morning. But at night, she won't spend more than a few minutes asleep in its confines, almost as though she is aware it may mean she's in there for the duration. Last night, she was going to have none of it. She was happy to climb on both her parents and generally keep them awake until she flopped down, rooting and butting her head against me until she settled in happily and fell asleep. She slept in this morning and was happy enough to take a ride with Daddy to visit Mommy at work and go to the bank. I'll be home soon so we'll see if the mood continued.

Margaret and Patricia continue to be somewhat under the weather. Margaret wasn't feel well at all this morning but she bucked up and went to school. I hope it isn't something that will require a doctor's visit, because if it is, we're going to have to consider the possibility of a flu shot at the same time, and that won't be well received at all. Patricia's is a cough, but she's prone to post-nasal drip. If we can keep her dry on benadryl or dimetap, we'll do OOk. But we may all be headed down that slippery slope: Daddy said he wasn't feeling well this morning. I think what we all need is a good, uninterrupted 10-12 hours of sleep.

There's No Friend Like an Old Friend

The jazz class for the girls is going well, considering neither Margaret nor Patricia ever had a jazz class in their life. Their years in tap are paying off because unlike many of the other girls in their class, they have rhythm and can count. When Miss Susan says jump to the left, they know instinctively that means turning toward your left side. Several of the poor souls in the class stare vacantly straight ahead and jump, neither to the left nor the right, leaving Miss Susan frustrated and wondering if she should be investigating a different line of work. But for my money, I'm thrilled the girls are happy in class because it's great exercise for them and because it's fun, they're not aware that it's great exercise.

Speaking of exercise, Baby Brigid has been getting hers, pulling herself up, walking along the sides of the crib, pulling herself up in the playpen and on just about anything else she can grab a hold of. She bounces and throws herself all over the place, usually letting out squeals of delight at the same time. I'm just worried she's going to give herself whiplash one of these days.

We marked another milestone yesterday with the introduction of cereal. We gave Baby B some rice cereal at dinner last night and although she was a little unsure at first, she soon began instinctively opening her mouth for the spoon to accept the gruel. She didn't seem overly excited or surprised. It almost seemed alike a totally normal, everyday thing to her. She was surprised at the introduction of white grape juice in a sippy cup, though, and I don't know if that was as successful. So much for the big production of introducing solids. She's beyond that. And as far as Brigid was concerned, I think she was just as happy to get back to her dear old friend, the boob.

Who's Mommy's Little Piggy?

Brigid has been working on perfecting her hand-clapping technique and will often bring her paddies together when you cheer, "Yay!" at her. She thinks this is hysterically funny. Her other amusing trick continues to be the snuffing of the nose, which she does on cue if you do it to her. This cracks her up nonstop. She makes us so proud.

Last night Brigid popped back up when I tried putting her in the crib but she was so sleepy, she kept bobbling around and really lunged at me, trying to find the boob. She comes at me like a suckling pig trying to find its special teat. She rams her head into my arm, my side, she clambers up on top of me and pushes her forehead into my chest. She is a baby on a mission that will not be thwarted. Last night, like the previous few, she would wak every hour, hour and a half, just to nurse briefly before flinging herself back again into a deeper sleep. I saw my doctor this morning and asked what she thought might be giving me a headache every morning. Her answer: not sleeping every night.

Margaret and Patricia both have been under the weather lately with coughs and congestion. But Margaret perked up a little last night when she came home fro her religious education class with a flute (thank you, Michelle). She's so excited, she's afraid to bring it to school. I told her she was going to have a hard time taking lessons if she didn't hav the flute with her. I pick her up this afternoon for an orthodontist appointment. She gets to have them put on black and orange brackets for the Halloween season. Oooh, spooky.

I wanted to take a moment to say our thoughts and prayers go out to my family in the Buffalo area hit by Thursday-Friday's snow storm. My brother, David, said it's like the ice storm we suffered in 1998. I saw the pictures of the trees in Mom's yard. It looks awful. We're thinking of you.

The Applause Sign is On and Brigid is Replying

Brigid has passed another milestone this weekend with the connection of hand upon hand, she has learned how to clap. It's not a loud, thunderous smacking. They just touch eachother in succession, but it counts. She was sitting in the alumni office at work on Natalie's lap during a staff baby shower for Sarah on Friday and Brigid brought her hands together a couple of times. I looked quickly at her but she stopped. She didn't repeat it again until Saturday when she and I were in Burlington, but she certainly clapped. I cheered, she smiled and did it again, and again. She repeated it several times today as well. So, she's begun clapping. We're so proud. ;)

Brigid has been having some wakeful nights the last few nights. She has actually started the night in her crib asleep, but that doesn't last very long. She wakes, is very put out that we've even considered leaving her in the crib, and then she falls asleep between us just long enough for me to drop into a deep sleep. Then she wakes, wants to snack and starts pulling on me, pulling my arm, my sleeve, whatever she can grab. She'll try pulling herself up onto me as well if I don't respond quickly enough. I'll feed her for a few minutes, she'll then pull herself away and flop back down on her back, arms splayed out, fast asleep. Of course, I'm sure she's not even really awake, just used to the snack time. It's one more thing we'll be able to address when she finally moves into her own room, but when that will be who knows.

Grin and Bare It

Well, yesterday I got up to find that Margaret had left her watch on the breakfast counter. Not wanting her to have that weird I-forgot-my-watch feeling every time she looked at her wrist, I brought it to her on my way in to work. After getting through the bullet-proof/speaker-box security system at Stafford Middle School, I left the watch with the front desk. The woman said she'd call Margaret down between classes, which was fine. But as I turned to go, I noticed a group of students in the cafeteria and one of them was Margaret. I retrieved the watch and went to hand it to her in person only to find her sitting at one of the tables with two boys hanging on every word she seemed to be saying. She was beaming and when she saw me, she was very happy and waved. I handed her the watch. She was all smiles and girl-crush-like giggles. Not wanting to embarass her with a kiss goodbye, I waved, said I'd pick her up after school and left with a pit in my stomach and the hair standing up on my arms. Hooboy, what's going on. The first time she's in public school after years in parochial school and she's boy crazy. We should have seen it coming, considering there were only three boys in her class at St. Peter's. Now they're all over the place. We told her there is no dating in junior high and she can consider boys as friends in groups, not friends by themselves. She keeps asking questions like, "When are you old enough for your first kiss?" 26. "Is it hormones that makes you like boys?" No, stupidity. "How come I get all giggly and gushy when I'm around (boy's name left out to protect the guilty)?" Because boys make you do stupid things. I don't know how much of this we can take, and she's only in 6th grade.

Patricia, on the other hand, is agog about a boy in her class (fourth grade!) but she's pretty open to other romances, also, because several of the boys are cute, she says. Oh, great. I can only imagine what the next few years will be like for Patricia.

Brigid, on the other hand, has shown no preference for any boys but her Daddy, which is how it should be until the girls are about 28. Her crawling has been getting more steady and more directed. She has it in her mind that she wants to crawl into the area of the living room where the TV is, hardwood floor and all. I've ordered a saftey gate to put across the doorway there so she can't get away. Cruising the furniture is next. She has successfully circumnavigated the crib hand over hand, foot over foot. Can the rest of the house be far off?

She's also been changing some sleeping habits of late, waking frequently to nurse and flop back to sleep. I don't even think she really wakes up, but she lets out a high-pitched wail and I don't want her waking up Daddy. She isn't content to let me take my time to undo the clasp on the bra, either. She wants to help to get things moving. She grabs the clothing, pulls herself onto me. It's funny, really, but it just bogs down the whole process.

I'm feeling a bit fluish today. I also think I may have developed mastitis, thanks to the Hoover who sleeps between us. If I have a fever with it, that would explain the achiness and flu-like feeling. If it doesn't resolve itself in a day, I have to call the doctor because it can be serious. In the meantime, I'm grimacing with the slightest pressure on my left side. As I understand it, you have to grit your teeth and bear it or it will also affect the milk supply if you favor the side and NOT use it. Such is the cross a lactating mother bears.

Cruising the Furniture Beats Cruising Bars

Well, Baby Brigid has learned a few new tricks that she has been happy to repeat like the trained monkey she is. Over the last week, she began saying bah bah bah bah bah indiscriminately and over the weekend added mah mah mah mah mah as well, so her vocabularly is now: Bah Bah Bah mah mah mah, blah blah and an occasional dah dah dah but not very often. Interspersed between the consonant-vowel combination she ga-gas and coos and generally melts our hearts with her babbling and squealing. The other new tricks she learned over the weekend involve smacking her lips like kissing and snuffling her nose, making sniffing sounds. It cracks me up, which makes her do it even more.

Brigid's pulling up to her feet has now evolved into tentative steps of crusing the furniture. Yesterday, she was moving her hands to the side, then one foot slowly moved to her right, then the left followed, her hands slid sideways, then her right foot, left foot and so on for about three feet. She seemed to grasp the significance of the development because she squealed with delight and bounced up and down for a minute, then continued the move until she must have had enough. She slowly squatted down and sat down. That lasted for 30 seconds because she was on her feet again immediately. She knows what those things at the end of her legs are for, aside from grabbng and eating when she is either nursing or being changed.

The girls spent the weekend at the lake with Grandma and Granddad Downs and had some glorious fall weather in which to play and ride. Jack and I went up with the baby on Monday to spend the afternoon and have dinner before gathering up the girls' things and heading back home. They had yesterday and today off for the Columbus Day/superintendent's day holiday. Before we arrived Monday afternoon, Grandma had introduced trespassing to the girls, having taken them on a reconnaissance mission to Camp Chateaugay, which is closed for the season. They spent the afternoon peeking into windows and inspecting the grounds, unaware that workmen were there and watching them. But the workmen were good-nautred and told them to have fun. That took the fun out of the whole felonious activity so they came back home. The girls then went on a ride with Daddy, and then Daddy, Margaret and I went on a ride. It was fun and quite lovely. Meanwhile, Grandma was left at the camp to mind Brigid. The two were none the worse for wear when we returned. A great Granddad dinner followed and then we were off back to Plattsburgh.

Brigid had a relatively placid evening, nursing and sleeping through most of it and she slept fairly welll throughout the night, waking briefly a few times to nurse and then fling herself back onto her back asleep again. She was very good natured when I left for work this morning. I hope the trend continues. Jack was going to take the girls out geocaching. We'll see if they manage their goal.

Counting Our Little Blessings, Wherever We Find Them

(sorry you have to turn your head sideways on this photo)
Well, our little Baby B has changed from an adoring, smiling-at-anyone kind of baby to a suspicious, scrutinizing and discriminating child in the space of a couple weeks. Stranger anxiety and suspicion has replaced widespread acceptance and congeniality. People walk up and coo and talk to her, and she gives them a once-over glance. She was cool to Grandma Downs, who recently returned from the British Isles and stopped by yesterday for a visit. Jack said she was not her usual smiley self. Of course, she hadn't seen her grandma in a month, and to a baby who is only 6 and a half months old, that's an eternity.

The day before yesterday, Brigid barely slept a wink. Yesterday, she took three good, long naps, most likely making up for lost time. She even slept a little last night before Jack got home from work. He then had her in bed while I was getting ready for bed and I heard her, crying bloody hell. I went in and she was sitting there, screaming in his face. I said, "Hey, what's this?" and she turned to me, all smiles, like, "Mommy's back. Yay!" She definitely has her preferences when push comes to shove. Part of me gets all warm inside, but the other part of me knows she needs to do what Daddy tells her, too.

Today was parents lunch at Oak Street so I met Patricia for lunch, or I should say for a brief exchange before recess. I got there early so I sat out in the lobby of the school waiting for her class to come by. When they did, I went with them to the line and it was with military precision that the kids got their trays and orders taken care of. The gym, where they eat, was chaos and the kids were shoveling in their lunch in order to be ready to line up when the monitors called their class to leave for recess. So the visiting part of lunch was limited to brief hellos, a few words between bites of pizza and then a quick, "That's our class! Bye, Mom!" It was all over in aout 15 minutes. But I think she was glad I was there. There weren't many parents there. It's the little things that count.

Maybe if She Actually Drank the Beer it Would Help


Had some trouble with the Blogger site yesterday and couldn't post. But it was another Jenny-less day, so Daddy had to be creative in what he was going to do with all Brigid, all the time. He decided to make beer.

Now, unlike making, say, bread, which smells wonderful as it bakes, brewing beer, well, it just stinks. It's been known to throw our first-born into a full-blown migraine. What it seemed to do to Baby B was put her to sleep, so at least Jack was able to do his work without hopping up his youngest daughter too much. However, and I don't know if there is any connection, Brigid then refused to sleep at all the rest of the day. She was tired. She was wobbly. She even fell asleep while nursing. But she refused to nap at all in the conventional sense. I tried several times after getting home from work to get her to sleep, but she seemed content to doze on boob and spring wide away when off. Forget trying to put her down in the crib. She's awake and having none of it. She did fall asleep briefly in the carrier after I dropped the girls off at dance and ran up to get a few groceries, but not until she cried and carried on at the store. I had to carry her, push the cart and power shop at the same time. When I had to put her down in the carrier in order to take the stuff out of the cart to be run up, she threw a fit. I got her in the car and returned to pick up the girls just as she dropped off, which means she slept about 10 minutes because I had to take the car seat out, carry it down to the dance studio, get the girls amid the screaming, very-loud-mouthed classmates, and return to the car. Oh, it was raining and very, very windy, too, so that contributed to Baby B's comfort. No, she woke soon after getting home. I put her in her PJs and she proceeded to nurse exclusively until Jack got home from work. She sat for a while but wasn't herself. She was whinny and grumpy, but when we went to bed, she was raring to play and spent 10 minutes happily tugging at Daddy's goatee and pulling his moustache hair. If you think that feels good, let me clue you in: It doesn't. Brigid, however, was enthralled. She did manage to sleep better last night, albeit between us. But she was up earlier than normal again this morning. She will usually sleep until 8:45 or 9 a.m. but the last couple of mornings she was awake about 8 or so and that throws off her nap schedule and everything else about her day.

Meanwhile, the other girls were having an off day yesterday, too, because for some reason, they woke up at 1 a.m. and thought it was time to get up. Both of them got dresed and came down to a pitch-dark living room, worried that the alarm didn't go off in their parents' room. Well, it didn't. It was 1 a.m. They realized their faux pas and returned to bed. Patricia, when asked later about the mistake, didn't think it was funny, although she did then say if you think of it later it could be construed as being funny. We have no idea why they thought it was time to get up at 1 a.m. We may never know.

It's Exhausting Just Reading About Her

No Jenny again yesterday or today. She was substitute teaching and has to take the jobs so she can earn her hours for certification. We certainly can't blame her -- this is her career she's working on and babysitting, at least for Jenny, is more of a hobby than a career, although it's been her career for the last 12 years. No Jenny means Daddy has his day of Baby Brigid. They took a marathon walk yesterday and are probably doing the same now as I write this. Brigid does well when she's mobile and has things to look at if she hasn't fallen asleep. If she's not moving, she wants to be out and about, either in your arms or on the floor. She was sleeping when I left for work yesterday morning and in the crib having a nap when I got home. But she woke up in a sleepy but happy mood. Patricia was at chorus after school, so I was able to feed Brigid in relative quiet until I had to leave to pick up Margaret at school. We returned in time for Patricia and her friend, Nicole, to come home. They have time to do their homework and play a little before getting ready for jazz class. The girls had a better class this week, I think in part because they had their new shoes. But like anything, it takes time and the more classes they have under their collective belts the better they'll do and better they'll feel. Patricia is so hard on herself, she thinks she has to master something immediately. Last week she was in tears after calss.This week was a little better. And because many of the steps are ones I've already done in my own classes, I can help them with their routines.

Brigid crawled around the waiting room of the new studio while the girls were dancing. She was tired, but didn't want to be held. She just wanted to be down. Everyone oohed and ahhed at her as she worked the room. But her four-month-old-baby smiles have disappeared. She's much more discerning about who she grants a smile and who just gets a wary stare. No amount of coaxing can lure a smile out of her if she doesn't want to smile. I always feel I have to apologize to people when she won't smile. Actually, she's probably just a good judge of character.

After jazz class, we had leftovers for dinner and Brigid slept for most of the dinner hour, but she woke near the end and wanted to eat. I fed her, but she's becoming much more interested in what's happening on the table. She wants to be involved with what's going on around her. The girls and I played with her on the floor in the living room when Jack went back to work and that seemed to tire her out. She was ready to nurse herself into a stupor but refused to let me put her down. So while the girls went upstairs to put on their PJs and play with their Breyer horses in their room, I gave Brigid a bath and put her in her snuggly PJs. She was very calm and happy. The girls went to bed, but Patricia insists on coming up with projects either right before bed or right after beeing sent to bed. Last night, she determined she had to photocopy recipes from two books that had to go back to the library today. I told her to do it quickly and then get to bed. She was then determined to insert them in her Kids Cook book, but I told her that could wait until today. She went up, in protest. I fed Brigid on and off until bedtime, and she did go down in her crib, but she didn't stay in it long, maybe 20 minutes, before waking again, angry and annoyed at my attempt to force her to sleep under such inhumane conditions. She did fall asleep quickly between us, but again, every couple of hours she would wake, root around and then pass out after a little nosh. She was asleep again as I left for work this morning, having had a snack about 8 a.m. But she's such a cute peanut, I'm torn between wanting her to be independent and wanting her to cling to me forever.

Margaret has her first karate class among the teens today and as a brown belt. It should be interesting for her. Her other class had a lot of little kids in it. Now she'll be among kids closer to her own age and rank.

Without Jenny, our day will be a little hectic. I have a staff meeting at 1 p.m. from which I'll have to leave in order to be home in time for Jack to get to work; Margaret gets out at 2 p.m. today so will walk to the library so I don't have to rush over to pick her up; Patricia gets home at 2:30. I'll have to leave her to pick up Margaret and then get home so she can get her gee on and then head over for her 4 p.m. karate class. Dinner at 5:30 p.m. Whew. It makes me exhausted just looking at it.

You Can Get Anything You Like At Mommy's Restaurant

Brigid has this look ... it's hard to explain, but she bites her lower lip with her upper lip and then gives a wry smile, sometimes raising her eyebrows at the same time. It's very self-satisfied and smug almost, but it's do darned cute. She's been doing it for the last few days. She has also taken to using some kind of high-pitched, whale siren noise neither Jack nor I remember the other two girls ever using. She amuses herself doing it, so she does it all the time, along with her other babble language.

Pulling up seems to be the motive for any movement these days. She'll crawl to something in order to pull herself up. All other movement is useless if it doesn't achieve this goal. And yesterday she was taking tentative steps to cruise the crib. She was also showing off, holding on to the crib rail with one hand. At six and a half months, the kid is in too big a hurry to be mobile. Everyone keeps saying it's because she has to keep up with her sisters, but I think she's just naturally in a hurry.

Last night she didn't go to sleep in the crib, although not from lack of trying. Twice she fell asleep on the boob and I tried transferring her but she woke up angry and annoyed that I would even try such a thing. When we did go to bed and had her in the bed between us, it's as if she knows this is her place, where she is supposed to be, and if I don't produce the sleep-inducement item, ie, the boob, she becomes aggitated and offended. She gets very frustrated and starts rooting around all over the place, grabbing my nightgown and pulling herself to me. If she wasn't so angry, it would be funny. But then she'll fall asleep and flop herself down on her back, arms splayed out, as if in defeat, sound asleep. For about two hours. Then she rolls over, grabs me and starts the process all over again. Like I said, it could be funny....

Margaret and Patricia spent the weekend snipping and snarling at each other. Everything was an argument, that is, when they weren't playing and laughing uproariously with one another. A curious dynamic exists between them. They are their own best friends and worst enemies. But yesterday was the worst. Lots of drama and arguing. I think they were tired and it wasn't a good day so we didn't do much outside. I hope today is better. They have jazz, which they seem to enjoy and now that they have their jazz shoes I'm sure they'll enjoy it more.

Oh, big news to post: Margaret tested for and earned her third-degree brown belt (the first of three brown-belt ranks before black belt) on Friday. She was so proud, and so were we. She's come a long way.