She Should Join the Pipefitter's Union

Brigid had an unusual day yesterday nap-wise. Her usual schedule goes something like this: She wakes up in the 5-6 a.m. range and comes in with us where she has some boob and falls back to sleep until about 8 a.m. She'll get up and run around for a while before Daddy gives her breakfast. They dance and play and read until 10 a.m. when it's time for Sesame Street. She'll watch pretty well as long as the action keeps changing, but sometimes Sesame Street gets a little "talky" and then she loses interest. But usually, she's good until 11 a.m. when Daddy gives her her first lunch, often a scrambled egg and some toast and fruit. He then works at getting her to take a nap. After she wakes up from her nap, she gets lunch No. 2. They'll play outside or go for a walk or any number of fun activities until I come home. Then I play with her until the girls come home from school. Then we all play with her or engage her in some way. She'll have a snack when the girls do after school. We have dinner and will play and dance some more before bathtime and then it's boob time for a while before she goes to bed.

Pretty simple day with variations depending on what's going on. But yesterday she refused to take a nap for Daddy. She just refused even though she was also dosed up with benadryl for her stuffiness. By the time I got home from work, she was flopping all over but even gave me a hard time about napping until finally, with the help of the boob, she fell asleep about 2 p.m., much later than normal, and then work up about 40 minutes later. She's never been a two-nap kid, nor has she been much of a long one-napper either. I know people who have kids who take two-hour naps every afternoon. Brigid has never been one of them. Margaret would nap like that; Patricia napped pretty regularly until she was about two and then forget it. But Brigid has never had that kind of napping longevity. When she does nap later, it screws up the evening routine so at 9:30 I was still trying to get her to bed. Finally got her down at 10 p.m. And she was tired. Didn't hear a peep out of her until after 6 a.m.

Today she and Daddy spent the morning shopping for a toilet. What fun! Our tenant's toilet needs to be replaced, so Daddy and Baby B got to play plumber. Hopefully it will be an easy installation and not an all-day project. She won't be at his elbow helping this time, however. Brigid isn't at the age yet when she can "help" with projects. She'd just run around Kathy's apartment and torment her cats or fall down the stairs. So she'll have to wait before she becomes Daddy's Little Helper.

One fun thing I did with Baby B yesterday was let her play in some uncooked rice (she saved the cooked rice to play with at dinner time). I was having her help me make rice for dinner, and when she plunged her hand into the cup of uncooked rice, I figured she'd have more fun with her own rice than that which I was planning to cook. I poured a cup of rice into a box and she swished it around, dumped it around, and generally made a grand mess on the kitchen floor. She has had a fascination with texture she can run her hands over. When she's outside, she'll squat down in the grass and rub her hands over the grass or the dirt or the sand from ant hills she comes across. So the rice was just a natural extension of that sensation. Makes me think I'll look for a good bin to turn into a rice box for her to continue such exploration of tactile experiences. Of course, it also means I'll be sweeping up rice for days on end, but it's a small price to pay for a few minutes of uninterrupted play by the baby, which translates into a few minutes of uninterrupted time to read the paper. Life is a series of tradeoffs.

Sinking Our Teeth into a Future of Orthodontia

Well, as expected, Patricia's mouth is feeling better all the time and she's getting used to having her teeth tethered in tin. Meanwhile, Dr. Thomson told Margaret it won't be long now for her braces. We'll then have to make the big decision regarding her implant. Margaret was born missing a tooth. One of her baby teeth came in as a splt tooth -- one root that split at the gumline and looked like two little teeth. But the space it took up was where two teeth would normally come down. So instead of having 22 teeth as a young child, she had 21. That caused shifting and a challenge for the orthodontist. Her braces created a space for a permanent implant. There are a few choices; we just have to decide the best course of action. And that decision is made in conjunction with the orthodontist and her dentist.

Patricia's situation isn't missing teeth. It's crowding and a bit of an overbite. The bite isn't noticeable, as in what everyone commonly called "buck" teeth. But her top teeth do come over the bottom more than Dr. Thomson would like. But she still has a few permanent teeth that need to come down and there's not a whole lot of room available. So her braces will be on closer to three years. We can only imagine what's in store for Baby Brigid. Never having endured braces myself, I have no idea what it's like to have that mouth full of metal, but the girls are and have been enduring it with great aplomb.

Speaking of teeth and Baby Brigid, I think she's cutting another tooth -- a molar possibly -- which has caused her some crankiness, lots of gumming of her fist and some considerable drool. Could be the cause of her runny nose, but if the boogies are any indication, I still think she has a cold. Lots of mining going on up there as we try to chip away at the stalactites hanging from the roof of her nostrils.

Yesterday was a good day Baby B-wise, although she was very tired near dinner time. It's just as well she didn't get a nap in because Jack tried using a new-to-us bread machine in the hopes of making pizza dough for dinner but instead he got pizza dough bread so we all went out for pizza. Brigid managed to eat a good portion of a slice. She just worked away at it in her fist, taking chomps out of the crust, the cheese, the broccoli that managed to stay glued to the cheese. One thing we've realized is this kid does not like milk, at least of the bovine variety. Although she's still nursing and eats a lot of yogurt, this could be problematic. Her brain development, which has proven to be pretty significant, does indeed need the fat found in whole-milk products. I'll have to confer with her pediatrician to see what he recommends for a kid who shows no interest in what we all take for granted as a kid-friendly beverage. I'd better get mooo-ving on that one.

Blown Fuses Make for Unstable Surroundings

Well, we're the proud owners of a 2005 Dodge Grand Caravan that has the use of neither its automatic locking system nor its horn. We picked it up Wednesday morning and by Wednesday evening I discovered the automatic locks weren't working, either by using the key mechanism, the inside buttons or by inserting the key in the lock. The key will lock the driver's side door, but a second turn will not engage the locks on the rest of the doors the way it's supposed to. By Friday, Jack discovered the horn wasn't working, either. The locks aren't life-threatening, but a car won't pass inspection without a horn. I'm worried that it means we've got a lemon; if it's a matter of fuses blown, I don't want to have to keep replacing fuses. That is usually indicative of a bigger problem. I don't think the dealership is going to jerk us around, but I won't feel 100-percent happy with the car until it is 100 percent. It's a lovely car otherwise.

Speaking of lovely, the lovely Baby Brigid has had her share of blown fuses this week. She's developing a temper and throws it around, even if only briefly, when she's frustrated or can't get her way. Going outside has become one of the main areas of frustration. She'll run to the back door or point in that direction if you're holding her and start screaming. She'll pound on the door. She also does this very cute marching in place thing when she's angry, kind of stomping to a beat. It's hard not to laugh because she's serious.

She's also been congested the last week. I've never known a kid to grow a crop of boogers the way she can. You can harvest them one day and there they are the next, ripe for the picking. But she won't just let you get in there. She flails and screams and writhes and wriggles. She hates having her nose wiped, but she knows what it means when you ask her if she has any boogies in there. She'll want to pick your nose. It's turnabout. And to her, it's fair play.

She also knows what it means when I say I have to change her diaper. She'll run into her room and stand at the changing table, actually, she'll stand there and try to climb up onto it. She'll pull out a diaper and hand it to you. She's incredibly bright and although she babbles incessently and a rare word crops in, she understands and gets things more than you'd think. She understands when you ask, "Do you want to take a bath?" She knows it means she gets to climb the stairs (the only time I let her climb the stairs, btw, with me right behind her the whole way). She knows what naked time means -- she loves naked time. She understands "Do you want a snack?" and knows specific snacks like cookie or puffs. She knows many, many words even if she can't yet say them. I get the feeling we're about to experience an explosion of vocabulary any day by the way she's experimenting with her sounds and using her tongue to make new sounds. Maybe then we'll have less fuse-blowing all around.

Silver Braces and Silver Bullets, Both are Beautiful

Well, the we began our slide down the slippery slope (love that alliteration). Patricia got her braces on this morning. Last week she had spacers placed between a few molars to make room for the brackets. That bothered her quite a bit; I fear today and the next few days will be even more bothersome if Margaret's experience is any indication. She'll be racked up on Advil for a while I'm afraid. But she's adorable. She told me today in the car that she is nervous about getting braces.

I told her she'll look cute, but she thinks she'll look like a dork. Then she said, "I hope I don't have to wear glasses," to which I replied, "Honey, I'm afraid you'll have to resign yourself to the reality that with Mom, Dad and all your grandparents having worn glasses, you will, too." "Then I'll REALLY look dorky," she said. I told her that by the time she has to have glasses, her braces will be long gone but she'll have a beautiful, uncrowded smile under the frames.

Brigid, meanwhile, continues to have a runny nose that started a few days ago. Yesterday she kept herself hydrated by the non-stop running that went from her nose to her mouth. I'm hoping it doesn't develop into anything more than a head cold. She slept well, though. May have been the benadryl I gave her last night. It hasn't affected her nursing, however. It's just made her sound like a suckling pig -- snork snork snork.


This weekend Brigid had her first swing in a baby swing at the park and seemed to like it very much. She was delighted because Margaret stood behind her to push and Patricia stood in front to push back. She just beamed as the swing went back and forth, back and forth. Brigid has certainly developed a love of the outdoors and one of her first, and only words so far, has been a version of "outside." It sounds like "A-siiiidddeee? A-siiiddeeeee?" And she pound on the back door. Last night, she wanted to go out so badly she started to pitch a fit. I put a sweater on her and her Old Navy baseball cap and we walked out with Daddy as he headed back to work. We walked along the sidewalk and she just wanted to take off. She was giddy with happiness, waving her arms around and babbling loudly. She didn't like having her hand held and would pull it away hard and fast. When Daddy had to take his leave, she waved and I started to turn her around to head back to the house and she dropped like a dead weight on the neighbor's lawn. She righted herself only to drop again when I tried again to direct her in the opposite direction. She finally allowed me to direct her as long as I didn't dare try to take her hand or touch her back in a herding attempt. She did let me hold her hand as we navigated our uneven unpaved driveway. We stood for a while out back and she was intrigued by Patricia's bike helmet, which was hanging from her bike handlebars. I said that's Patricia's helmet, kind of like a hat. And Brigid reached up and started to take her own hat off. She gets a lot more than you think.

And the big news is we found a new van. We'll be picking up a 2005 Dodge Grand Caravan, silver, with gray interior, tomorrow. After selling the '99 Caravan, we've been down to one vehicle for a few weeks and it's been a challenge. I'm looking forward to having a second vehicle again.

Bonus Photos
Brigid and I went shopping at Sam's Club and Brigid on a feeding frenzy.

We're Hoping the Perfect Sleeper Slogan Describes More than Just the Serta

Well, dance recital fever is in the air. Both Margaret and Patricia are participating in jazz and tap, and I'm in jazz, so the recital, which is held the second weekend in June, will be very busy for us. It's good exercise and a lot of fun, and the recital is a reward for the hard work all year. By the looks of it, Brigid will be a hula baby as well. When I have her with me during Margaret and Patricia's classes, she bounces and dances all over the waiting room. She loves to dance. This week is photo week in the dance studio, so the girls' jazz and tap classes will be taken up with individual and group photos and my jazz class will be the same way, but I doubt many of the women in my class will worry about individual photos. I had my photo taken with the girls in their jazz costume so it will be documented.

Speaking of documentation, I have to make sure I document all the words, or sounds of words, that Brigid has been making. I honestly believe she is saying words. We are just having a hard time figuring some of them out. But I think she's been saying "outside" and bye bye lately, especially since she knows what "outside" is now and really loves being there. She says Dah Dah and Mah Mah now for her parents; and she still says muh muh for "Boob," which she pats, sometimes frantically, when she wants some. She says "mmmmm" for food or when something tastes good. She says something that sounds like done when she is done. She also lifts her arms up to emphasize when she's done. That's if the throwing food on the floor doesn't give us a hint. She says things that sound like what you're saying to her. She was holding a yellow sock, and I kept saying, "That's a yellow sock," and she would repeat sounds that had the same intonation and emphasis. It's almost like an explosion of verbal development has started. It's exciting to see/hear what she'll do next.

She is certainly better on her feet and starting to really run, especially in the opposite direction that you are heading. She'll head for the driveway if you don't have your eye on her all the time. And the little devil knows when she's doing something, or about to do something, that she isn't supposed to because she'll stand there, almost waiting and wanting you to catch her before she takes that first forbidden step.

She loves jokes or funny situations, like pretending to chase her around the house and saying "I'm going to get you." She laughs her head off. It's hysterical.

We're hoping we've lined up a babysitter, or "nanny" for a regular three days a week so Jack can get some work done or go to exercise and I don't have to re-arrange my schedule every day. Leslie has babysat for us one time before and the girls, all three of them, really enjoyed her. Of course, it was better for Leslie because BB could be handed to both Margaret and Patricia and back again if she seemed suspicious or cautious with her at any given moment. If we can work this out, Brigid will have Leslie all to herself a few hours each day until Patricia comes home from school. That will be nice for Brigid.

What was also nice for Brigid, and the rest of us, is that she went to sleep last night at 7:30 and didn't stir until I brought her into bed with us about 5:30 a.m. She drifted off to sleep again until close to 8 a.m. If only she'd sleep a little longer so Daddy could return for another hour or so of much-needed rest. The new bed, by the way, is great. We highly recommend a new bed/mattresses to anyone looking for a more restful sleep, even one that's disturbed routinely at 5:30 a.m. by a crying baby.

Hoping to Avoid Owies

Happy Mother's Day! The girls gave me a wonderful greeting this morning and presented me with lovely gifts and cards. And I am going to be getting a very lovely charm bracelet from Jack, the idea for which originally came from Michelle (Wellsware.com) It's a custom-made charm bracelet featuring photos or other empherma you provide that they then encase in glass and silver.

It is indeed a lovely Mother's Day and I am grateful to be the mom to three such wonderful daughters. Brigid has really taken a liking to being outside and it's getting harder and harder to contain her. When you tell her she can't go outside, she gets very angry. Jack said she has also decided it's OK to take off down the driveway when told she can't. We may have our hands full until she firmly grasps the concept of what's allowed and what isn't.

She is also getting taller, which means things that were only recently out of reach are now within her grasp. She pulled a plastic bucket of water down on top of her this morning. She wasn't drenched, but the incident made us realize that things on the counter aren't safe anymore. She also gets the idea of climbing, and although she hasn't put it to use -- climbing over the gates, for instance -- she still knows that she puts her foot in the slots to pull herself up. As a result, Jack figured he'd better let down the crib mattress to its lowest point. Now her head barely reaches the top of the crib sides, but I'd rather she be a little torqued than figure out how to propel herself over the side of the crib. It's also harder to put her down for a nap or at night if she's fallen asleep with the mattress so low, but that, too, will have to do in the name of baby safety. When Patricia was a baby, we woke one night to a loud thud and her cries. When we ran into her room, Patricia was on the floor crying, "Owie Mine Head!" having fallen out of the crib in her attempts to escape. The second time, in 10 minutes' time, wasn't funny so she got a stern talking to. She then figured out how to climb out without owie to her head. We then had to install a gate in her doorway to keep her in her room. I hope Baby Brigid doesn't follow in her sister's footsteps. I'd rather not have to soothe a head owie again.

Red-letter Days and Sleepy Nights

Red-letter day in the Downs household. We got a new bed. We ordered it a few weeks ago and it was delivered and set up yesterday. It's been so long since we've actually had a foot and head board and a mattress and box spring that don't sag to the floor. You sit on the edge of the bed and your feet don't touch the floor, that's how high up it is. I'm hoping it will be a good thing for my aching back and shoulders. Brigid thought it was hysterical and jumped around on it this morning after waking up.

Speaking of waking up, we're hoping she's falling back into her regular pattern of sleeping through most of the night. Of course, for many people, a baby waking up at 5 or 5:30 in the morning is normal. But for us, it's too early, so we get her back to sleep with the boob until 8 or so. But yesterday she took a longer-than-normal nap and still went to sleep at the regular time. This kid has never had a "typical" nap schedule like most kids do -- morning and afternoon naps that blend into one long afternoon nap at about her age. She has always taken a nap in the late morning, early afternoon and that's about it. I hope she eventually does stretch that nap into a two-hour regular thing, but I doubt she will.

Last night was another red-letter day for us when Brigid ate her first hot dog, cut up into tiny pieces of course. Jack wasn't thrilled with the not-so-healthy fare, but hot dogs and kids? They're like peanut butter and jelly, Tom and Jerry, Lewis and Clark. They go together. She hadn't eaten meat until recently when I cooked a big turkey dinner. Found out she loved turkey. Gobbled it down (no pun intended. Well, ok, pun intended) The hot dog met a similar fate. She shoved it in like there was no tomorrow (or like there would be none tomorrow, if Daddy has his way). So our vegetarian has now become an omnivore (she does eat everything -- paper, fuzz off the floor, anything you can't get away from her).

She is developing more and more language, although for the life of us we have no idea what she's saying. We make out an occasional word hidden in her own Brigidese. She'll say ba ba ba ba on end and slip something in the middle of it and you look up from what you're doing. "Did she just say..." Now that she's been outside in the backyard (we've had some lovely weather) all she wants to do is go outside. I was holding her last night, she pointed to the door and said (I'm sure of it) "Outside, bye bye." I know she comprehends much much more than she says, that's for sure. She follows directions very well and understands questions like "Do you want more?" or "Do you want a drink? Water? Juice?" She'll point to something she wants or go over to the item. It's just amazing to see the development. She'll come up to you and give your legs a hug, almost like she's touching homebase, even if only a moment, as if she needs some reassurance. And then she'll go off and continue whatever she's doing. Melts my heart.

I've been giving her some naked time at night because she loves running around without clothes on. Not that she's in the least bit ready for the potty, but she seems to know when she's got to go. She was running around and would stop and look at me, a furrowed brow, then run to another spot and stop, look at me as if to say, "Something's going to happen; I know it." Then she started to pee. I was quick with the towel but she had the idea. I could tell she did. Same thing happened one night when I knew she had to poop. She was looking at me -- diaper's not on, Mom. Something's going to happen here. I guess it's good to be self-aware.

Toxic Gases A Blessing to 6th Graders

Margaret's school had an emergency evacuation this morning because some toxic gas was being detected and a few students were even getting woosey, so our morning was thrown off schedule when I had to go over and pick her up. She was happy to be out of school at 10:20 a.m. but said she did start to experience a headache earlier. Seems a clean-up project across the river a stone's throw from the school may be the culprit. At the very least, it allowed me to spend a little more time at the office because Margaret is getting very capable of babysitting for longer periods of time, a job for which she is paid. We don't want to take advantage of her age just because she has a baby sister. Some times, I need her to help when I'm there, and that's different. But when we're at work and need her to actually sit, then we feel she should be compensated.

The baby was out of sorts over the weekend. Margaret had her birthday party/slumber party on Saturday with four girls and two boys (who were sent home after the pizza portion of the party). It went very well, with putt-putt and pizza with all the kids, movie and snacks and PJs at home with just the girls. I imagined hours of telling them to quiet down and get to sleep, but they were all out at a reasonable hour and none the worse for wear on Sunday. Parents picked up the girls in time for us to make 11 a.m. Mass, so it worked out well. But Baby Brigid was a wreck most of the weekend, fussing and screaming and throwing herself backwards no matter if you were holding her or if she was standing on the floor. I think she may be working on a molar based on the amount of gumming she's doing to her hand and the drool factor. She's not been a good teether -- she gets cranky and tends to run a fever and runny nose, and she's been congested. So that may be the case. She fell asleep last night before 8 p.m. And although she stirred throughout the night, she really didn't get up until after 6 a.m. to come into bed with us for some boob time and a few more hours of sleep.

If she is cutting a molar, we're in for a good few days of fussiness because they tend to be difficult to cut. I left her in pretty good spirits, and with Margaret home maybe her mood will be a fine one later. We'll see.

The photo I uploaded is one of Brigid in a cute striped polo dress she received from her Godmother, Auntie Shell.

Sleep Deprivation Gives One an Appetite

Well, I don't know if she's going through a stage or growing pains or if it's a result of her being sick a week ago, but Baby Brigid's sleeping patterns have changed. Two nights ago, she went down about 8 p.m. but at 1 a.m. woke up screaming and wouldn't settle back down on her own in the crib. I brought her in for a little snuggle and some boob, but she flipped and flopped herself around the bed like she used to do, clearly tired, clearly wanting to go to sleep but propelling herself in an effort to stay away. It was an effort that spread to us as well because we certainly weren't going to get any sleep ourselves, so at about 2:30 Daddy did the dirty deed and put her back in her crib where she cried and screamed until about 5:30. I got her back up and brought her back to bed with us and she did fall asleep en boobe and stayed that way until after 9 a.m. We were exhaused. She took a long-for-Brigid nap yesterday afternoon after a full morning of play and Sesame Street, but didn't go down willingly. When she woke after 2 p.m., she was in a pretty good mood most of the day. At dinner, she gobbled up her garlic pasta, shoving it in by the fistfull with a "mmmmm" each time. The pasta, a great find at Sam's, has chicken and spinach in it, so although she didn't eat much of the chicken, she did get some of the spinach in.

A bath after dinner soothed her a bit, but she just didn't want to settle down. Her nose has been a bit runny, so I gave her some benadryl and boob and at 9:30 she was still up. I could tell she was tired, but she was being obstinant. I finally just put her in bed where she screamed bloody hell for a few minutes, but then I didn't hear a peep out of her. Although she stirred a few times during the night, she slept through until 6 a.m. Heaven. I brought her in with us and she slept until almost 9. When I left for work this morning, she and Daddy were dancing in the living room to Tom Chapin. Daddy is teaching her his classic moves: the circle dance lives ons.

Happy 12th Brithday today, Margaret Mary! Our little baby is 12! Hard to believe it's been 12 years. She has turned into such a confident and poised young lady. We're incredibly proud of her. She's hoping to have a few friends over next weekend to celebrate. Going to Stafford Middle School has been good for her in a number of ways, not the least of which is a larger circle of friends. She went to a sleepover two weeks ago and slept over at another friend's this past weekend as well. I'm so glad she's adjusted as well as she has. She loves her school and is enjoying herself. We hope the trend continues. Happy, happy birthday, sweetie!