====================================================================== ========================== ======================== ======================== PEBBLES PRESS ======================= ======================= and ====================== ======================== TWINKIE TRIBUNE ======================= ========================== ======================== ====================================================================== ``The Straight Poop on Heather and Twinkie'' 16 September 1997 Vol. 4, No. 2 Joint Editors-in-Chief: Heather & Caroline Contributing Editors: John & Marie Fashion Editor: Aunt Susan -- THE SLEEP OBSESSION You know, something that I've learned, now that I have two children, is that sleep deprivation *really* sucks! Caroline still often wakes up during the night 2 or 3 times. It varies a lot. On a good night, she'll sleep from 9:30 till 5:30, then sleep until 8 and be up for the day. On a bad night, she'll be up and fussy until 10:00 or later, then up at 1:30, 3:45, 5, and up for the day at 6:30. So far we've just let her set her own pace, but keep toying with the idea of letting her cry it out and see if she'll sleep better. But she does usually nurse and seem to be hungry when she wakes, so it may not be that easy. Evenings are sometimes a drag -- she gets really tired, but just wants to keep going as long as she can, so she'll alternate between playing and crawling around, and fussing and crying. Eventually she either nurses to sleep or starts doing this twisting/crying thing with her eyes shut, and that's how we know she's ready for bed -- at that point we just put her down and usually she'll go straight to sleep. She's really not on a schedule -- I guess she's just not a routine- oriented baby. She takes random-length naps (anywhere from 5 minutes to 3 hours) a random number of times a day. Usually, she goes to bed around 9:30, but it can be much earlier or later. Her meals / bottles / nursings are randomly spaced too. She's pretty darned enigmatic for an 8-month-old. -- DON'T FORGET Here's a handy mnemonic to help you remember how to say our baby's name: Our little cutie is really fine, That's why her name is Carol-line. She made her mommy be really not thin, That's why her name isn't Carol-lynn! Okay, well, technically it isn't a mnemonic, but I bet nobody forgets how to say her name again. -- MOTORING ALONG For the longest time, it seemed like Caroline would never learn to roll over. She managed it a couple of times early on, around April, and then just didn't bother to do it again. For months. Then she started rolling over, and before we knew it, she was *crawling*! That's right, our little sweetie started scooting along the floor just shy of her 6-month birthday. At first, she'd get up on all fours, scoot her legs under her until she plopped forward on her face, then repeat the process, gradually inching forward. Then she finally figured out that her hands had a role to play in this process. She worked and worked at it, and was crawling proficiently by 6-1/2 months. Around 7 months, she started pulling up on the furniture. She hasn't quite figured out how to cruise (walk along holding on to something), nor does she seem interested in balancing, so walking may be a ways off yet (I sure hope so)! (Incidentally, she didn't sit up on her own until very recently, and even now she only sits occasionally: she can even get herself *into* a sit from being on all fours, but as soon as she does, she finds something else to do and goes crawling off.) Of course, this means that her motor skills are way beyond her mental capabilities. She's so inquisitive, she's exploring the whole house and spending lots of time amusing herself with whatever toys (or non-toy objects!) she finds. She can spot the teeniest bit of fuzz across the room, crawl after it, and grab it. Luckily, she grabs with her whole fist, so she can't then put it into her mouth. So we often see her crawling around with her hands in little fists, and that's how we know she's got something she shouldn't have! She doesn't have any sense of self-preservation, or understanding of dangerous activities. She'd crawl right off the edge of a cliff (or bed or sofa) if you didn't grab her and pull her back. One morning shortly after she learned to crawl, John left her sleeping in our bed, and although we were listening for sounds of movement, the first thing we heard was a wail, then a howl, followed closely by a shriek. We ran into the bedroom, thinking "oh no, she must have fallen off somehow," and didn't see her on the bed or the floor anywhere! Then I realized she had crawled up over the pillow at the head of the bed, and toppled onto the window seat, right on top of my clock radio, book, vitamin bottle, (babyproofed) power strip... Luckily she wasn't really hurt (just a bit of bruising around her nose). After getting over the colic (which went away around 3 months), she was pretty happy-go-lucky for a while, but started acting up again around the time she learned to crawl. Part of it was probably that we took a long trip around then. But also, if you think about it, going from being a stationary entity to a mobile one requires a *huge* change in the way a baby processes and understands the world. All of a sudden, they have this fundamental ability to control their location, which means they now have a need for all kinds of cognitive skills, like understanding relative positions of objects, having intentional desires about where to go next, and reasoning about things like obstacle avoidance. So it's no wonder she was fussy -- that's a lot to learn for a 6-month-old. -- PERSONALITY PLUS Caroline is extremely tactile -- she loves to manipulate and touch objects, and will fondle and stroke my finger for minutes at a time. When she's lying on her tummy, or in her carseat, she'll scritch her fingernails against whatever surface they're resting on; just enjoying hearing the sound and feeling the scratchy sensation, I guess. I personally happen to think she's incredibly cute, sticky-up hair and all. She just has this alert, intent look all the time, and I get the sense that she's wise beyond her years. (Until she crawls into the coffee table -- bonk! -- and then I wonder if she's got all her marbles...) She has a pretty intense mommy attachment, but it mostly only expresses itself when she's tired and fussy (then she'll practically hurl herself out of anybody else's arms -- including daddy's -- to get to mine). She rarely tries to get out of my arms to go to anyone else (the only exceptions have been Nouri, one of her teachers at day care, and Tanya, the executive director (who loves Caroline to pieces)). But she'll usually be happy enough to go. She doesn't giggle and smile a lot -- she has a more serious, intense demeanor -- but she's good-natured nonetheless. She is one active, determined, bright little kid, though -- although she'll generally go along with what's going on, if she sets her mind on something and you change the plan, she lets you know her mind. And when she drops a toy, or (heaven forfend) you take something away from you, she really lets loose! One night last week, I was putting Heather to bed, and Caroline was crawling all over me, so John took her into the other room. She cried some (she's a real mommy's baby), but settled down, so he put her down to crawl around. She played for a minute or two, then set off: crawled around behind the rocking chair, into our (dark) bedroom, through the bedroom, into the bathroom, through the bathroom, and into the girls' room, and started crying as she crawled towards me. John said she *definitely* knew where she was going. What a smart girl (and so tenacious...) -- BABY TALK Caroline is quite chatty, and says all kinds of wordlike things (baga, ada, nanana). Of course, we're hoping that Caroline will be an early talker, remembering how much we loved it when we started being able to communicate with Heather. If she's not, I guess we'll just go for long walks together! :-) -- BIG KID TALK This section is devoted to random Heather quotes and anecdotes. From the "LKP1 Philosophy" pamphlet: LKP1 Kids Discuss their Moms. Heather: "She plays with me. Sometimes I play lotto with her. I picked flower for my mommy once, and I blew bubbles. Sometimes she holds me. But when I'm throwing a tantrum, my mommy puts me in my room. (What happens when you're done?) She takes me out of my room." I'm the only mom whose kid said anything unhappy about her. :-( Recently we went to one of our favorite breakfast places, and there was a half-hour wait, so Heather and I walked to a nearby bakery to buy "you know, those kind of sweet rolls, with the tops" (you have to picture Heather saying this in her cute little voice with her hands waving around expressively creating a breadlike shape in midair). The other day in the car, Heather said out of the blue, "I can count without saying the numbers." It took me a minute to parse that, but then I realized she was saying she could count to herself. I said "Oh really, can you show me?" She said "okay," then was quiet for a minute and then "See, I counted to twenty! Did you hear that?" "No, I didn't hear anything -- you must have counted in your head!" "Yeah, in my head. I can count us without saying the numbers too." (pause) "Four! See?" (All four of us were in the car.) So I held up six fingers and said "can you count my fingers without saying the numbers out loud?" (pause) "Six!" I thought it was really cool not only that she had learned to count in her head, but that she was aware enough of its coolness that she bothered to tell us about it. Recently, we went to get ice cream after dinner one night. After eating most of her cone, Heather asked John if he would trade. He said yes, took her cone and gave her his cup. She turned to him and said "Now that we traded, that's yours and this is mine, so do you want some of my ice cream?" and gave him a bite before she even had any herself. She can be so sweet and generous. (John says:) #1: When Heather came running up to me at daycare, she looked particularly small for some reason. I said, "Heather, aren't you ever going to grow up?" She replied, with a voice of resignation, "yeah, I'm rather short for my age." #2: When I picked her up early from school, I said "what do you want to do this afternoon?" She replied, "maybe we'll go to Barney's for a pancake, and then we'll go home, and maybe, we'll just hang out." #3: We were talking to a woman named Freida, a regular at Barney's who has pretty much adopted Heather as a granddaughter, when she asked Heather why Caroline had gone with Marie on the business trip. Heather said, "Caroline had to go with Mommy because she's the only one that has breasts." This was doubly amazing because I at least have never told her that that was one of the reasons Caroline can't be separated from Marie, although Heather obviously knows about breast milk, from the historical "[I can't feed Caroline] because I don't have big breasts" comment she made a while back. -- CHOW TIME Caroline has finally decided to drink from a bottle (some of you may remember that at first she took them fine, then decided she'd have nothing to do with the evil things). She still doesn't seem to be as comforted by it as nursing, but it's better than nothing. She's pretty well established on solids now. She certainly seems to like them! She likes almost all the veggies except spinach and maybe peas. We waited quite a while to introduce fruits, and she doesn't seem real interested, though she chows down on pears, and seems to like applesauce pretty well. She just about threw me out of the house when I tried to feed her apricots though. Her favorite baby food is just plain cereal, if you can believe that. She has NO clue about chewing food, though. Put a piece of food in her mouth, even the tiniest softest piece of pasta or bread, and she makes this ridiculously revolted face, screws up her mouth, and shoves it back out with her tongue. Lately, she's started to really enjoy gnawing on bread, though, and sometimes some of it actually seems to end up inside her. Pumping milk is a real pain, so I'm glad she's taking the solids now, since it means she drinks less milk during the day. Caroline usually drinks 2 bottles of breastmilk at day care, 3 or 4 ounces to a bottle, but sometimes more. And it's hard to find time to pump, so sometimes I only get to pump once in a day, and if I'm really stressed out about it, I have trouble getting a letdown and might only get 2 ounces. Luckily, some days I get lots more milk than she drinks, so up till now I've been gradually building up a supply. When she's 9 months we'll try starting her on cow's milk, and gradually drop the daytime nursings/pumpings/bottles. I can't wait until I can quit pumping!! -- SIBLING RIVALRY We were really worried about the shared room interfering with both the girls' sleep, but they've been in the same room for months now, and we rarely have a problem -- although sometimes one of them does wake the other up, and bedtime is sometimes dicey, with them both keeping each other awake. I had a couple of long talks with Heather about what it would be like to share her room, especially the possibility of Caroline making noises while she falls asleep, and of her crying during the night. Heather seemed cool with it. I told her about how Susan and I shared a room, and how she used to talk in her sleep sometimes, and she thought that was pretty hilarious. Heather's adjusted really well to having Caroline around. She does sometimes whine a bit more and demand our attention when we're busy with Caroline, and we had a really rough couple of weeks right after Caroline was born (lots of tantrums, acting out, defiance). But she's never taken it out on Caroline, or said anything like she doesn't want to have Caroline around. She seems to be really proud of her, and to think she's cute. She's even doing okay (for the most part) now that Caroline is crawling around and getting into her things, but we're starting to see some "turf wars." Heather understands in principle that we all share the things in our house (like I let Heather play "my" piano), but also knows that she can have special things that she doesn't let Caroline play with. (Some days she seems to want everything to be her "special things," though.) But if she leaves those things where Caroline can get to them, she can only take them away if Caroline "agrees" (usually Heather gets her to "agree" by bringing her something else to play with). Hopefully they will continue to get along this well, but I know better than to expect that. :-) One morning on the way to day care, Heather said "Mommy, when Caroline gets older, I hope... I hope..." (struggling really hard to find the right words) "I hope she's just like me." It was so sweet, it just lit up my morning. -- THOUGHTS ON TWO Heather is such a special, wonderful child, I just didn't think I could love another child the same way. I really agonized over this -- I felt so strongly that I wanted Heather to have a sibling, but I just couldn't imagine having another child. Not just loving them, but having the energy to deal with two. The thing is, I *don't* love Caroline the same way, and that's okay. I love her the way I loved Heather when she was a little baby -- I feel very protective of her. She's so helpless and sweet and needy that I desperately want to take care of her and make her happy. Heather, though, I love for the child she's become. She's funny and smart and charming and exasperating, and I *know* her. I don't really know Caroline -- I mean, I do, but there's not much to know, compared to Heather. And when I think of how much my love for Heather has changed in the last 3 years, I know quite well that my love for Caroline will change in the next 3 years too. I don't love her any *less*, I just love her *differently*, and I probably always will: after all, she's a different person. Heather will probably always have a special place in my heart, because she's my first child. But Caroline will probably always have a special place in my heart, because she's my last child. I recently read an article in Salon magazine (on the web, at http://www.salonmagazine.com/june97/mothers/twokids970618.html) that ends with the very touching thought, as the authorlooked at her son shortly before her daughter was born: "For one last fleeting moment, he was my baby, my one and only. And then it was time to go." Every time I reread this, it brings tears to my eyes. Because it's really true, that there was something so special and *unique* about my relationship with Heather when she was my only child. But my relationship with her really hasn't changed -- I love her just as much, and just as fiercely, and she's still one of the most special people in the world to me. It's just not unique any more, because now I have that special mothering relationship with Caroline, too. And although her place in my heart isn't any smaller, the fact that my love for her is no longer unique feels almost unfair, like I've taken something away from her by making room in my heart for Caroline too. But do you know what makes up for it? I watch Heather and Caroline together, and I can already see an echo of that fierce love, growing between the two of them. When Heather sees Caroline at the end of the day, she touches her and pulls at her and nuzzles her as though she's trying to become part of her. And Caroline just gazes at Heather with this huge sloppy grin on her face, as though Heather is the most astounding and marvelous creature in the world. (And really, she is.) I know that they'll go through bouts of sibling rivalry, and fight with each other (probably fight a *lot*, if they're anything like me and my sister). But that fierce love will always be there for them, not just from me but from each other. -- BIG-GIRL EMOTIONS Heather is really getting in touch with her emotions these days. A few months ago, I had a busy weekend where I was away from home a lot. By Sunday night, Heather was really missing me, and wanted to spend time alone with me. So of course, as soon as we get settled in the rocking chair to read a magazine, Caroline wakes up and starts crying to be fed. I tried to convince Heather we could share the rocking chair, but she said "I'm afraid she'll start kicking me!" and burst into tears, then climbed off my lap and ran away, crying. I tried to go ahead and nurse Caroline, but she gets really upset when she hears Heather crying, so she wouldn't nurse. I put her down and went over and just held Heather for a while, but she kept sobbing and sobbing. Finally I said, "Heather, won't you *please* stop crying?" She pulled away, looked at me with tears streaming down her face, and half sobbed, half shouted "*Nothing* can make me stop crying!" It was just the most pathetic thing. John also said that that same weekend, when I was away, he was about to play a game with Heather, and Caroline started fussing. So he told her he was going to go put her to bed, then he'd come back and play. She didn't complain, but she said "okay, but if we don't have enough time to play my game, I'm going to be *really* mad." She's really something. Lately she's been expressing her anger in words, which is good, but I don't quite know how I should react. The other night, she got mad because we weren't paying enough attention to her, and she said "I'm so mad, I feel like pulling somebody's hair. I want to pull Mommy's hair really hard." Usually when she says something like this, I say "wow, you must be really mad, but you know, I don't want you to pull my hair because it hurts." Then I try to suggest something she *could* do that would be OK -- hit a pillow or stamp her feet or run down the street waving her arms. On this occasion, I suggested that she pull a shrub instead of my hair, which she did, and it had the interesting side effect of hurting her hand (it was prickly). I'm not sure whether that was good (reminded her pulling stuff isn't always so good) or bad (because it means that my alternative suggestions aren't always such great ones for her). She's turning into a real little girl, too. I'm not sure I can even describe her emerging personality, which is this lively mixture of creativity, imagination, coyness, friendliness, and curiosity, mixed with an occasional dash of shyness. She does this thing where she kind of waves her hands around and says "so... well... " and tells some random anecdote, like "well, Emily Hornberger ate all of my ham at lunch today. But, so, well, she let me have some of her cookie, her special treat, but then she just ate all of my ham! She just ate it all!" (laughs) She talks about Caroline a lot. "Well, so, Caroline is just a *drool-girl!* She just drools and drools, and then I wipe it off with a napkin, and then I throw the napkin in the trash." -- THE DAYS OF HEATHER'S LIFE This month, Heather started in a new classroom at day care (BKP3 -- Big Kids Place). She did great. I think John and I were much more anxious than she was. She had been excited but a little shy during our visits in August. On the first day, though, she was off and running. When we got there, I pointed out her coathook, and then she found her own cubbies, and put her lunchbox away. After that she headed straight for the easel and painted a (purple, of course) picture for me. Then we read some books (she likes that there are low shelves of "big-kid" books, which get rotated regularly). After that, we played in the kitchen for a bit with Emily Hornberger (who moved up from LKP1 with her), then headed over for snack, but she got sidetracked by the art table. I left her there, busily doing rubber stamps and gluing little plastic sticks and pompoms onto her page. John picked her up, and filled me in: her teacher said she'd had a GREAT day. Lena (the full-day teacher) had thought she was a bit reserved on her earlier visits, but she said that today she spoke right up and jumped in at group time and played with the other kids. She introduced herself to the other kids at group time, sat with Lena for lunch, played with a new friend whose name she could't remember, swept the castle (treehouse) with a broom, and too many other things to tell us about. Things have gone swimmingly ever since. She even rode to school without her pacifier (as we had agreed big kids do), but needed it after school. She says she won't need it at all from now on, though. Heather is taking gymnastics this fall. Classes started last Saturday, and she loved it -- went out to the teacher when she called her name, did everything enthusiastically, and keeps asking when she gets to go to gymnastics again. ("Oh, you mean I get to go EVERY Saturday?! Hooray!") What she really wants to do is take ballet -- she says she's going to be a ballet dancer when she grows up -- so we'll probably sign her up for ballet in the spring ("pre-ballet" classes at most places are for 4-year-olds and up). Heather and I watched Disney's original 101 Dalmations on video while John was in Korea, and she loved it. Now she's fascinated by Cruella DeVil, and likes to pretend she's Cruella and we're the dalmations -- and tells us she's going to catch us and turn us into a coat! (Heather watches TV maybe once a week, probably less. When we visit relatives, she watches videos more. It is a big treat, which may be why this video had such a big impact on her.) She wants to be Cruella for Hallowe'en; John and I will be the mom and dad dalmations; and Caroline will be a baby dalmation. The thing Heather does that I think is the coolest of all: she now recognizes all the (capital) letters, and can write her own name! -- HEALTH NEWS As of her "6-month" visit in late July, Caroline was 15 lbs. 7 oz. (50th %ile) and 27 1/4" (95th %ile). (Almost exactly the same size Heather was at that age.) We don't think she's grown a lot since then, though she seems taller to us. In July, after our trip, Heather came down with a nasty bug. At first she just said that she was cold; then she wanted to curl up on the sofa (a sure sign of illness); then wanted to sit on my lap at dinner and only ate a few bites of food. Then she started to feel warm, and was really complaining about being cold, plus she had that kind of sad tired droopy look she gets when she's sick. I got her ready for bed and took her temperature -- 100.8. Then I tried to get her to eat, but she wouldn't even eat applesauce with raisins. So we curled up on the couch under a blanket and read a few books. Then I tried to get her to take some tylenol, but she was really protesting and absolutely refusing. I was just getting ready to insist (mainly so she'd sleep better), when she started to get this funny look on her face and cough a little bit, and I realized she was about to throw up. I said so to John, handed him the juice and medicine I was trying to feed her, and he dashed out to the kitchen to get a bucket, but didn't get back quite in time -- she threw up orange juice and rice all over me and the blanket. (I don't believe she's *ever* thrown up when it didn't land on me. Being a mom has so many special rewards...) She seemed to feel better after that, though, and even a little bit cooler. It may have been something she ate, because she was pretty much all better by the next day. In August, one after the other, we all came down with what started out as a minor cold, and trailed off into a horrible cough. I had the worst cough of any of us, but Caroline has had it longer than anyone else (she still has it now, and it's been nearly four weeks since she first started coughing). (More on this in "THE NIGHT FROM HELL.") Heather and I went to the dentist together a few weeks ago. I had to get a filling replaced, and I took Heather along for her first visit. I 'motivated' her in advance -- I told her that for going to the dentist, she would get a treat, and if she could be brave enough to open her mouth, she'd get a second treat. She told Daddy and anybody who would listen that she was going to the dentist, and that she'd have two treats. The dentist was very friendly and nice to her, and they took her to play with toys while they did my filling (the last thing I wanted was for her to see them put a giant needle in my mouth, then drill into my teeth!) Then she sat on my lap for a bit while the dentist talked to her some more. Finally she was willing to climb down and look into the dentist's mouth, but got scared again when the dentist said it was her turn to look in Heather's mouth. But then she said she wanted to get on my lap, and after I picked her up, she opened her mouth! She even kept it open and tilted her head back so the dentist could see her top teeth. (Yes, I had reminded her a couple of times about the 2 treats.) The dentist said everything looked fine, no decay or cavities as far as she could see, but that she has an open bite -- which I'd never realized before, but once she pointed it out to me, I knew just what she was talking about. When she bites down, her back teeth come together but her front teeth don't meet (not an overbite, they just don't close all the way). She said you usually see that in babies who suck their thumbs, but it could be because she sticks her tongue out a lot. She said we should just monitor it, and next year if it seems to be a problem still, they'll send her over to a pediatric specialist. I'm not sure if they actually *do* anything for it, except to try to determine the cause, and maybe some behavioral therapy to try to change any bad habits. Oh, and her two treats were a mylar balloon (she picked out the pink heart-shaped one that says "It's a Girl!") and a chocolate milkshake (not exactly what the dentist might recommend, I suppose). -- ALL THE POOP THAT'S S*IT TO PRINT [Warning: not for the squeamish] One night last spring, we babysat for Cory (who was 3 1/2 at the time). He's potty trained, and we asked him if he needed to pee before they went to bed. So he stood up on Heather's stepstool and peed in the potty. Well, Heather thought this was pretty cool and she wanted to go in the potty. (Luckily, she didn't decide she wanted to stand.) So she climbed up on the stepstool and sat on her potty seat (which attaches on top of the big potty). I went into the bedroom to start getting Cory dressed for bed, figuring she'd sit there for a while and not do anything. A few seconds later, she called out in this really surprised voice, "Mommy, I'm peeing!" Sure enough, I could actually hear her tinkling. Once she had made this breakthrough, she wanted to wear underpants, and only had a few accidents before she was completely potty trained during the day. Now she doesn't even wear a diaper at naptime, though she does wear one at night. The only weird thing is that she still usually insists on pooping in a diaper -- she never has any accidents, but she'll ask us for a diaper, then within a few minutes poop in it. Lately we've been giving her an M&M when she poops in the potty, which seems to be a fairly strong incentive, because she's actually done it about half the time. Caroline, on the other hand, has moved into the Smelly Solid Poop stage of her life. So there's a lot of wiping of poopy bottoms in our house these days. Oh, the joys of parenthood. [Oh, come on, it really wan't that bad this time. And why did you read it, anyway??] -- AND NOW, A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR [The following passage was typed by Heather except the carriage returns and a bit of help from Mommy in finding the letters she was looking for.] HHYYYYYYYYY HEATHER DADDY 5, N V /JFAZ C ggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg ggggggggg -- TRIPS 'N' VISITS Marie is proud to announce that she will be receiving the Medal of Honor for taking her second long trip alone with two children. Hey, wait, you mean they don't give the Medal of Honor for that?? Are you serious? Oh, I see, you actually have to be WOUNDED in combat, not just show extreme bravery and perseverance in the face of danger. Oh, heck. Well, maybe next time. First, she warmed up by traveling with Caroline to Washington for a project meeting and an NSF review panel (plus visiting Grandma Mary and the other dJs). Caroline was an angel on the flight on the way out, and not only did we get an empty seat next to us, but the very nice guy at the check-in counter put us in their premier cabin (still coach, but more legroom and more empty seats). At the meeting, my mom babysat during the day, which went fairly well, except that it rained most of the first week, so they were stuck inside the hotel room a lot. I mostly met up with them during breaks to nurse Caroline, and then tried to pump every chance I got to build up a supply of milk for the rest of the trip. My brother babysat while I went to the review panel. I was gone from 7am until 7pm, and left five 4-oz. bags of frozen milk. Good thing, too, because he heated all of them (she only actually drank two and a half). He's never been alone with any child for a whole day, much less a 5-month-old, so it was pretty brave of him. He did okay, but said it was a LONG day. I missed Heather a lot, and she missed me, but she and John had a good week. I think it was good for them to have some time alone together. I also enjoyed being able to just focus on Caroline for a while (when I wasn't working, that is). During the trip, she developed so much: she got much better at picking things up and manipulating them, and finally figured out how to roll from her front to her back reliably. (Unfortunately, she generally prefers to be on her tummy, especially when she sleeps, and couldn't roll back yet, so she would often flip, then cried.) John's best friend from high school lives in Bethesda, and we were planning to have dinner with them Saturday night -- but when we arrived at their house, they were in a whirlwind of activity, getting ready to leave for the hospital to have their second baby! Ironic, because they were in California when we were expecting Heather, and we had to call and cancel plans for a barbeque when I went into labor with her. Now for the Medal of Honor trip. I went to Nashville for a conference (we stayed with John's aunt and uncle), and visited Penny in Oxford, Mississippi on the way there. The trip was... let's just say a mixed success. The plane trip out was miserable, and the drive down to Mississippi even worse, with Caroline howling the whole way. The Oxford visit was terrific, and it was great to see Duncan (Penny's new baby) and Ross (her 3.5-year-old, who loves Heather, and vice versa). They seem to have gotten a different baby-ordering catalog than we had: they're on their second mellow baby in a row. For example, Duncan was 6 weeks old when I visited, and they had never given him a bottle. So while I was there the dad gave him a bottle, with mom just a few feet away, and he sucked it right down. I know there are babies out there who actually like bottles, I've just never been a mom to one. The drive up to Nashville was hell on wheels. Dante's sixth level, if I'm not mistaken. It would normally be a four-hour drive; with many stops to try to soothe a screeching Caroline, it was seven. Oh, and not a mile from my friend's house, I got the first speeding ticket of my life (well, if you don't count the one in Quebec, but I blame that on the kilometers -- *all* those numbers seem too fast to me! :-) I just sat by the side of the road and cried for about 15 minutes after the police car drove away. Not an auspicious start to a very long day. The time in Nashville was pretty good, but still exhausting. The conference was OK, and I got to see a lot of colleagues I haven't seen in a while. It was great to spend more time with John's aunt and uncle, and to meet his cousin and wife and their 20-month-old. John's father and sister (Maria) also came down from New York. But still, when I was around, I tended to be doing most of the kid-care, especially since everybody went to bed pretty early and we were still more or less on California time. The flight back was far better than the flight out -- for one thing, Caroline took two naps and Heather took one. For another thing, I was on my way HOME! John's other sister (Barbara) was in town for a few days, so I didn't have to do too much kid-care for a while (though of course the girls really mostly wanted me, so I wasn't completely left alone). I was only back for a few days, though, before John left for a five-day trip, to visit a friend and go to a meeting in Washington. It didn't start well; Heather just fell apart after he left last night and didn't get to bed until 10:30, and then his friend called at 7:00 in the &$*#@( morning to ask if I knew where John was or if I had his flight information (which I didn't). Of course, the phone woke up Caroline. So much for sleep. (Are you reading this, Mark? Some day I may forgive you...) While John was gone I did something very smart, though -- I had our friends who regularly babysit for us watch Heather and Caroline so I could go out to dinner and a movie by myself. The time alone was really a relief. I was going to see "My Best Friend's Wedding," but the movie theater was jammed and they were totally sold out of that and "Contact," my second choice. So I ended up going to a local art theater and seeing "Ponette," a French movie about a 4-year-old whose mother dies, and how she comes to terms with it. It's a wonderful movie, but the saddest movie I have ever seen. I cried buckets, which I suppose was therapeutic. After John got back, my brother (David) came to visit for a few days. He moved out here this fall to finish his Ph.D. at Berkeley, so he was looking around at apartments and meeting with his advisor. Caroline seems to be very fond of David, but Heather still waxes and wanes: she says she wants to see him, but then hides from him when he's here. Also, she says she doesn't like him now because she doesn't like his haircut. A few weeks after that, we had some bad news: John's sister called early one morning to tell us that their grandmother had fallen and hit her head, was on life support, and wasn't expected to survive much longer. John was very close to her: she raised him during the time he lived in Korea (until he was 5 years old). She lived in L.A. with John's aunt and uncle for many years, but moved back to Korea several months ago so the family there could take care of her. John and Barbara (and some of the other relatives) flew to Korea that night. Sadly, she died before they arrived. They stayed for the funeral, and John and Barbara flew back here, then Barbara stayed and visited for a day. Now John's gone again for a couple of days (to his department's annual retreat at Asilomar), but Grandma Mary is visiting this week, so it should be a piece of cake this time around. (Grandma is really here to go to the opera: we saw Tosca last Sunday, and have tickets for Rigoletto next Saturday. It was great, and I even got to wear a real dress: i.e., one I can't nurse in!) After Grandma leaves, we have just a few days before we leave again: we're visiting the Parks in Boston, New York, and Vermont (fall foliage!) in late September / early October. We'll also get to see Emily Reiss (Heather's friend who moved to Boston), a whole passel of December moms (the mailing list I'm on), and old Harvard friends. It should be a great time! -- THE NIGHT FROM HELL The following does not, fortunately, represent a typical night at our house. But it did really happen. 11:00 p.m. -- After working late, getting home in time to get the kids off to bed, cleaning the kitchen, making Heather's lunch, and relaxing for a few brief minutes, we go to bed. It takes me half an hour to quiet my mind and fall asleep, as usual. 12:30 a.m. -- I roll over and realize I'm soaked. Oh, man, my breasts must have leaked; that hasn't happened in a while. I roll out of bed to change my nightgown and think "that's odd, it's wet in the *back*, and wait, my bra isn't wet." Just then I get dripped on and realize, oh $*&#&, the roof is leaking (we had a very unexpected rainstorm that day, and it was still raining; actually, more like pouring). I say to John, "Oh, no, you're not going to like this." He says in an aggrieved, tired tone, "What is it??" (i.e., "why are you bugging me?") "It's the roof." More obscenities, cursing, and groaning about our fate. To make a long story short, we ended up going up into the attic (via the pull-down stairs in the girls' room; luckily they didn't wake up during all this), putting buckets under the leak (not easy, since it was right near the eaves and the ceiling slopes down to the floor there), going outside in the rain to climb up on the roof and nail down some roofing felt to stop the leak (John climbed, I assisted). We made up the bed in the living room, finally got back to bed around 2, but couldn't sleep, so we ended up eating a bowl of cereal. Finally got back to bed around 2:30, to sleep maybe around 3:00. 4:00 a.m. (or so -- my memory gets real foggy around here) -- Heather wakes up crying, and when I go in, starts to really get upset, saying she wants to come into our bed. Not going to happen (especially when we're sleeping on the futon in the living room)! I just can't settle her back down, so finally I lay down with her and we talk for a while, trying to get to the bottom of it. I think maybe her subconscious heard us up in the attic, and that made her dream there was a monster up there. She won't let me leave, so I curl up with her until she falls sound asleep. I just can't fall asleep there, so finally around 4:45 when she's sound asleep enough to let me leave, I stagger back to the living room and pass out. 5:30 a.m. -- Now it's Caroline's turn; she wakes up crying. I nurse her, then try to put her back to bed, but the poor little thing starts coughing her lungs out. (This cough has been going on for a week or me; we did take her to the doctor, and they said her lungs are OK and her throat looks OK, so we just have to ride it out.) I end up bringing her into our bed, and then John goes into our room to sleep on the dry side of the bed. Finally we drift off around 6. 7:15 a.m. -- The alarm goes off (I had an 8:30 chiropractor appointment. I thought briefly about skipping it, but my wrist has really been acting up lately, and I didn't want to put it off). I pray that the girls will nap this afternoon so that I can get a bit of rest. (Fast forward to...) 7:30 p.m. -- No luck here. Heather didn't nap at all, and was crabby on and off all afternoon. But we did have a nice time reading fairy tales from her new storybook, and playing with a new alphabet jigsaw puzzle. Luckily, Caroline took an unusually long nap (but only after fussing and screaming on and off for a couple of hours), from 3:15 until nearly 6. Finally, John came home with dinner (take-out burritos) so we had two pairs of hands to get the kids ready for bed. 9:30 p.m. -- Heather's in bed, but not Caroline. I thought she was ready to go down, put her in bed, and five minutes later she started howling. John went in to check on her, and realized she was poopy. Changed her and brought her out to me, then went back to work for a while. Caroline was a bit crabby, but sat on my lap for a while, then worked herself up and pooped again! After that, she started deteriorating; finally I put her in bed, but she still wouldn't say down, so I brought her into our room and nursed her, and she finally fell asleep for good. Sort of... 11:00 p.m. -- After cleaning up minimally, re-making our now dry bed, making Heather's lunch, and getting ready for bed, I go to bed and fall asleep in about 2 minutes flat. 11:30 p.m. -- Oh, no, this can't be happening. Heather is howling for her daddy, and nothing I do comforts her. Of course, this wakes Caroline up, who starts screaming at the top of *her* lungs, then coughing like a pneumonia patient. Finally, finally, I get Heather to go back to sleep (she was only half-awake anyway; who knows what was wrong), and take Caroline into our room. But NOTHING I do calms her down at all; I try nursing, walking around, laying her down, singing, talking to her, getting her teething ring from the fridge, giving her a dose of Tylenol, and she just keeps screeching. I know there must be something wrong, but by this time I'm basically hysterical too, thinking "if I don't get some sleep I'm going to DIE." I call John and barely manage to sob out "Caroline won't stop crying, I need you to come home NOW. Come home right NOW." 12:00 a.m. -- John gets home, and takes Caroline. We give her some Robitussin, thinking maybe if we can get the cough under control, she'll settle down. Then he takes her out to the other room so he can sleep. 4:30 a.m. -- John brings Caroline in to nurse (they'd finally fallen asleep on the futon), and after that she goes to sleep in her crib. 7 a.m. -- The alarm goes off; it's John's turn to co-op. I nurse Caroline, and watch her while John gets ready and gets Heather up, then they leave for day care. I think, "at least I can sleep for an hour before I have to get up for my 10:00 meeting", and fall back asleep around 8. 8:25 -- Cruel fate, what did I do to deserve this??? Across the street, they're pruning a tree with a chainsaw! I try and try, but there's just no way I'm going to be able to get back to sleep. I even called the local police to see if there's a noise ordinance (yes, but chainsaws and leaf blowers are allowed between 8-5 on weekdays. Guess whoever wrote that ordinance didn't have small children). Epilogue -- We now have a new roof on our house; hooray! We went to the doctor again yesterday, since Caroline's cough has improved a bit but is still pretty bad. She's on antibiotics, so we'll see if that helps. She's still not really sleeping through the night, but last night she slept from 12:30 until 5:30, then woke up again to nurse at 7:30 and fell back asleep in our bed, and slept until 9:40!! So perhaps we're heading into a better pattern. I hope. -- STAY TUNED ...for the next episode of the Heather and Caroline Show!