Friday, July 29, 2005

Moving Up...

My daughter is moving up to the next class at her daycare starting Monday morning. I'm not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing. I hope it is a good thing. She will probably not move up again until the Spring which is in about another 6 months or so. My only concern is that they are dividing up her class. Her class is made up of 8 children who are all born between June 18 and August 28th. They're all on about the same level developmentally with some a little farther ahead and some a little farther behind. I like to think that my daughter is a little farther ahead based on the talking I've heard in the class. However, they aren't examining the children to decide how to divide them up; they're going by their birthdays. June and July in the older class, August in the younger. Since my daughter is an August birthday, she goes in the younger class.

One of the things that I like about daycare is how they learn from each other. Even when it is things that I don't want her learning (biting, shoving, "mine", etc.), I know that they do learn a lot from each other. So, I asked who else will be in the class with them. Some of the kids out of the next youngest class (12-18 month olds since she is in the 18-24 month old class) was the answer. These kids, I am told, are at least 4 months younger. Honestly, she won't learn from them. Most likely, she'll just bully them. Much as I hate to admit it, I think my daughter's a bully. I'm not happy about it, but I'm a realist. In my opinion, she should be in with older (bigger) kids who she can't push around as easily. Children who are 4 months younger are easier to push around than the current group. Maybe she'll stop biting. Only because it will be easier to rip the toy out of the younger kid's hand. They'll be no need for biting. I guess if she gets to be too much of a bully, they can always move her up again.

Plus, in the next few months, I have big plans for my little girl. We are going to get rid of the dummy if it's the last thing I do. I'm just trying to decide the best time. I want it to be gone for at least a couple of months before the baby is born. Here's my reasoning. We are going to take the dummy away. When I do it, I want there to be no dummies in the house. Period. If I wait until after the baby, the baby will probably have a dummy (I haven't decided on this yet since I've had such a hard time getting my daughter to give it up, but I don't think it hurts infants to have it; realistically, it doesn't hurt my daughter to have it, but that's beside the point). I don't want my daughter to lose all of hers and start taking the baby's dummy. So, I still have some time, but not too much. However, I need some daycare cooperation on this one. I need to know that they aren't going to give it back to her. Not sure how to work this. I can get rid of it over a weekend to get her used to taking naps without it, but I have to know that daycare won't give it back to her (again).

Also, there will be some potty training. That won't be until after the baby though. I don't need the stress of her getting mostly trained and then relapsing because she's not getting enough attention. So, I've decided potty training can wait. I'd like her potty trained by 3. That's my goal, and for now, I consider it realistic. She already has a potty chair, and she likes to sit on our toilet at home. What a waste of money on the potty chair. However, what usually happens is she gets her little butt arranged on the seat and then says, "Hand." This originally meant, Mommy, I'm afraid I'm going to fall in, please hold onto my hands. Now, however, if I give her one hand, she then wants the other hand. At that point, with a big grin on her face, she breaks into "Row, Row, Row Your Boat." She knows the rule is no playing on the potty. But, Daddy usually breaks down and plays a little row-row when he thinks I'm not looking (and once in a while, I play along, too, because I can't resist the grin--it's such a self-satisfied-look-what-I-got-you-to-do grin). But, she does like to try and go to the bathroom (usually at inconvenient times). Usually nothing comes out though. This is one milestone I'm not ready to get to yet. But, again, I want her with older children at daycare when we get there. She's not going to learn to go sit on the potty from younger kids who aren't ready.

I'm blowing this way out of proportion, I'm sure. I think things will be good. In fact, as I was leaving for work this morning, her new teacher in the next class stopped me and asked if she could call me for about 10-15 minutes this weekend some time. It's a "Let's talk about what's important for my daughter in this class" talk, and I think that's an excellent way to start. I can express my concerns over her biting, warn her the pacifier is going bye-bye soon (so she better be prepared), and discuss how potty training works as she gets older. I really like the teacher, so hopefully, I'm just over-reacting and there will be no problems.

Part of my problem is that I'm stressed about my daughter's upcoming birthday. My mother-in-law is coming in on her birthday and staying through the weekend. I love my mother-in-law. I got really lucky. So that's not what's stressing me.

What's stressing me is that it looks like my grandmother is coming in as well. Because my mother-in-law will be staying with us, I'm sure my grandmother will tell my mother (because she never tells me; only guilt trips my mother) that she made all the effort to come see us and she didn't get to see my daughter nearly as much as she would like. But, she may surprise me.

I hope everyone has a great weekend!

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Harry Potter....

Well, I'm about 4 pages into Harry Potter. After running errands after work yesterday, I went home, did laundry, did dishes, gave my husband a haircut, my daughter a bath, and didn't have time to get started on Harry Potter. Probably just as well. I would have stayed up late reading it. I've heard so many things about it. Some love it, some hate it. I guess I'll have to read it to see what I think.

I'm hoping for better than the 5th book. I thought he had settled into the teenage routine in that one. He always seemed so depressed and angry. I just wanted him to snap out of it (I know from experience that you can't just snap out of depression). I know he had a lot on his mind, but that one was kind of depressing to read in my opinion.

Unfortunately, Mimi and Dede went out of town, so I don't even have someone to take my little munchkin off my hands so that I can read all evening. I guess I have to wait until she goes to bed. Oh, this mothering stuff is so hard!

We tried to see if my daughter would watch another animated movie besides Nemo. We pulled out all of the movies that we have that are animated. So, we tried The Jungle Book. She used to love that one. When she was about 6 months old, I could put her in her exersaucer in front of the TV and put it on the song, "The Bear Necessities." I knew I had 15 minutes of uninterrupted time to myself. I believe that a mother's sanity is worth plopping them in front of the TV at an early age.

No go on The Jungle Book. "I want watch Meno."

So, I guess I'm stuck with Meno. Realistically, there are much worse things. There are many movies that I couldn't stand to watch a second time. And we won't even get started on Barney. So, Meno it is.

And I was so excited to see that the picture that I put in actually worked. My first picture was Nemo. Hmmmm.....I think I'm spending too much time watching kids' movies......

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

Finding "Meno"

A couple of years ago, Pixar and Disney put out a little film you may have heard of. It's called Finding Nemo.

Well, in a recent moment of desperation, I turned Nemo on for my daughter to watch so I could get some work done around the house. Unlike other Disney favorites, it didn't have too much of a story for her to follow, so I let her watch it.

I should have known it would be a mistake.

First of all, according to my daughter, his name is "Meno" not "Nemo." No matter how hard we have tried to fix this little part, she refuses to call him Nemo.

"Can you say Neeeeemooooo?"
"Can you say Neeee.....?"

Okay, fine. Meno it is. So, now I have to remember to keep calling him Nemo so that she'll eventually learn it correctly. But that's hard. He may be Meno forever.

Second of all, she doesn't understand that there are two different clownfish in the movie. Which is kind of funny when you think of it. I'm not sure how it works out in her head that Nemo keeps going back and forth between the ocean and the fish tank. Actually, I don't think she actually realizes that there's a story to it (although I could be surprised). I think it's like one big fish aquarium to her.

And lastly, I've almost got the movie memorized. I have to admit that I can actually still watch it. Every day.

My daughter's daycare has a fish aquarium in the hall. There are often kids gathered around tapping on the glass. I think they have a Nemo theme going on. There are two clownfish, a Dory (I have no idea what kind of fish that is, but most people know what Dory looks like), and a yellow fish like the one in the aquarium who gets really excited about the bubbles.

I'm sure that my daughter will want to watch Meno tonight. Probably in the middle of something I want to watch. That's usually the case. We start watching a show, and she will come up and say, "I wanna watch Meno."
"In a little while."
"I watch Meno."
"Not right now."

Then she walks over and sits in front of the DVD player silently willing it to start playing Nemo.

In completely unrelated news, my copy of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince has arrived at my house. Let the reading begin. Except tonight is hair cut night. As well as do all the laundry and clean up the house night. And my husband is making homemade (well, sort of) pizza for dinner. So I'll probably do the dishes. And my little princess needs a bath. So, I'm guessing that when I wake up at 2:00 in the morning, I'll probably just get out of bed and go read. And I'll regret that tomorrow when I'm falling asleep at my desk.

Monday, July 25, 2005

Has Anyone Seen...

the pregnancy fairy? You know, the one who brings you a trouble-free, stress-free, wonderful second trimester. She has missed her appointment with me.

I am willing to grant that the first trimester will include morning (ha! that's a joke) sickness and sleepiness followed by bouts of insomnia. Lots of hormones and such.

And I am willing to understand that by the third trimester, I will be a big as a house, so my back will hurt and I will be ready to be done with pregnancy and holding my little guy/girl in my arms.

But seriously, all the books say that around 12 or 13 weeks, magically, you don't feel as sick, you don't feel as tired. Energy returns and you're feeling better. I'm 16 weeks, 2 days, and the magical fairy hasn't come to relieve the fun morning sickness that lasts all day, and I feel like I need a nap every afternoon. Apparently, when I filled out my appointment slip, I forgot to include that I have a child already who is almost 2 who is trying my patience and pushing me to the point of a nervous breakdown.

Oh, and I don't appreciate her sending me fun third trimester stuff ahead of time. If I wanted to know exactly where my hipbones were, I would get an x-ray. I don't need to feel them moving around. The backaches can go away too.

So, yes. Most of these are my fault. My OB's nurse-practioner told me to graze all day so that I never get too full or too hungry. Well, I try (trust me, I do), but I can't do that very well at work.

And I would probably do better to have a set bedtime schedule and go to sleep at the same time, get plenty of sleep and get up at the same time each day. It would probably help if I didn't hit the snooze 6 times every morning. Sometimes 7. It would be fewer if I had a normal alarm clock. Before this one, every alarm clock I've ever owned goes off 9 minutes after you hit snooze. Never understood where they got 9 minutes, but whatever. This one is 7 minutes. So, you can do the math. 7 minutes, 7 times per morning. Alarm set at 6. I get up at 6:42 some mornings. But most mornings, it's 6:49. Why don't I just set the alarm for 6:45 and get up when it goes off? Good question. Habit, I guess.

And a few careful back exercises designed especially for pregnant women would probably do wonders for me. However, I've never been big into exercise.

And the feeling of my hips spreading. Well, knock on wood, that only happened yesterday, and it better not come back. Or else I'm going to kill me a pregnancy fairy.

Friday, July 22, 2005

Vocabulary of a Toddler

My daughter is getting to be a pretty good talker. Over the past couple of months, her vocabulary has expanded, and she strings words together into sentences. Some of my favorites are:

"Go 'way." This, quite simply put, is go away. She uses this if you're bothering her or if she isn't getting her way.

"I want do the dishes." Thank goodness. I figure in a few months, I won't have to do anything but the knives.

"Don't wan' it." This one is used to for anything you're trying to give her whether she wants it or not. Most of the time, she'll say, "Don't wan' it," followed by, "Mine!" (another favorite of hers).

Sorry I haven't been around. I've been feeling like crap for the past couple of days. A summer cold, I think. I just sit at work wishing I could go home. I did actually go home yesterday afternoon.

My daughter's biting has continued. I don't know what to do, but I don't think daycare is concerned. When I came out of her classroom the other day on our way home, the director was walking down the hall, and she saw my look of ....I don't know....exasperated desperation. She told me that they just keep working with them. They eventually learn that you can't bite other kids. I think if my daughter was older it would be a bigger deal, but she's not even 2 yet, so they know only so much can be done. I just want to know if my child is the only one, you know? Are there other little cannibals in the class?

Well, I'm tired of using my daughter and my husband, etc. So, I have to come up with some names I can insert to use for the members of my household. For the baby, I'm thinking Little Bugger. That's what I call him/her when I'm talking to my husband anyway. So, that just leaves me with two more names to come up with.

I hope everyone has a great weekend!

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

My Doctor's Appointment

went well. I got there right at 8:30. I didn't have to wait very long. And, of course, my insurance card has changed. My insurance company decided that it wasn't a good idea to use my social security number for an ID number. So, now I have some random number.

My doctor's office has some medical assistant student working for them now. So, instead of seeing Gwen, I got to see Misty. Misty was supposed to do the little things (weight check, blood pressure, etc.). Well, I got on the scale. And Misty started adjusting the little thingys. And she wouldn't stop. It was pretty balanced. Good enough. Not for Misty. Adjustments continued. She had to figure out my exact weight. I've gained 2 lbs.

Then she wanted a urine sample. She left my poor husband standing around in the hallway instead of showing him what room I would be in. But, okay, she's new. She took my blood pressure and gave me a sheet (I knew going in that I was going to have a pap smear). Um, okay. Usually get the whole gown, but whatever. She came back in a few minutes later to give me the gown. I normally get to hear the heartbeat at this point, but no such luck. I told my husband that I wasn't leaving without hearing the heartbeat.

Marie, the nurse practitioner (I love her!), came in. We chatted and went over the usual stuff at 16 weeks. She asked if I had any questions. "Um, yeah, do we get to hear the heartbeat?"

"Well, of course. Misty's new."

So, that's what we started with for my exam. Listening to the elusive heartbeat. We heard it right away. And then it disappeared. When we would check my daughter's heartbeat, it was always clear and never moved. My daughter would punch and kick at the little machine. This little bugger runs away. Hahahahahaha, the jokes on him (or her). He (she) won't always have room to do that.

So, we did the rest of the exam. Cervix looks good (yes, I always knew I had a good looking cervix). No obvious problems.

And then we went for the heartbeat again. Apparently, most babies are a little more cooperative after being poked and prodded. And mine is no exception. He (she) stayed put and let us get a good reading on the heartbeat. It was 152 bpm.

So, overall, we had a great appointment.

And, I received clarification on what "creatures" are worth waking my husband up over. (Just so everyone knows, my husband wasn't actually mad or mean over the mouse incident -- we just like to mess with each other. I know that sarcasm doesn't come over the internet very well). My husband told me unless it is a mammal that is squirrel sized or larger, don't wake him up. Unless it is a squirrel sized cockroach (not technically a mammal). He doesn't want that scurrying across his face in the middle of the night.

Monday, July 18, 2005

If You Feed A Mouse A Cookie...

If you ever wake up in the middle of the night to a strange noise that sounds like a little creature (aka a mouse) scratching around, IGNORE IT AND GO BACK TO SLEEP.

NEVER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES should you poke your husband and say, nonchalantly I might add, "Um, honey, I think there's a little creature in here."

And when he gives you an easy out by pretending that the cat might have gotten let in earlier, TAKE IT! Just assume it's the cat and that you'll deal with it in the morning.

Whatever you do, DO NOT follow up with, "No, I don't think it's her. It sounded more like what the gerbils used to do." (We owned gerbils for about a year. Not anything I will ever do again.)

By this point, my poor husband who is blind as a bat without his contacts tells me to turn on the light and see if I can see it. I can't. Can I try to find his glasses? They give him a headache, so he hasn't worn them in forever. I managed to find them. By this point, I have pinpointed the noise to our computer desk. On top of the desk.

So, after a little bit of rustling, I see the little bugger. A teeny-tiny little thing about an inch or so long. Seriously, it was tiny. Well, he runs under a little trash pile. Maybe now my husband will try not to leave gum wrappers everywhere.

He instructs me to go find a butter tub that we have saved. What the hell? We don't save butter tubs, but at 2:30 in the morning, I'll try to find something rather than point this fact out to him. I come back with a couple little tupperwares which he assures me won't work. I find a fairly deep cookie tin that he thinks he can make work -- apparently the plan is for the mouse to run into the tin and then cover it with the lid. I'm already wishing that the video camera was poised because this could be worth money.

He has yet to see the mouse. So, when something falls off the desk, I jumped. His comment: "Oh, please. Are you afraid of the mouse?! We had gerbils!"

"No, I'm not afraid of a mouse but of things that pop out without warning!"

"Oh, okay." I don't think he believed me.

So after he carefully removes stuff from the desk, we cannot find the mouse anywhere. My husband assures me that it must have run off the desk and is probably making a nest in my pillows. How sweet! Can you see why I married the guy?

Then, he gets this look of realization mixed with horror as he has figured out where the mouse probably is. "I bet it's in my computer."

"No way."

"Yeah, there's a little port on the back that he could squeeze through if he's as small as you say."
Trying not to laugh, he carefully pulls the panel off the computer. As much fun as he made of me about being afraid of the mouse, I am certain that had the little bugger jumped at him, he would have jumped big time. I could tell he was braced for a flying rodent. Once he pulled the panel on the side away, there was the little mouse sitting in his computer. The mouse quickly ran under some component (I'm so computer savvy that I call all the little card thingys -- another technical term -- components because it sounds so technical).

"How many cords are plugged in back there?"


"Okay, start unplugging them." So, I started unplugging the cords from the back of the computer paying careful attention to what plugged in where.

He then carried the entire CPU to the front porch. The mouse scurried away a few minutes later.

Crisis averted. Total time: 45 minutes. Total time to go back to sleep: 2 hours.

Poor hubby had a headache from dealing with his glasses for so long.

However, I did have a small reward for my sleep sacrifice. When the alarm went off for the 8th time this morning (yes, I know exactly how many times I can hit snooze), I turned it off. That means that I can't go back to sleep or I will be late. So, I was lying there trying not to close my eyes again. I was lying on my stomach, and I felt the baby rolling around. Not just once, but 3 or 4 times in the minute I laid there. It was so exciting. I've felt the little bugger move some, but this was such definite movement. And the other times I've felt him, it's been one time and then nothing. This was several times.

I have another doctor's appointment tomorrow. It's the fun appointment where the run a few blood tests and I get a pelvic exam. I hate those. Especially when I'm pregnant and they make me bleed (sorry if TMI). But, I will get to hear the little heartbeat again, so I'm excited about that.

Things should calm down now that my boss is back. Yay! And she didn't have to spend all day trying to fix mistakes I made because there were none! Even bigger YAY! So, there should be a little more time for posting.

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Busy, Busy, Busy

Now I know why the lead secretary in our department takes off two weeks every year. Since I have been doing her job last week and this week, I have a new found respect for all that she does. There are so many little things that I never knew about.

On the other hand, I feel really good about myself. It's a self-esteem boost to take care of all the little things so that she doesn't have to do much to catch up when she returns. Next week will be bad if she has to correct all of my mistakes. I hope there aren't many. I have tried very hard to make sure there aren't.

Therefore, I haven't had much time for blogging. And I've wanted to. I've really started to feel the baby moving around. About once a day or so. And yesterday after lunch, I felt about 4 or 5 good kicks in the course of an hour. My husband assures me that's because there are two in there. Haha, honey, not funny.

He is absolutely certain that this baby is a girl. I am just as certain that the baby is a boy. Here's his logic. His father was one of 4 boys. And I think his grandfather had only brothers as well. So, he thinks things have swung the opposite direction, and that now there's going to be a girl reign. He has a brother and a sister. So, before I started making fun of him for such crazy logic (I mean, really, we're basing this on family history and his predictions for the future?), I had to think about my "proof" of a boy. My logic? The pencil test said it's a boy. How's that for scientific? Oh, plus the three dreams. Further scientific proof. And my general feeling that I'm having a boy. I'll never hear the end of it if it's a girl.

My daughter is a nature lover. Or at least an animal lover. Even bugs. When I dropped her off yesterday morning, her teacher informed me that the day before they had been playing on the playground. She saw a group of kids huddled around my daughter. She was busy showing off a bug. Her teacher told her, "Ewww, put it down!"

Well, being the only girl and growing up on a farm, bugs don't bother me. Neither do snakes or any other little creatures. My sixth grade bug collection for my science class was out of sight. Way better than anyone elses. Plus I had grubs. Beat that. I had them before they were "yucky bugs."

Anyway, I digress. A couple of weeks ago, while at my parents' house, my daughter and I were on the front porch, and I saw a roly poly. I showed her how they curl up when you mess with them. I don't want my daughter to be afraid of bugs. And she's not. I had to teach her that we don't play with all bugs when she decided that she wanted to pick up some ants nearby. Ooops.

If I had been her daycare teacher, I would have taken it from her and launched into a lecture on what it is and such, but I'm not, so she put the bug down and her teacher obsessively washed her hands for the rest of the day.

Well, last night, at 5:13 AM, my dogs started howling. They howl at ambulances. It is rather annoying in the middle of the night, but since all of the people who live within earshot have dogs as well, and all of their dogs howl as well, I assume we all lie in bed cursing the dogs and hoping the stop soon. I have two dogs, Shadow and Buddy. Shadow is a champion howler. He sounds very good. Very wolf-like. Buddy, well, he tries. But, his "howl" can hardly be described as such. It sounds sick. Very unpracticed.

So, they start howling at 5:13 this morning, and I hear my daughter start crying. She never wakes up when they howl, so I get out of bed telling my husband, "If those f---ing dogs woke her up at 5:15 AM, I am going to kill them."*

I went into my daughter's room, and picked her up. "Puppies cry, Mama. Puppies crying." Oh, I'll give them something to cry about if my daughter doesn't go back to sleep at 5:15 in the morning.* "Yes, sweetie. They're okay. Go back to sleep." Fortunately, she did.

I thought it was cute that she was so worried about the dogs. She really loves animals even our two big dogs.

*Just to be perfectly clear, I would never hurt my dogs no matter how much I am tempted at 5:15 in the morning.

Friday, July 08, 2005

Ugh! The Biting...

has got to stop. If you know how to make a child stop biting, I'm all ears!

This is what I've dealt with the past 2 3 weeks.

Tuesday, almost 3 weeks ago: "Your daughter bit someone today, but she was trying to hold onto her toy, so it's no big deal." Yes, she actually said that it's no big deal. It is to me. Damn it, it's been so long. She's been doing well. That means that I have to sign a form. So, I read the form while the teacher waits impatiently. I don't know if I'm the only parent who actually reads it before I sign it, but I'm not signing it without reading it. She bit a little boy (oops, they're not supposed to tell me that) on the arm because he was trying to take her toy. It was 8:30, and the teacher was Ramona. Hmm...Ramona. Don't know her. Haven't ever heard of her. I drop her off at 7:30 with Angela. Why does she already have a different teacher one hour later? And who the hell is Ramona? I'm already inclined to dislike her because she didn't fill out the form correctly. They fill out the same form for the biter and the bitee. Under the section on what she did after the incident, she told how she took care of the other child. Um, hello! It might be more helpful to me to know how my child was punished. Are we all consistent in handling the situation? You know, time out, loss of toy, severe beating, etc. Totally kidding about the beating by the way. I assume that she loses the toy and can't play with it. Fine, one time thing. No big deal.

Thursday, same week: "Your daughter bit someone again today." Okay, give me the damn form. Hmmm.....Ramona, 8:35, fighting over a toy, still not filled out correctly. Okay, I'm going to remain calm and not go off on a teacher that I've never seen or heard of in front of her co-worker. We'll deal with it if it happens again.

Friday, next week (a week ago): "She bit a kid about half an hour ago." I picked her up a noon because we were leaving town. Because there were so "few" kids, they had combined two classes, so there were about 15 kids in this classroom with Angela guessed it....Ramona. Since Angela filled out the form, I read through it and sign it. Fighting over a toy. What is Ramona doing in this time? Of course, I am watching her...she is standing in the middle of the room looking lost and confused. I'm so not kidding. One of my daughter's classmates comes up to her holding her tennis shoes. Her response, "Uh, Angela, whose shoes are these?" Well, let's see. The child who brought you the shoes is wearing only socks. Every other child in the room is wearing his/her shoes. Let's use the process of elimination to try and figure out whose shoes they might be. No wonder my daughter bit someone. It's very hard for her teacher to watch 15 instead of the usual 7.

Okay, in case you're wondering why this is pissing me off so much (and why I sound like I blame daycare completely -- which I don't).

1. She doesn't bite at home. Only other children who are trying to take her toys. Therefore, the tone I get when they tell me that she bit another child is so accusatory (like I failed as a parent) and it is laced with a what-are-you-going-to-do-about-it tone. Um, well, 7 hours after the fact, there's not much I can do, now, is there? I can take her home and tell her how biting is wrong. I have. She'll tell you, plain as day, "Biting, no! Biting bad!" That's right.

2. But biting is effective. Child grabs toy trying to take it away, my child bites said child, said child lets go instantly. How can I argue with something so effective? The thing is this. My daughter can be pretty loud. If a child tries to take her toy, she will cause a commotion to say the least. I've watched her do this at daycare (yes, I spy through the window in the door when I pick her up). Angela goes over and handles the situation before anyone gets bitten. So, as I see it, one of two things is happening. My daughter is making a scene and Ramona isn't reacting to it, so my daughter "solves" the problem. Or my daughter goes straight to biting (which I can't imagine). The only reason that I can think of that she would do that is that Ramona has made it clear in the past that she's not going to react.

3. My daughter bites children on the arms and hands to get them to let go of a toy. It always involves someone taking her toy (or what she thinks should be her toy). She doesn't get in a little baby fight with another child and pull hair and bite. She doesn't just go around randomly biting people. Just those who have "her" toy. All I want to know is what the toy is and if it is the same toy every time. I think it is. There are 2 or 3 of every toy in the classroom except for the shopping cart. My daughter has one at home, so I can imagine her claiming it as hers even if she didn't have her hands on it first. There is one shopping cart. Here's a thought. If we don't have at least 2, don't put it in the classroom. I'm sure it's a well documented fact that the fewer there are of a toy, the more popular it becomes.

4. Angela tells me at least every other day that "She tried to bite someone, but I stopped her." Great. That's your job. You want a medal? I pay you to make sure no one hurts her and that she doesn't hurt anyone else. At least Angela stops her in time.

Okay, I worked in a daycare, so I'm trying not to blame them. I know. From reading this post, it doesn't sound like that at all. But really, I am trying. The problem is that I don't have a way to work on this. She doesn't do it at home. She does it at daycare.

Enough of the rant. I do have a good story. I took my daughter outside so that the dishes could be done without her "help." We were sitting in the driveway, and I told her to sing me a song. She did! I couldn't believe it.

She stood in front of me and moved her hand up and down, smacked herself on the forehead, did the "raining" part from the Itsy-Bitsy Spider and then shook her finger and said, "No, no, no!" The entire time she was "singing" the words. You had to see the first hand movement to realize that she was singing, "Little Bunny Foo-Foo."

It was so adorable. Then she ran in circles around me and squatted down. I recognized this one as her version of "Ring Around The Rosie."

She was in a great mood last night; therefore, so was I. Until she woke up at 4:30 this morning. Doesn't she realize that mommy needs sleep? And that Mimi isn't home to hand her off to (my mother is an angel -- I usually get to sleep late on Saturday mornings because my mom comes in and takes my daughter when she thinks it's time to get up at 7:00 am)? After an hour of patting, dummy searching, milk fetching, and more patting, she goes back to sleep. Okay. Do you have any idea how hard it is to fall back asleep at 5:35 am knowing that the alarm will go off at 6?

Maybe that's why I'm a grouch today. But Mimi comes home tonight, so I should get to sleep late tomorrow. That ought to help.

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

4th of July

We had a good trip to visit my grandparents in Oklahoma for our 4th of July. My parents, my daughter, and I crammed into their little Saturn. In all fairness, it's not that little, but if you're riding in the back seat and you put the car seat in the middle of the back seat, it makes for a very uncomfortable ride.

My dad's brothers were there as well and brought their families. So, now everyone knows that I'm having a baby. At least none of them seemed to think I was carrying twins (my parents won't quit with the jokes).

My daugher was a doll. So precious and sweet. They have no idea what she is really like. We got her a little wading pool, and once she drenched me with the hose, I just got in the pool with her. What is better than a cool pool on a 100 degree day? Nothing I can think of.

Sorry for the absence. Work has been busy and they actually expect me to work. I mean, really. The nerve. So kidding. I don't want to get dooced or anything. Actually, I love being busy at work. The day just flies by, and I feel so important.

I'm hungry. And I just ate. The hunger just doesn't turn off at all. I'm going to gain a ton of weight. I'm always hungry, and I eat as often as I feel up to it.

Almost time to go.....I'll try to post more tomorrow.