Bad Mommy

About a week ago Alex was sent home from daycare with a 102 degree temperature.  By the time we picked her up and got her home she was clearly not feeling well but wasn't registering an abnormally high temperature so I figured she was teething again.  She went to bed and the next morning when she woke up she had a rash all over her face, legs, and arms.  Crap.  She was also clearly miserable and Marcus and I spent the entire weekend tag-teaming her as every 15 minutes (it felt that way) she would start crying and would be rather inconsolable until some solution was found whether it was a sippy cup with milk, a toy to preoccupy her, or Tylenol.  We even took her to the doctor on Sunday because by then we were at a loss as to what was wrong.  Naturally, we spent the $25 copay to only be told it was a virus that had to run its course.  Side Note:  Come to find out someone in her class had Hand, Foot, Mouth disease so I'm thinking she caught a variation of that.  Anyway, long story short for about a week she had the remnants of a nasty looking rash all over her body and face and in an attempt to help clear it up I went out and bought Aveeno baby bath wash and lotion.  Aveeno works wonderfully for me so I figured it would do the same for Alex.  After a few days of lathering her up in the tub with the Aveeno wash and then making sure she had a liberal amount of lotion applied to her body before bed I expected great results.  Only, the rash was getting worse.  It was getting more red and angry looking.  I was perplexed.  That was, until I noticed one night as I was about to lotion her up that what I was actually applying to her skin and sending her to bed in was body wash.  I was generously applying body wash, putting her in her PJs, and kissing her goodnight all like the dumb a$$ I am.  The poor baby took it like a champ and never seemed bothered by it though I suppose if it had gone on much longer she would have started to complain.  I'm just glad I caught it when I did and didn't find myself at the doctor wondering what this unexplainable rash was and why it wouldn't go away.  So, here we are, a week later and Alex's skin is looking marvelous.  I'll chalk that one up to being a blonde because there really is no other explanation.  

My Friends Just Call Me "Crazy"

So, remember that time I said, and I quote, "The fact of the matter is while another child is definitely in the future for us I need to become one of the women I despise in order to go through it again. With that being said does anyone have any suggestions on how I can drive myself bat-shit crazy because that’s the only way this is happening" in regards to being pregnant for a second time?  Well, uh, hi.  Nice to meet you.  I'm Bat-Shit Crazy.

How, you ask, did this happen? Other than the more conventional way, my guess is the following, all of which took place at the end of December/beginning of January in what can only be described as a comedy of errors:

1. At the end of December I bought a pair of really nice jeans that I knew wouldn't fit but could act as a goal to work towards because I was still carrying about 8 pounds of pregnancy weight.  (Kuddos to a few friends of Marcus's who asked if I was back to my pre-Alex weight.  That was very thoughtful.  It must have been my pregnancy glow.)
2. Shortly after I bought the aforementioned jeans I took a HPT which came back positive. After digesting the news I realized I would be pregnant for my sister's June wedding so I hurriedly (read: totally jumped the gun) purchased a maternity dress for the occasion. Soon after getting the positive results on the HPT it turned out to be a false-positive (more on that later), so I sent the dress back only to find myself pregnant (for real) a month later.  Did you follow all of that?  I then went back to re-purchase the dress and discovered it was no longer available thus I had to start the search for a maternity dress for a wedding all over again. (In the end it worked out for the best because the new dress is gorgeous.)
3. Also, after realizing I wasn't pregnant I decided to pick-up running again because damnit, those jeans were super cute plus I wanted to lose the last few pounds before even thinking of getting pregnant again. Ha!
4. I then paid a $65 registration fee to sign-up for my first race in over a year as the motivation needed to continue running.
5. Finally, during the mid-January time-frame, right before I knew I was pregnant, I reconnected with my ballet instructor from years ago and promised that I would come back to class in March. In between the time I saw her and the time classes started I discovered I was pregnant but the last thing I wanted to do was go back on my word (because that's what she would have expected after all of these years) so I found myself in class for the first time in 15 years during one of the worst few weeks of the first trimester, twirling and leaping and fighting back nausea all at the same time.

And that's it.  My 5, fool-proof ways for ensuring you will get pregnant.  We'll call it the "Tepaske Method."  Also, I suppose I should look into changing the title of my blog.  But "You and Me Equals Three Plus One" doesn't have as nice a ring to it.

*This post will be a good test to see who actually reads this blog.

Not Much To Say

I haven't written in a long time for a few reasons.  1. I have been inspired to write about a few things in particular, and those posts are waiting in the wings, but I'm not ready to release them yet.  2.  There is just not that much going on right now; we are dull, dull people.  Our day begins at 6:30 and ends at 10:00 and I honestly can't tell you what we do of interest during those times.  Other than looking forward to, and promptly forgetting, certain TV shows during the evening our lives revolve around waking, eating, and making sure Alex is happy.  Every now and then we're jolted out of our humdrum existence by a get-together at a friend's house but those last only a few hours for us as we revolve our schedule around Alex's.  While it would be easy enough to find a babysitter it's not easy enough to part with $10 an hour so we can hang out at someone's house for a few hours (and it would only be a "few" because we certainly aren't going to pay upwards of $50 for a night of sitting around and chatting).  I guess what I should say, in an attempt to not offend any friends, is that for $10 an hour something really major better be taking place.  We've tried to hold get-togethers at our place but that gets harder as Alex gets older because the last thing we want is for her to wake up during the night while we're having a few bottles of wine.  Not to mention, we ourselves can barely keep our heads lifted after 10:00 at night making us very dull hosts, especially for our friends who somehow have the energy to keep the party going well into the night.  Ah, I remember those days fondly.  Although, I do not miss the mornings that resulted from nights like that.  In fact, I can distinctly remember the very last time I had a morning that was beyond miserable and it was in November after seeing the Jay-Z/Kanye West show at Verizon Center with a few best buds of mine.  One best bud is quite the instigator when it comes to drinking more than should legally be allowed and I'm quite the follower when it comes to drinking more than should legally be allowed so together we make a very fun pair at night and a very gnarly pair in the morning.  I suppose what has really changed is that now, when we do get the chance to go out, it's that much more special.  The time spent with friends and enjoying our "freedom" means much more now than it did pre-Alexandra.  Alex has added so much more to our lives not just because she is who she is but because she gives us pause to really appreciate what we have.

My Baby Was Bit!

I received a phone call this morning from Alex's daycare informing me that one of the other children had bit Alex hard enough to break the skin.  My very first thought upon hearing this was "How the hell did they manage to do that when she was wearing jeans?!"  The biter must have some set of chompers on him or her.  Then I wondered what Alex did to deserve such a biting.  She was in a terribly bad mood this morning so who knows if she said or did something mean.  Marcus then reminded me that she was probably in a bad mood this morning because I have little patience for what she thinks is a fun changing routine.  This basically involves a lot of crying, alligator death rolls, and the ever popular "limp baby" when I'm trying to pull her pants up.  Only 13 short months of life and she knows all the tricks of the trade.  Anyway, the whole situation makes me sad because Alex has now come into contact with her first bully.  I was kind of hoping we'd be forced to deal with this a few years down the line.  Luckily, her memory is only about two weeks long so this episode should fade quickly.  I just hope that whoever did bite her keeps on their guard because I've seen the size of the teeth Alex has coming in and they are no joke.

Update, 28-MAR-2012:  If the daycare hadn't informed us of the biting incident I never would have realized anything was wrong.  There was barely a mark on her at all.  I think they were a bit over-dramatic in their description of the bite.

And She's Off!

Well, folks, we have a walker.  Alex took her first official steps at the beginning of March and in the past two weeks she's progressed to walking short (very short) distances usually between whatever she is holding onto and either Marcus or I.  And she does it with the best sh*t eating grin you've ever seen.  She knows she's doing something big.  Of course, she's also probably grinning because Marcus and I are typically laughing our heads off as she stumbles around like a drunken fool.  I really have never seen anyone run into walls as much as Alex.  Not even at 2:00 in the morning, after last call, have I seen such stumbling.  Luckily, she's a pretty happy "drunk" and laughs it off rather than getting pissed off at the wall for getting in her way (I'm pretty sure we all have one of those friends).  She's also come close to a face-plant or two which I have definitely seen her father do on one or more occasion after a night of fun.  I digress.

This walking thing is really going to send our world upside down, not like Alex herself hasn't already done so.  For now we're able to keep up with her diaper butt and keep her out of trouble but I foresee that once she really starts motoring around things are going to change.  The bookcases are going to have to be rearranged, Alex will probably take care of that for us, and just about anything else within a 3' reach from the ground will have to be removed.  Oh, Lord.  I don't know if I'm ready for this!

Ballet

I elegantly slide my foot into the canvas shoe and tighten the drawstring in anticipation of my long-awaited return to the ballet barre.  As I gracefully walk across the floor, head held high, stomach lean and taut, legs long and limber, shoulders back I think of how amazing it will be to put 13 years of previously unused knowledge to use.  As the instructor begins I claim my spot at the head of the class not wanting to miss a thing.  My plies are perfect; Entendues enchanting; Arabesque's amazing.  I pirouette across the room in a blur of beauty.  Everyone must wonder who this magnificent creature is.  Where did she come from?  Who trained her?  It is as if Anna Pavlova herself is channeling my body in her final performance of the Dying Swan.

What really happened:

I fuss with my new canvas ballet shoes hoping the shoddy stitch job I did on the straps hold up during class.  For 13 years I never had to sew a thing because my mom always did.  The night before I was half-tempted to call her at 9:00 and ask if she would finish sewing the straps on for me.  As I stand up and readjust my outfit I see in the mirror bulges that were not there earlier when I first got dressed at home.  Damnit.  Where did those come from?  I plod across the floor trying to ignore the belly pushing my pants down and wishing I had remembered to put on deodorant and brushed my teeth.  I would hate to be asked not to return due to a lack of personal hygiene.  The instructor starts the class.  "Eh, this is easy enough," I think as we begin warming up at the barre.  5 minutes later and I'm lost.  "What the hell is a frappe?!  I mean, I know what it is at Starbucks."  "Sh*t.  Why is everyone facing me now?  Oh, hell.  I shoulda turned around back there."  Once our warm-up is complete we head to the middle of the floor.  Everyone else vies for a position in front of the mirror while I hide behind a column.  It gets a little blurry (literally) here because I forget the cardinal rule of pirouettes, which is spotting, and I fight back the nausea creeping up, putting my head between my legs.  At some point we gather in the corner to leap and twirl across the room in hopes of appearing light and airy.  At each landing I hit the floor with a thud, the mirrors shake and the ceiling above cracks and crumbles onto my head.  I swear I hear an elephant herd nearby but I realize I must be dreaming.  We're nowhere near the Serengeti, silly!  Finally, our instructor calls it quits, disheartened I'm sure by the repairs to the ceiling she will now have to make after tonight's lesson.  I make my way back to my bag and change into my street clothes feeling satisfied I had the guts to return to ballet.  As I wave goodbye to the instructor and head downstairs I swear I hear the trumpeting of elephants but quickly realize it is the instructor weeping.  I must have made that big of an impression on her.

Happy 1st Birthday!

Well, I can't believe it but today is Alexandra's first birthday.  It is amazing to me how quickly this past year went.  Between hardly getting any sleep and constant diaper changes it's amazing Marcus and I survived and feel like it all went by way too fast.  The changes we all have gone through in 12 months are amazing but none more so than Alexandra herself.  She went from a crying, barely cognizant, tiny person to a mobile, Buddha bellied, full of personality person.  To capture that here are a few of her stats:

Weight:
19 pounds 2 ounces

Height:
29.5"

Teeth:
Her two front, bottom teeth are just poking through

Hair:
Thicker and blonder but still barely there

Words:
"Mamma," "dadda," "keh" (kitty), and "ball."  We are currently working on "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious."

Favorite games:
Rolling the ball; stacking her colored rings; using her shape sorter; "chase" which equates to her crawling away very fast then slowing down to hear if you're coming, speeding it up when she hears you coming and laughing her head off; clapping her hands or anything that makes a pleasing (to her) sound; pushing her wagon back and forth a million times; hugging her stuffed animals; helping load and unload the dishwasher; reorganizing the Tupperware drawer; giving open mouth kisses which could explain why I'm home from work today; and putting her forehead on our forehead, eyes looking into ours, while flicking her tongue in and out like a lizard thus sending us over the edge with laughter.

Favorite songs:
"The Wheels on the Bus," "Itsy Bitsy Spider," "Over the Rainbow," "Hush, Little Baby," and  Bach's Concerto in D.

We are working on:
Waving bye-bye, being gentle with Lasagna (not to mention mamma and dadda), walking, multiplication, and listening better.

Milestones reached:
To be honest I have no idea if she's reached her milestones or not.  I know she does things some babies her age do and she doesn't do things some babies her age do.  I don't really care as long as she's happy which she is about 95% of the time.  The other 5% of the time tends to go downhill during nap time or bed time when she's not exactly thrilled to be left behind in her room.

Happy 1st Birthday!