So I made the leap and signed up for web hosting so I could redesign and upgrade my blog. The new address is http://www.bebehblog.com or just http://bebehblog.com. No more WordPress extension! Please update your bookmarks and blogrolls accordingly. I won’t be posting anything new here on this page (I won’t be posting anything new until Monday on the other site either) so if you forget and come here you’ll be looking at this message forever. Maybe someday I’ll figure out how to redirect automatically. Don’t hold your breath.

Considering I know ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about websites I expect there will be a lot of issues, broken links, missing pictures and more issues. If you happen to see any problems, please email me bebehblog at gmail dot com so I can try to work them out. And by work them out I mean swear at my computer for three hours before calling tech support.

To hold you over until I get things worked out, please visit my Flikr page for new pictures of the baby. Thanks for your patience!

Contamination contained. We set up a perimeter. No babies will be escaping from this facility. Now our evil plans can begin mwahahahahahahahaaaaaaaa!

IMG_3708Since rolling has quickly turned into scooting in circles and the occasional attempt to push up on his knees we decided it was time to get started on the baby-proofing. Of course, just like EVERYTHING ELSE about parenthood, you can only be prepared for half of it. The things you thought you absolutely had to have (ahem BUMBO SEAT) were totally unnecessary and you end up running through the street at 11:00 pm throwing money at anyone who promises to get you the stuff you neeeeeeeed.

The real victims of the baby proofing are our pets. The stupid evil cat can’t figure out how to get through the gate (hint: YOU JUST WALK THROUGH IT YOU’RE A CAT). The dog can no longer run to the front door and greet every single visitor we have OMG TRAGIC. And the stupid nice cat has already decided she’d prefer if I opened it FOR her so she sits and meows. Odds are we’re going to have at least one poop on the floor incident before we reach acceptance. Although since the gate is between the couch and the bathroom, I wouldn’t rule E out of that race. Kidding honey!

No, not Baby Evan’s anxiety. Mine. I almost lost my marbles the other day at the thought of leaving Evan in someone else’s care for twenty minutes. How could a stranger possibly nurture my precious snowflake in my absence? I mean, he could get hungry and start crying and his mommy won’t be there to hold him! I bet that’s the first thing everyone says in therapy: “My mother wasn’t there that one time I cried.” Besides, I don’t know these people. Maybe they secretly hate babies and would pinch him as soon as my back was turned. Are they qualified? What if they’re drug dealers? Or child molesters? I mean, that’s not usually who works in a church nursery but YOU NEVER KNOW.

I wasn’t expecting this to be a problem. I know in theory that the focus of attachment parenting is making you feel, well, attached to your child. One of the articles I read described it as feeling like part of you was missing when you weren’t with the baby. But c’mon, it’s not like I’m a super over protective mom type. I’m the opposite of overprotective and cautious. I’m the kind of person who says stuff like “God made dirt and dirt don’t hurt” without a hint of irony. So what’s my problem with letting someone else watch the baby shove inappropriate things in his mouth?

My problem is no one else HAS ever watched him. We don’t have any family nearby to “practice” babysitting to see how Baby Evan handles being in the care of someone other than his parents. When I was about 16, I babysat for the neighbor’s infant. Who cried. THE. WHOLE. TIME. I told them never to call me again and swore I’d never have children (yeah, I said a lot of things when I was 16). I don’t want to traumatize someone that way. But is it just going to get worse if I don’t? My fear is I’m going to be the mom at the first day of kindergarten who can’t walk out the door without prying her kid off her leg with a crowbar. Maybe I’ll just practice on my parents when they come to visit. They have to love me and Baby Evan anyway.

One of my easiest decisions as a parent so far was the choice to vaccinate my baby. I feel 100 percent confident that protecting him from potentially deadly diseases is my responsibility as a mother and vaccines are a safe, effective way to do that. I’ve done my research (although the internet is a hard hard place to do vaccine research, especially if you’re actually in favor of vaccinating) and I’ve talked to my doctor and I choose my choice. It’s chosen. My blogger friend Brigid posted a video from the CDC a while back addressing some of the concerns and facts about vaccinations in a non-terrifying way. My feelings can basically be boiled down to even though I doubt my baby will ever be exposed to measles or rubella or hepatitis, it’s the herd immunity that prevents epidemics and I’m doing my part. And for the record, I don’t really want to hear about your cousin’s sister-in-law’s best friend’s baby who totally got autism right after his shots. For every anecdote you’ve heard there’s a child who never had a single shot and was still diagnosed with an autism spectrum disorder. So, like I said, I am on the vaccination train.

Until this H1N1 thing came along. Suddenly I’m not so confident. I don’t know if I want to add another shot to my baby’s 6 month appointment. For myself, no problem. I will probably get both a regular seasonal flu shot and the H1N1 shot. E’s going to get both flu shots as well (the Navy actually requires him to get them). I haven’t had the flu since I was a kid (I get strep every year instead, so if they start vaccinating against THAT sign me up!) and I don’t spend a lot of time in crowded disease-filled places like malls or day care centers, but again, herd immunity! As parents, we’re doing our part.   But my baby doesn’t hang out in those places either. And the info out there on the Swine Flu vaccine is too scary to just dismiss. Younger children need to get two shots instead of one, and Baby Evan is just barely old enough to fall in the 6 months – 24 year suggested age group. Some states are lifting the restrictions on how much mercury can be in the vaccines (I can’t find info for my state but I know California and Washington have). The last time a Swine Flu vaccine was distributed in the 70’s the side effects were terrible and much more widespread than I am comfortable with. I just don’t know what the right choice is this time.

I’m not the only mom who feels this way. One of the mommy bloggers I follow, All & Sundry, just posted something about choosing to get the vaccine (or not). She got almost two hundred comments and every single one made me think “Oh good point!” on both sides. I hope I don’t have to make a decision right away since the vaccine may not be available in time for our 6 month appointment and I’ll get a couple more weeks to think about it. Are you – and/or your children – getting the H1N1 vaccine?

What do you mean pill bottles don’t make excellent rattles? And also chew toys?

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While I was looking for Father’s Day gifts back in June I came across a lot of fancy handprint kits.* I really liked them but couldn’t justify spending $40+ on what’s basically a picture frame. So I made one myself.

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The frame was $12.99 at Target (I just looked for one with a large white mat – there were several choices). The paint is Crayola non-toxic craft paint, also from Target and about $6 total. And I printed the picture out using our home printer (I’m going to replace it with a nicer one IF I CAN EVER GET E TO DRESS UP AND POSE FOR ONE FRICKIN MINUTE).

If you notice, my hand is yellow and E’s is blue. And yellow and blue make green, so the baby’s print is green. Aw how disgustingly cute. Also, I suspect they use midgets and not babies for the product pictures of baby handprints, since the somewhat smudgy one we got was after three practice tries. Babies are more interested in rubbing the paint on their face than making beautiful treasured keepsakes. Selfish babies. Can’t they see the big picture? Anyways, if you’re somehow related to me expect your own version of this at Christmas. Try to act surprised.

*Actual Father’s Day gift: Tool belt and tool caddy I picked out in Home Depot while E was buying lumber and presented to him at the checkout so he could pay for it.

What the hell is wrong with the people who make baby clothes? Have they never seen an actual baby? You thought women’s clothing was bad, what with vanity sizing and no two brands having the same inseams and the total lack of pockets and “mediums” that really mean “nothing bigger than a B cup you fat fatty!” That’s nothing compared with trying to buy infant clothing.

The worst offender is Gerber. At my baby shower my BFF Erin had everyone decorate these adorable plain white onesies. Some of them were super duper cute. My mom’s had as arrow pointing at the neck that said “This End Up”. One of Evan’s cousins wrote “You think I’m cute, your right!” and my copy editor friend Sara had an aneurysm. My sister did every animal in Noah’s Ark PLUS an amazing black and white drawing of Moishe, the Wild Thing with horns. Baby Evan fit in those 0-3 month onesies for exactly 2 months. So my sister bought some 3-6 month Gerber onesies and decorated some more. Which Baby Evan outgrew in five minutes. What the hell Gerber? Are you trying to give the baby on your food jars an eating disorder?

Target’s selection for 6-12 months is abysmal – unless your baby is a girl. Gymboree lumps 6-12 months into ONE SIZE so my giant baby has been wearing most of it for a month already and is going to need a larger size before the winter is over. Carter’s does single month sizing, so Baby Evan has been in “6 months”  stuff for two months and is now in the “9 month” stuff. Even the fancy-pants high end baby stuff has lousy sizing – the 12 month sweater my aunt sent that cost at least $35 fits now. This totally random sizing makes buying baby clothes second hand or on Craigslist almost impossible. If someone’s selling a lot of “12 month” clothing about half of it is suitable for my almost 6 month old and half of it would fit a two year old.

I know babies vary in size (there’s a mom at my mom’s group whose 3 month old is 8 lbs – and then that woman in Indonesia gave birth to a 19 lb baby) so sizing clothing for them can be hard. But here’s an idea: label them with WEIGHTS, like diapers. TA-DA. I AM A GENIUS. Actually, some of the old Carter’s stuff my mom gave me from 20 years ago does have weights so I wasn’t the first person to think of this. I just don’t know why they stopped.

Presented without comment, the pictures we took at the Farmer’s Market on Friday night.

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Your witty caption here.

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This caption should be funnier

The good parts.

Hobo baby lost a sock

Hobo baby lost a sock

Floor time is much more fun on the new rug

Floor time is much more fun on the new rug

Whatevs, you couldn't afford anything in this Pottery Barn catalog anyways.

Whatevs, you couldn't afford anything in this Pottery Barn catalog anyways.

The ratio of toys to baby is about 100 to 1.

The ratio of toys to baby is about 100 to 1.

The dance we were doing to make him laugh totally deserved that smile.

The dance we were doing to make him laugh totally deserved that smile.

Bro, check out my shoulder surfing skills and my bitchin necklace.

Bro, check out my shoulder surfing skills and my bitchin necklace.

How in the world has the human race survived this long? I mean, you barely recover from giving birth soon enough to deal with sleep deprivation and sore nipples and just when the baby starts getting all cute and mobile and human-like, TEETHING STARTS. You want to prevent teen pregnancy? SEND ‘EM THIS WAY. I guarantee an hour with my baby and any teen’s knees with slam together so hard they’ll be limping for a month. I have no job, no pressing responsibilities (beyond keeping my child alive), no other kids to care for, no neighbors close enough to disturb if the baby screams and I am almost at the end of my rope. I cannot imagine what dealing with a teething baby would be like in a mud hut or a covered wagon or an 800 square foot apartment. If you have teeth, go kiss your mama right now.

By the time E got home from work yesterday I was lying on the floor of the nursery begging the baby to take a nap. I know E was secretly thinking “Geez woman pull yourself together, he’s not that bad” – until Baby started screaming his head off because someone smiled at him the wrong way or said his mama was funny looking. I wouldn’t blame E if he suddenly had to start “working late” so he would miss the afternoon meltdown. I would totally kill him, but I wouldn’t BLAME him.

The real problem is the child cannot make up his mind. Cutting just one tiny tooth has thrown any semblance of a schedule out the window. Two nights ago I was totally ready to throw in the co-sleeping towel because Baby Evan thrashed and tossed and nursed ALL NIGHT and I can’t deal with a cranky baby during the day without at least five hours of sleep. But then last night he slept from 9pm – 2am, nursed, and then went back to sleep until 5:30 am, still and quiet as a mouse. Unfortunately, GETTING him to sleep was a nightmare. I don’t think it counts as cry-it-out if E is holding him and rocking him and shushing him in the nursery…but the baby cried himself to sleep anyway. During the day he’s just as unpredictable. One minute Baby Evan wants to nurse non-stop and the next he thrashed and screams if I put him anywhere near a boob. I was not expecting engorgement to be a problem anymore but yeah, it is, AGAIN. One second he’s playing in his exersaucer happily and the next he’s screaming bloody murder. One minute the teether toy is his favorite thing ever until he sees me holding the remote and then he wants THAT RIGHT NOW INHISMOUTH GUMGUMGUMDROOOOOOOOL.

I wish there was a definitive answer as to how long teething lasts. It would really help me deal with this if I knew “OK, he’s horrible now but I only have two more weeks (or months) to go”. But the internet has very little to say on the subject, except that he has 20 teeth to get through and that the molars can be worse. WORSE. My heart actually stopped beating for a second.

I love email! It's like talking to other grown ups without having to worry if the baby is screaming! Contact me: bebehblog@gmail.com
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