Behold, my day as a series of vignettes:
It might be self-injurious, but it is age appropriate
I ended up flying solo at mass this morning -- Teddy's sleep schedule was thrown off (curse you, teething and developmental spurts) so he was OUT COLD during both our parish's masses. It happened to be a baptismal Sunday, though, so there were lots of visitors, including a families with small children.
One such child was sitting right across the aisle from me. She had horny-shaped pigtails on the top of her head and several teeth. During the apostles' creed, she tossed her bottle into the aisle and I picked it up; she spent the next 5 minutes grinning at me. I started watching her behaviour - she'd grasp a necklace with both hands and shove the pendant in her mouth, she'd flap her arms, slapping her torso while simultaneously bucking. She kept trying to pull herself up on the pew in front of her. She kept saying 'Sha-sha-sha' and 'ta-ta-ta'. So - pretty much the exact behaviour I was missing at home, sans pigtails. During the 'sign' of peace (we don't shake hands during flu season), I asked the parents her age' '10 months' was the reply. A-HA!
I had an inexplicable urge to pick her up and snuggle her. Man, I love kids!
The old adage is true. At list this is a laudable trait to emulate
Isha got 'milk fever' today. I remember how much it sucked and how much like mastitis it was. To help them out, Dave, Teddy and I went by t o make them dinner tonight. I had also made chilli and had extra food to freeze, so I brought that along with some b-milk, just in case.
The past two days, I have arrived at their house with boxes and bags of food and drinks and gifts and stuff like a breast pump and supplies. And treats. You know the two people in my life who do that, without fail. My Mom, and my Nonna. I have officially, simultaneously turned into my Mom and my Nonna. Eh, there are far worse things in the world!
Parenting like it's 1963
In our rush to get out of the house with dinner, we didn't bring any toys for Teddy. He is so easygoing, though, that we figured we could keep him busy with simple things. Like the box we brought dinner supplies in. Yes, we sat our child in a bankers' box in the kitchen while we made dinner. And Uncle Joe gave him a wooden spoon and a pot lid. How quaint!
I once again felt like I was channelling my Nonna. When my Aunt Pat was a baby, my Nonna had two older, very active children (plus my teenaged Mom). Aunt Pat was easygoing, too, and was born well before the advent of playpens and bouncy chairs. So my Nonna got a cardboard box and secured it with a very heavy meat tenderizer (so my Aunt couldn't tip backward). She'd sit my Aunt Pat in it and would let her play. The best part? When she was hungry, my Aunt would be given a hotdog and a banana, which she'd grasp in each hand and of which she'd alternate bites. BLEARGH!
My Mom and my Nonna are together in Kingston tonight; they roared when they heard these stories. I don't blame them. :)