A Toof?!?

Wednesday, 18 July 2007

Sprout has started to sprout a tooth. I guess I wasn't looking for it yet, but daycare saw the little white flash. The increase in drool should have been a sign. It may still not start to really break through for up to months, but since her dad and uncle Dude both got teeth between three and four months, it wouldn't be unheard of.
My first reaction? To grab my boobs. Maybe it will be a good thing that she hasn't given up the nipple shield yet.
She's also doing things just a little different, because its her top left. Rebelling already, I couldn't be more proud.

Well, that didn't take long.

Sunday, 15 July 2007

One week of daycare, a cold, and an ear infection.

Any one have any suggestions for getting a kid to take her antibiotics if she won't swallow excess liquid in her mouth, and the "suck on my finger while I sneak it in the side of your mouth" trick isn't working? A fever, an ear ache, and a clogged nose don't help matters and I can't seem to get her to take the stuff.

Three months + 1 day

Friday, 13 July 2007

Dear Sprout,

Today you're three months and one day old. I'm a day late because when I get home, I just want to snuggle you, and when not snuggling you, I'm getting ready for our next day of work and daycare.
This week you started daycare, and after that nasty scary woman last week, I was relieved. You are a social little one, so independant and lucky for me, so happy. You seem to enjoy all of the toys, and while your napping is hit and miss, I know it may just be because you're having too much fun.
You are eating well at daycare, something I worried about, but nursing more at home. I figure a little more comfort nursing is fine, because honestly, I need it too. You are still sleeping with us, something that I also feel good about, especially when you still have a little reflux gurgle. Your Nana and great-grandmother continue to question my parenting because you sleep with us. They can kiss my lily-white-cellulite ass. I would never do anything to risk your life. As-fucking-if. Sorry, little pissed off about that one.
Most importantly, I love you. I'm still amazed by you, and that I had anything to do with you. You're one cool little one, and I'm lucky to have you, your dad, and the Boof in my life. Yes, even the Boof, though I would like it if you tried a little harder to "accidentally" kick her more. It just makes me laugh.

Mom

Update

Thursday, 12 July 2007

Three days in, we are really liking daycare. She seems like she's having a good time, and her motor skills took a big jump in that short period of time. She's started to really figure out grabbing things. Its far less accidental. Their communication is wonderful. We get a nice sheet giving food, naps and activities for the day. She is coming home every day in what she left in, so we know they're on top of her diaper changes (otherwise exploding baby would have gotten them).
We're getting good feedback that she's really good for them, and enjoys the activities and toys. We're hoping this continues. Its nice to feel like she's not only getting care, but that they are helping her learn and grow.
She is also going off to daycare incredibly well dressed. Tie dye every other day so far. This morning, she looked terribly cute in a onesie by Pusher and the jeans that I believe that AKJ gave her, that I had to take some pictures. Ignore the milk drool.

Through the nose.

Tuesday, 3 July 2007

Daycare has been found. I interviewed the two OTHER centers by my house. I hate to say it, but the burbs one won out. The other one was just too... North Minneapolis. Too much just giving up and being half assed. Nothing like the suburban branches of the same chain. I hate how being in this neighborhood seems to mean that everyone does the minimum effort. You can't tell me that The Man is putting you down when you don't even try.

We start on Monday, after my mom does a couple of days for us. She was going to take the Sprout out of daycare to snuggle her anyways, so everone wins. Today the Sprout did her morning with dad, while I went in for a few hours. Love the little stinker, but it was nice to be at work.

I'm going to continue to look for a home daycare. Because as the title suggests, we're bleeding money for the center daycare. We can do it, but I'm going to be in the same boat as Syl. I'm basically paying for a second home for the Sprout during the day. We're paying them what I made as a live in nanny for two kids. Ugh.

Oh, one more thing. If my supply stays up with pumping, and she eats like she did for dad, I'm so golden. She at 2-2.5 ounces over two feedings, I pumped 7 in one pumping. Yay for the milk machine boobs.

*sigh*

Monday, 2 July 2007

This morning went pretty well, so I should have known something would go wrong. I just wish it hadn't been so big of a thing.

We got up around when the alarm went off, put the Sprout in her crib, made sure all stuff for shower was together, and got in the shower. All was going well. Got out of shower, got partially dressed, fed the Sprout, got fully dressed. Got help going out the car, and headed off to daycare.

Went up the stairs, saw the Sprout's name was not on checkin sheet. Hrm. Ok, no matter.

Went in, found one person there. Not the center director, or the person who I had been introduced to as the person caring for my child, no, someone else. Someone who was shocked to see me. I ask where are the other people. Oh, the infant teacher doesn't come in until 9:30. 9:30???? Its 6:50. 9:30 is a long way away. Oh, the other baby person (apparently there is another one who covers infants, I'd only met one), she comes in around 8. But she's on vacation this week. Ok, the center director gets in at 7:30. Ok, we can deal. Not what we expected, but she can take care of her for a bit. I tell her about the Sprout's explosive poops, she says she doesn't change diapers. I start getting worried. She's gonna poop any minute. The Sprout nursed around 6:15, that means that at the LATEST she should be eating again around 9:15. And there is no one for me to tell about how/what she will be eating. No one to tell me where to put her things. Just a woman who doesn't do diapers, and already gets a bouncer/rocker for the Sprout. Can't handle holding her for 10 minutes. Oh, did I mention she put said rocker on the table. A raised surface. (where of course I can read the warning lable on the back that says not to put it on raised surfaces, nice) I'm a little freaked, but so in shock, I don't know what to do. The more I talk to her, the more upset I am.
So, I leave to go catch the bus, and call ajd. It takes all of a minute for him to tell me to go back and get her. I decide to take her into work.

I go back in, take the Sprout, my milk, and my check.

We had a good morning at work, she was a dear, my coworkers were understanding, and I already met with another daycare this afternoon. One where they actually communicate. They even have little forms to help do it.

I even had a little bit of a bonus thing happen. Turns out that in the mother's room in my building, there is a company supplied, multi user, medical grade breast pump. Yeah haw! I don't have to bring in my own pump. I got the attachment parts for this style of pump with kit I got when I had to pump for Sprout in the hospital. Even better, the room has a window, a sink, and a fridge.

Some letters

Sunday, 1 July 2007

Dear Sprout,

Tomorrow you start daycare. I want you to know now, long before therapy, that we did everything we could to find you the best possible place. Somewhere where they will snuggle you and care for you nearly as good as we will. I've done what I can to make sure that you will eat while you're away, and I've had your bag packed for days. Please please be the good baby that you are for me, but save some of the good for me when I get home. Also, just know that when I'm tearing my hair out tomorrow morning running around trying to find my keys and underwear, that its all going to be ok. I'll be back to get you as soon as I can.


Dear daycare,

Please take good care of my Sprout. She means everything to me.


Dear blog readers,

Before I cry, I give you Kermit the Sprout.