the marvelous adventures of jules & john

If I’ve seemed a little quiet lately, it’s because there’s been a child attached to my legs. No matter where I am in the house, it’s only a matter of minutes before my little chick will seek me out and pull herself up on me. 

I don’t like to wish her older, but it will be pretty nice when she can stand on her own. This whole having to shuffle around the kitchen at a super slow pace while making dinner thing is getting old. 

The one of Angie and Brad and their kiddos? I didn’t put it there… or maybe I did on accident… or maybe when Bebe was banging around on my computer she did it. 

But I left it because it’s way cute.

Before Bebe was born I had big dreams of adopting all of my kids and having a multi-cultural family. I didn’t feel a strong need to actually birth a child of my own and thought more about adoption than getting pregnant. I’m glad I got pregnant with Beatrice and I plan on conceiving more kiddos, but eventually I’d still like to adopt. We can’t do it right now because you need to be married for 5 years and, you know, live in a house that is an appropriate size for a family of 4 (aka not ours). But someday…

I remember one time as a little girl I walked in on my dad cleaning a Care Bear bike in the bathtub. I was shocked – it was my birthday and I certainly wasn’t expecting my very first two-wheel bicycle.  It was blue with a basket and colored beads on the spokes that would slide around as you rode.

Looking back at that moment I realize that the bike was probably in pretty terrible shape if he was cleaning it in the bathtub before giving it to me. Who knows where he got it – we were poor with a capital P, but I didn’t know that at the time. When I think back to that moment, the bike in my mind is the most beautiful bike you’ve ever seen.

I love my dad for moments like that. I love it that he found a bike and cleaned it for me. I love it that he would randomly stick us in the yard with a bucket of white paint and a bench or the doghouse and tell us to get to work. I love it that when I got older and became a spiteful teenager, I could ask him questions about religion and politics, and he would give me answers that will stick with me for all time.

I love it that we were poor and I didn’t know.  I love it that he could have 30 billion dollars in his bank account right now and I’d have no idea.

He’s the best.

I imagine that Beatrice will think back to memories of her father in the same charming way that I do. She adores him, and he feels the same way about her. I feel like as she grows their bond is only going to get stronger. He will teach her how to ride a bike, kick a soccer ball, and her abc’s. He’ll ask her grown-up questions and make her think in ways that are beyond her years. He’ll teach her French phrases and they’ll laugh together when I don’t know what they’re talking about. She is lucky to have such a strong, steadfast, loving father in her life, and I am lucky to have him as a partner. We are his #1 priority – now and forever, as it should be.

For Father’s Day, Beatrice wrote a little story about her dad. You can find it at Shutterfly.com here or on the blog here.

My little chick and I at today’s Relay for Life.

Last year I was hugely pregnant at this event, but still walked my shift. This time, the stares and comments I received were focused on my beautiful child and not the enormous belly I was carting around. Much preferred.

We walk to remember my grandpa who lost his battle with cancer in 2010, just a few weeks after I found out that I was pregnant with Beatrice. I miss you! 

A little late but here ya go…

Height/Weight: I have no idea. She seems to be getting smaller?? Maybe that’s because everyone around her is growing at a rapid pace. Seriously though, could she be getting skinnier because of all of her wild ways? 

Teeth: She just got her top two front teeth. Beatrice already had two bottom teeth and a top side snaggle tooth. FIVE TEETH. Now she bites and it hurts. 

New Things: up down up down up down…. she is exhausting. She used to pull herself up on things and then not know how to get herself back down to the floor. After a nice war over the remote control with her grandma though, she has the ups and the downs figured out. She pushed a small chair over to the ottoman and tried to use this combination to get the remote that was on top of a table. She used the open dishwasher to stand up and then shimmied herself along the wall to the uncovered outlet. She’s all over the place. She’s also chattering up a storm. She loves lids and containers and will seek out the container that goes with the lid she’s holding. This can keep her entertained for…. oh, 5 minutes, which is the equivalent to an eternity in this house. If you’re wearing glasses she’ll take them off and put them back on you over and over again. Her pointing has become more direct and can tell you what she wants.

Danger! Danger!: Beatrice is not afraid of anything. Fly headfirst off the couch? Yes. Chew through phone chargers? Definitely. Play in the toilet? Why not? I used to scoff at the idea of baby proofing because she’d just get into outlets and what not at other people’s houses. That was before I learned that I have the wildest child ever born. If all of my children are as crazy as Beatrice, I’m going to build a padded house filled with inflatable furniture. Surely this will be cheaper than the ER costs they would incur otherwise. 

Food: this kid is finicky. One day blueberries are her best friend, the next day they are flung from her tray as soon as I place them in front of her. She loves cheese, black beans, and GoGo SqueeZ applesauce packets always and forever though. Anything else, you never know. Today I tried to feed her cereal, some sort of fruity baby food, toast, chicken, breastmilk, formula, and puffs, before I finally figured out that it was strawberries that she wanted. 

Drink: She doesn’t want anything in a bottle. She doesn’t drink out of a cup unless I hold it, and even then she only wants water and only a little bit of water at that. I’m not really sure what to do about this. 

Sleep: FINALLY she’s sleeping through the night again. Now I’m trying to get her to nap in her crib, but John has to get on that bandwagon since he’s her daytime caregiver, and I’m not sure that that is going to happen. Whatever. As long as I’m not the one holding her at naptime when she’s four…

Play: Beatrice loves being outside. She loves showing us what she is playing with. She likes to crawl away from us and then look back with an ornery little look on her face, and then laugh and take off crawling again while we chase her. She likes things with wheels and stacking her MegaBlocks. She also loves pushing buttons and seeing or hearing something happen. Beatrice is really good at taking a toy and figuring out all of it’s assets right away. I think she has really great fine motor skills for her age. It looks very natural when she’s holding things or feeding herself - like she’s much older than she really is. 

Personality: I love Beatrice’s personality - she is vivacious, emotional, and energetic - nothing like the quiet, shy girl that I was. I refer to her as ‘spirited’, and often my friends say that they too have a spirited child. They don’t. No one has a child like mine. She will do GREAT THINGS in life, I am sure, but in the meantime she’s hard to handle, fussy, and extremely high-maintenance. When we are in a situation where we’re around a lot of other kids I often second-guess my parenting skills (usually because people comment on how I just “let her do anything”). I don’t let her do everything, I have just learned that I need to let the little things go, otherwise I’d be saying “no” constantly. Other kids are calm and quiet. They might have little meltdowns, but nothing that a nap or a bottle can’t calm. Their parents didn’t make them that way, just like I didn’t make Beatrice rowdy. These kids are born with their personalities. 

I know I am going to need to put a lot of energy and time into raising Beatrice so that she doesn’t end up cracked out on ADHD meds in elementary school. If we make it through her school years alive, she’ll probably become the president of the USA. Get it girl. 

Has anyone read the book “Raising your Spirited Child” by Mary Sheedy Kurcinka? The spirited children that she refers to are more sensitive, perceptive, persistent, energetic, and intense than most. Those words describe Beatrice completely. I need to get myself a copy and tackle it with a highlighter in hand. 

Beez is…

Reading: The Very Busy Spider by Eric Carle

Loving: the great outdoors. 

Eating: strawberries and cheese and that’s about it. Everything else is forcefully tossed across the room.

Drinking: NOTHING. My flu screwed up my milk and now Bebe won’t drink ANYTHING. No formula, no breastmilk from a bottle, nothin. We can get a few ounces of water in her in a day but that’s IT. I should probably ask the doc about this right?

Looking Forward to: getting out of her crib. Since I’m home this week, I’m trying to take control of her nap situation. She is not impressed with crib naps. Not one bit. At this moment she’s screaming her little head off. I’m the boss. I’m the boss.

I am… 

Reading: A Clash of Kings (book 2 in the Game of Thrones series) by George R.R. Martin. I like it but I’m so tired that I fall asleep every few pages. This isn’t a series that I would normally gravitate to but the tv show is amazing, so there you go. 

Errr…. suddenly it sounds like Beatrice is out of breath in there. Better go make sure that she hasn’t tried to hang herself with her blanket…

…she’s fine… I was spotted…. tack another 30 minutes onto this process.

Loving: SUMMER! Remind me again why I’m not a teacher? I could be free for three glorious months! Stupid mistakes… 

Eating: nothing. Still feeling a bit off.

Drinking: homemade ice tea from the mint in my garden. The most delightful thing ever. 

John just tried to give screaming Bebe a bottle. She got excited to see him and then really pissed when she discovered what he was up to. Fast forward 10 seconds and now they’re playing together. Crib Nap = FAIL.

Looking Forward To: GIRLS WEEK 2012. The countdown is on - five weeks left until I am with my friends in a house on Lake Michigan - no babies, no husbands, no responsibilities… I can’t wait.

Did I mention no babies? 

This weekend my family was hit hard by the flu. John was all alone in Indianapolis while I was at my parents house with Beatrice, which was a lucky deal considering I could hardly lift my head to care for my little girl. 

I feel like I had a lot to say about this experience but now that I sit here it all seems kind of stupid and dramatic. It’s hard being a parent, really hard. You don’t get time-outs to throw up unless your lucky stars happen to put you in the right place at the right time (or wrong time/wrong place if you are my now sick parents and siblings… sorry guys…). Had John and I been sick at the same time in Indy, our poor child would have felt pretty neglected while her parents tried not to die.

Now I feel our nursing days may be over since my body was so wrecked by the last three days. I feel tired and clammy but I need to make sure that Beatrice is eating and happy and not chewing through cords.

Because she did that this morning.

For goodness sake. 

Normally I let Beatrice learn things on her own time. I haven’t tried to teach her to crawl or walk or whatever, but now that she’s climbing up on things I decided to give her a little lesson on how to get OFF of them - feet first. 

Because, you know, catching a baby mid-air while she tries to dive off of a couch, bed, etc, is only going to be successful so many times. 

I took the cushions off of half of the couch and put them on the floor creating a super swell, multi-level, playground for her. She did some nose dives. She liked it. She liked it so much that she might have started doing it on purpose.

Feet First Training = FAIL

At some point she found a pack of crackers and held them in her mouth while she continued crawling wildly over the cushions. Later that night she held her rubber duck in her mouth during most of her bath. No hands, no biggie. She kills me.

This weekend is the Woodruff Place flea market aka best garage sales EVER. If you live in the Indianapolis area you must check it out. Woodruff Place is this gem of a neighborhood with fountains in the middle of the streets and big old Victorian homes with carriage houses lining the alleys. Last year I scored some amazing vintage frocks for my then bun in the oven and I can’t wait to see what wonders I find this time!

All week I’ve been trying to figure out how to transport Bebe to this event. I could ride my bike… but then would have to carry B around once we got there and she’d certainly fall asleep on the trip home. Since she’s so small, her head doesn’t reach the headrest on the WeeRide, which means she falls asleep with her chin falling forward on her chest and wakes up periodically to scream. Not good.

I take the wagon so she and Wes could hang out together in it… but Bebe would try to stand up the entire time and all of the contents inside of the wagon would end up in a trail behind us on the sidewalk. If Wes was a little smaller, he’d probably be thrown overboard too.

I could use the stroller but drama baby has an all-out meltdown when I strap her in, and then periodically lets out a fit of rage to remind me that she’s pretty mad about her situation.

I could wear her, but depending on the heat we could be two very sweaty girls.

Why is this so complicated?

Why am I so neurotic?

I need a van so that I can take every single mode of baby-transportation with me. Like a full-size conversion van. With a bunk in the back for a quick nap…  

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