Sunday Miscellanea
Tonight, in the course of searching for the TV adaptor for my Powerbook, I unearthed my backpack from where it had been stashed when we got home from the hospital. (The birthing suites had VCRs, but not DVD players, so we just hooked my laptop up and watched DVDs on it during the boring Cervidil part of my induction.)
I didn't find the adaptor, which is (no doubt) Somewhere Safe, but I did find the City of Lost Makeup.
I'd just been wondering where that Tony & Tina eyeshadow set had wandered off to, and I think I'd completely forgotten I even owned that MAC lip palette. And that limited edition Lip Glass. And that tube of MAC Paint in Artjam. And probably some other things that didn't register.
Times like this, I feel like I'm being rewarded for being exceedingly lazy and failing to unpack my bags. All the fun of shopping, none of the cost.
Other things found in the bag include several books, a bag of Kotex pads, a notebook, all my decent pens, and my birth plan.
Said plan was pretty slight. I mean, they give you this three page checklist/form thing, and all I'd filled out were the sections on pain management (position changes, breathing, and non-epidural painkillers--well, it worked until 7cm) and feeding preference (breast--that one, thankfully, worked just fine). And, just in case every single ultrasound from 20 weeks on had been wrong about the gender and the baby was just a really unfortunate boy, the circumcision preferences section.
I really only wrote it up because my OB thought I might as well. Having been considered high risk since week 15 and facing a scheduled medically indicated induction for PIH, I didn't really have a plan beyond rolling with whatever additional punches might happen. Sure, I researched all the options and talked strategy with a doula friend, but I checked my expectations at the door to L&D.
I'm fairly convinced that my educated and informed complete lack of a plan is the reason why I had a good birth experience. I knew what I could do to improve my chances of a minimally-medicated vaginal birth, but I wasn't wedded to anything beyond both of us getting through it safely.
If I could just apply that mindset to the rest of my life, I'd be set.
Of course, I'd have to apply my reproductive fatalism to the rest of it for that to work, but still.
More thoughts on diapers. Exciting, I know.
I've decided I don't like pocket diapers for overnight. They just don't have the oomph of a hemp fitted with a fleece-topped doubler and a wool wrap.
Good thing I've got lots of all of the above.
While I'm still trying very hard to be budget-minded, I am taking advantage of my income to upgrade the diaper stash. I even bought (gasp) some brand-new diapers. Swaddlebees reviews will be forthcoming, as
Heiny King had the buy-two-get-one-free deal going on last week. I also got two new Happy Heiny's and a bunch of wipes, because I wanted to push myself over that free shipping edge. (Besides, I needed wipes. Mine were rags cut with pinking shears, and most of them have worn down to the size of a postage stamp.) An unrelated purchase got me some WAHM-made diapers.
I get so used to the look and feel of secondhand everything that new baby stuff seems weird to me.
While I'm not keen on pockets for overnight, daytime's another story. Pockets have me back in the mindset of cloth-while-out, as they lack bulk, keep her fairly comfortable, and fit in the Skip-Hop with just a slight unsightly bulge. The Skip-Hop's a great bag, but not exactly designed with crunchy, cloth-diapering mothers in mind. (I did find a diaper bag designed for cloth diapering, but it was a limited edition unbleached organic cotton high price tag kind of a bag. I'll stick with the unsightly bulge, thanks.)
Given a clean stash, I find that I'll reach for a Happy Heiny's (the spelling just looks wrong to me, but that is what the tag says, and I suppose they mean that the diaper belongs to a cheerful rear or something) before I reach for a Fuzzi Bunz. This is partly because they seem to fit the girl better, and partly because she's taken to flipping out when we change her, and aplix is faster than snaps when you've got a midget Linda Blair on your hands.
ACK! MOBILITY!
The ability to self-propel is, to put it mildly, scary.
This late crawling thing lulled us into a false sense of security.
I mean, we knew the living room wasn't exactly childproof. Hell, it's not exactly adultproof. But when the girl wasn't mobile, the whole childproofing thing didn't seem like a high priority item.
Right.
Well.
That's just jumped a few notches in the queue.
To the newly-mobile baby, toys are not interesting. The phone, the remote control, the cat's ass? THOSE are the interesting things. Oh, and paperwork. Man, paperwork's a laugh riot. And tasty. Mmm. Paperwork. The more important, the better. I'm just glad she hasn't spotted the tax documents yet.
If a step happens in daycare, is it really a milestone?
Today, it would appear that the girl has learned to crawl.
Well, kind of. Sort of. She flails forward on all fours. As she's my daughter, I don't expect a huge amount of physical grace*. I, after all, have been known to walk into lamp posts and probably couldn't pass a sobriety test if I crammed for it, as travelling in a straight line is beyond my limited agility abilities. (So far as I can tell, there's no physical reason for this. I have good vision, no inner ear problems, and all my limbs work as expected, just not in an especially coordinated fashion.) Anyhow, in my book, it's crawling.
Intellectually, I'm aware that she probably figured this out at daycare and did not wait on using that knowledge just so we could see her first real movement milestone in the comfort of our living room. Heck, for all I know, this no-crawl thing is a front she uses to get me to carry her whenever we're together, and during her away-time, she glides swiftly and smoothly across the Kindercare floors, making merry with the toys and leaving other, less talented babies in her wake. (Though I seriously doubt it.)
Emotionally? I'm totally marking this day down as a milestone. Learned to crawl: 9 3/4 months, flailing towards cat on living room floor on 7 Feb 2006! I'm taking my cue from every European explorer ever. It is, after all, the first time I've seen it, therefore, the discovery is mine, mine I say!
*Cunning is a whole 'nother thing. Thus far, she's displayed plotting skills that would put Machiavelli and Sun Tzu to shame. I'm so proud.
