Merry Christmas?

Our Christmas miracle: we all made it
to a photo! Even Lamby and Lamby's
toy bath duck.

"We're doing what?!? When?!?" Mary gasped when Joseph mentioned Caesar's census.

Sometimes, Christmas is wondrous. Other times, you give birth in a barn. This year, our Christmas fit somewhere in between these two extremes.

'Twas the weekend before Christmas when the Stomach Virus first made its way into our home. It's unclear whether Elise or I contracted it first (perhaps she simply gorged on a bit too much overripe pear?), but the effects were intense and long-lasting. Matt and I agreed it was the sickest we've been since childhood, or possibly ever. In fact, I was about to enlist a Christmas Emergency plan when Kalina finally woke up happy and energetic from a long nap, and didn't throw up. Whew! Glad that's over!

Working on Christmas dinner?

We set about making final preparations for Grandma, Grandpa Les, Uncle Brian, Uncle Chris and Aunt Laura to arrive. Kalina cleaned her room, and then redecorated it with some spectacular toy formations. Elise helped me vacuum and stacked candles.

And they arrived! Yay! Aunt Laura and Uncle Chris came first, and the girls were overjoyed to have two new  playmates. Stranger-anxious Elise managed a sweet little hug for both of them, even chasing Aunt Laura down at one point to administer the little squeeze. Kalina proudly showed off her basement, and Mommy sneakily cleaned up the "accident" that had happened only moments before our guests' arrival. Kalina hoped they would never leave.

It wouldn't be a Grandma visit
without oodles of storytime!

The next evening brought Grandpa Les, Grandma and Uncle Brian. Joy ensued. In the day that followed, we took a trip to a local nature center, the girls played, people chatted, delicious food was made and eaten, amazing boy and girl bonding outings were enjoyed--it was really starting to feel like Christmas!

Watching the turtles get fed
at the nature center.

But unbeknownst to us, we were harboring a sixth guest this whole time: Stomach Virus had stuck around! Aunt Laura was the first to be stricken, followed a few hours later by Uncle Brian. And the next day was Christmas Eve.

Jolly and somber shared quarters as everyone either suffered or soothed, while also beginning preparations on a Christmas feast. After all, Christmas is really about hope, right? We'd noticed the virus seems to strike at night, and we counted down the hours until the remaining three might succumb. "You probably have at least four hours left, Grandma, what would you like to do with the girls?"

Christmas cookies!

We exchanged some gifts early, in the event that Grandma, Grandpa Les and Uncle Chris might not be with us in the morning, and we skipped church, not wanting to ruin anyone else's Christmas by sharing close quarters. We also made Christmas cookies, artistically decorating each one even though no one had much of an appetite (except, potentially, Santa). We played "musical rooms" for the night so that the sickest people would have easy access to amenities. Kalina gave Lamby a bucket, and put Pink Bear on the pretend doll/animal potty she'd unwrapped. Almost as an afterthought, we did our best to get the girls excited for Christmas Day.

The next morning, Elise bounded out of bed at 6:30 (well, as much as a toddler can bound out of a crib, which is not at all without help, thank goodness). Kalina, who had spent the night in Elise's room and had woken up when Elise did, refused to follow until her clock turned green 15 minutes later (it turns green when she's allowed to get up). And then we all hung out on the hide-a-bed for a while, where Mommy and Daddy had spent the night, being the healthiest of all our guests.

Elise played for a good 10 minutes with
Grandpa and the animals.

Soon, conversation shifted to reindeer. Had they been on our rooftop last night? Neither Daddy nor Mommy could be sure if we'd heard them. Had Kalina? How would we know if Santa had been here? We would've had reindeer on our roof, Kalina pointed out. True. And also, the cookie we left would've been eaten. Had it been? It had! And what else would've happened? Kalina's eyes turned toward the stockings (with a little nudging from me), and in the half-light, we all gazed at the festive reindeer peeking out of the Kalina's, and the soft puppy peeking out of Elise's. How magical!

For a split second, anyway. It's hard to tell which girl dove for hers first--but what amazed me the most was that even without Aunt Nancy's adorable cross-stitched designs, they knew immediately which stocking belonged to each. I'd worried that one animal or the other would be the favorite favorite of both, but that was not the case--Elise only had eyes for the dog, and probably would've scaled the fireplace to claim it had I not whisked it down to her. And Kalina was beyond delighted with her new friend, Rudolph.

A new bathroom set for Lamby!

The littler girl could barely be bothered to show interest in the rest of her stocking presents--she'd received what she wanted most, and Puppy now shares the spot in Elise's heart previously held only by Pink Bear. And, admittedly, the bath toys and plastic bowls could hardly be considered competition. Once we got to the collection of wind-up toys at the bottom, however, we were all enchanted. The caterpillar really inched, after all, and the mouse hopped, the chick scurried and the butterfly flapped.

The 3 1/2-year-old was on her fourth Christmas, and eagerly destroyed her stocking. No paper was left unwrapped as she deftly uncovered her own set of bath toys, and a bath brush for Lamby as well as a headband. She knew the routine.

Notice Santa's empty cookie plate!

We then merrily counted family members as they arrived downstairs: Grandma made it through the night still standing! And here's Aunt Laura, back on her feet! And then Uncle Chris, and even Uncle Brian! But alas, it was not all good news: Stomach Virus had claimed Grandpa Les, albeit in a somewhat gentler form that mostly left him extremely drowsy and in need of a very long winter's nap.

But hope endured, and after a breakfast of hot cocoa and bacon (among other things), we managed to scrounge together for not only a family picture, but also presents under the tree. Even Grandpa Les made it! We may have hurried a bit through our unwrapping to make sure no one dropped off before we were done, and, in fact, Elise and Matt still have a couple waiting for them.

For some reason Elise wasn't
too happy about this picture.

The tree held lots of treasures for Kalina and Elise (and the rest of us!), and all were a big hit, with the possible exception of the toy I'd sewn for Kalina (which I'm sure will grow on her!). Elise was enthralled by a ball track toy, while Kalina gave Lamby multiple baths in her new bathroom set (maybe now Lamby will smell a bit better?). Kalina also learned to play Jingle Bells on a toy piano/songbook from her musician aunt and uncle (who better to teach her?), and both girls zoomed back and forth through a new tunnel. Of course, Elise tried to get at Kalina's new toys whenever she could, and Kalina returned the favor. Unfortunately, in these instances the mood swayed a bit from the otherwise prevalent Christmas goodwill. Kalina had also made gifts for everyone, and the pride in her eyes as they were unwrapped was worth every bit of the, "Oops, let's not paint that!" involved in creating them. There were also a few presents for Lamby that consisted purely of scraps and trash with a bow and a label on them (how sweet!!).

Unwrap, play, unwrap, play,
repeat!

A light lunch led to a light naptime, which led to a lot of video game bonding among the guys, which was followed by our Christmas meal. Nine places were set; seven were filled, one of which was by someone eating mostly soda crackers; two were still not up to attending any area so laden with food. The five weary adults and two picky children did our best to do justice to the feast. Kalina mostly ate the almonds that were supposed to accompany a green bean dish (which turned into a green pea dish after I found I'd forgotten to stock up on the main ingredient), while Elise managed some sweet potato and a soda cracker. I let Kalina choose a Christmas cookie afterward so that it'd still feel like Christmas.

The afternoon slowly turned into evening, and we sadly said goodbye to Uncle Chris and Aunt Laura, albeit happy that both were healthy enough to make it to their next destination. We all then halfheartedly played with Christmas toys until Kalina requested to be put down for an early bedtime, stalled only a bit by some gentle playtime in her room.

But wait! Christmas presents weren't the only thing Uncle Chris took home with him--on a rather disastrous trip home that rivaled any flight we've ever complained about, due in part to flight problems and a labyrinthine airport parking lot, Uncle Chris also ended up coming down with Stomach Virus.

Christmas dinner! Ironic that one of
the reasons we got a big dining room
table was for this holiday.

As of this writing, Grandma is the only escapee. But will the virus strike its final victim tonight? And what of Grandpa Tom, Uncle Tom, Angela, Uncle David and Aunt Debbie, who will be visiting in the next few days? We await their fate, but can't wait to welcome them.

Meanwhile, we've spent the interim setting our washing machine to "hot" and Lysoling the bejeebers out of the house.

Not to mention playing with/negotiating over Christmas toys, as both girls found they could enjoy the other's presents almost as much as their own--so much, even, that taking turns was virtually impossible unless heavily refereed by one weary parent or the other.

It's a Girl-Lamb! The head of a
3-year-old and the feet of a lamb!
(See the tunnel?)

And yet, although we'll always be remembering it as the "Stomach Virus Christmas," we can't say it was a bad one, especially as seen from the girls' perspective. From games to stories to cooking (or "cooking," in Elise's case) to jumping on Grandpa's stomach until Daddy came to rescue him, it was truly a holiday punctuated with wonderful moments.

Merry Christmas after all!

The heart murmur (and random pictures)

Yesterday, Elise had her big cardiology appointment! This was the one that would tell us a few more specifics about her heart murmur, as well as whether or not it had closed.

Matt and I both attended, leaving Kalina with Grandpa. I was so grateful he could be there--not only would it have been nearly impossible to get out the door without him, but then he could pay attention to the doctor while I paid attention to Elise. My 3-hours-of-sleep/head cold brain was fried and I wouldn't have understood, let alone remembered, a word he said.


Long story short, Elise has one small hole and one tiny hole. They're near the apex (which is the bottom, yes, it's messed up), which is a good thing--the holes are more likely to close correctly there.

And they really should close, probably within her first year. As they're causing no problems, we'll simply return around Elise's first birthday to get her checked out again.

We actually find it strange we have to go back at all--she'll be fine either way and there's nothing they'd do even if the holes don't close.

And that's it! Enjoy the pics.

Photo 1: I love baby profiles
Photo 2: a couple weeks ago, at the park. Not sure why Kalina decided it'd be a good day to stick out her tongue for every picture. :-P
Photo 3: At the pumpkin patch. Silly Kalina!

Kalina's first ear infection

Last night, Matt and I splurged and went out on a date. We both needed a break after our week filled with a sick, clingy baby (now on the mend) and an overload of freelance work for me. We had a lovely time, and brought back lots of leftovers for lunches. Yum.

At 5:00 a.m. we were rocketed back to reality by our too-warm child and the realization that we'd left the leftovers in the car overnight, and they probably weren't fit for consumption. Dang.

Kalina had a fever of 101.4, the thermometer told us, and our go-to baby resource suggested we call the doctor. I managed to convince the weird receptionist to book us an appointment and I put the baby down for a nap so she would have a fighting chance at healing.

Then I worried, but not for long because Kalina took the shortest nap possible.

No matter, I would've had to wake her up prematurely anyway so I could whisk her to the doctor within the receptionist's "Please show up 15 minutes early" rule. Which really, I can't blame her for because heaven knows how hard it is to be on time for anything. Matt helped get us out the door, and as I was feeling a bit under the weather myself, promised to be on standby.

I had to kill a big, nasty spider who was on the inside of the windshield on the way. When it rains it pours.

At the office, the receptionist tried desperately to get Kalina to smile, but couldn't. She then informed me my insurance information had magically changed to "expired" on April 19. After she changed it back I hid in the corner with Kalina and we watched the fish in the tank. We really do have valid insurance by the way.

Within 5 minutes Kalina was trying to play peekaboo behind a play table with another patient's mother and I felt a little better, although the fact that she was touching things in a pediatrician waiting room made me nervous. What worse germs could she pick up?

We were called back, and the crying began as we weighed her. At 17 lbs., 14 ounces and 11 1/2 months old, Kalina has almost tripled her birth weight--which is perfect from everything I've heard. The slightly evil nurse (actually, she's very nice, but she doesn't seem to have any problem sticking things into babies, which I suppose makes her a good fit for her job but not someone I particularly trust) took her temperature (101.8) and listened to her heartbeat while Kalina protested with every ounce of her strength. Poor girl.

And then we waited for the doctor as I tried to reduce the sobs to whimpers and then to quiet and then to smiles (we never got to laughs).

The doctor in the office today happened to be my second favorite of the group, so I was happy to see him. I knew he'd give me clear answers that were in keeping with the latest scientific knowledge. I appreciate it when pediatricians know more about babies' health than I can readily find on the Internet. He also clearly understood the concept of stranger anxiety in young children and thankfully was able to examine Kalina quickly and kindly, in my arms the whole time. As she cried her little eyes out.

Much to my relief, the baby just has an ear infection, for which the doctor prescribed antibiotics. After one more visit with the crazy receptionist, we were on our way.

Back at home, Matt volunteered to pick up the prescription while I held down the fort with the baby. I let Kalina have all the Cheerios she wanted, and then I did something we've never tried before. I put some cartoons on the TV and sat with the baby on the couch.

The girl was so absorbed for the first 5 minutes that she dropped everything she was holding (she's always holding something) and stared, mouth slightly ajar. I decided I really could watch the Backyardigans for the rest of the day if it would make Kalina happy and settled in. I also applauded myself for only pulling out TV from my bag of tricks when we really needed it.

Minute number 6, Kalina was mildly entertained. Minute number 7, she was playing on the floor with her back to the TV. Minute number 8 I turned the show off because I didn't want to desensitize her, and also because I read once that babies don't learn well amid television, even if they're not actively watching it. Too bad--I was really getting into the plot.

Minute number 9, I fixed myself a piece of cake, because even though it was only 10:30 a.m. I'd been up for 5 1/2 hours and felt like I deserved it.

The baby hated her antibiotics, by the way, as well as the Motrin I gave her in case she was in pain.

So that's the story of Kalina's first ear infection. And with any luck, we've come to the end of it.

Teeth and other developments

Back in November, a woman at a consignment store, seeing Kalina sucking on her lower lip, informed me that Kalina was teething. Over Christmas, the internet let me know the same thing, judging by the random redness of her cheeks. At a playdate in January, Kalina's excessive drool was a dead giveaway, as was her fever in February. Essentially, people have been telling me for more than half of Kalina's life that she's teething.

So imagine my surprise on Monday morning when gumming turned into gnawing as I felt a kitten-sized tooth sprouting up from Kalina's gum. Matt was able to (ouch!) verify it later in the day, and it's official: Kalina almost has a tooth.

And what a tooth! At just a millimeter or so past her gums, Tooth has made it so we're lucky to get our knuckles out of her mouth still attached (yes, we occasionally use our fingers as teethers). We're beginning to wonder if all her teeth will be canines, but we couldn't be prouder.

This all means one thing: she's teething. Yikes?

I've pictured Kalina timing the introduction of teeth to correspond with the tail end of successive bouts of sleep training, so that we'd be crying it out in the middle of the night until next Christmas.

Alternatively, I've refused to believe Kalina would ever grow teeth--she certainly doesn't need them to eat with or make her cuter. And I have to admit that I'll miss her sweet, gummy smile.

However, I'm thrilled to report that Kalina's tooth-in-progress has hardly made her crankier or more wakeful (during the night, at least--naps are another matter) than she had been before. I'd insert a smart remark here about the various reasons we may not notice teething-specific fussiness, but she's really been quite nice lately so I won't.

We feel like we've won the lottery, but we also feel like we're owed an easy bout of teething after Kalina's first 6 months of angsty boredom and months 3.5-8 of mostly rotten sleep.

Meanwhile, Kalina continues to crawl reluctantly, as crawling is contrary to the core truth of her philosophy of transportation, which states that walking is the only acceptable mode. She knows how to "cruise" along couches and tables, but chooses not to for the same reason--walking should be in a forward motion, never side-to-side. Side-to-side walking is for crabs, not princesses.

Kalina will admit openly that she had trouble reconciling her need to transport herself with the fact that she can only do so using her knees (for now), but has worked it out by using one knee and one foot as she crawls. In this gimpy way, she is able to get around fairly well, gladly sacrificing speed and ease of movement to keep in step with her philosophy. Pun intended.

The house is Kalina's playgym as she pulls/pushes up on anything an inch or higher off the ground (or attempts to), then proudly smiles around and waits for applause when she makes it. And then topples over. And then cries. And then does it all again 30 seconds later, so that Mommy can't so much as fix herself a bowl of cereal without rushing to the baby's rescue several times.

She can stand no-handed for a while, especially if she's distracted. (How long is "a while?" I wonder all the time. Long enough for me to pour milk on my cereal and/or eat a bowl? Or just barely long enough for me to dash over and catch her by the armpits as she loses her balance?) She can even sit down on her own sometimes. She gleefully chases the cats at every opportunity, pulling us behind her with our hands clamped in her no-nonsense grip.

Babyproofing is something we now discuss daily in our attempt to protect Kalina's pretty head and brilliant brain, as is buying the girl a helmet.

Also cute: she loves carrying small objects with her wherever she goes and turning the pages of books. It should be noted that board books are the only ones strong enough to survive even one page-turn.

Video: A not-too-exciting, but still cute sequence of Kalina playing nicely with Mommy and Daddy a couple weeks ago before the urge to pull up really hit. Those were the days!

Photo: I sewed Kalina a dress and made her a cloth ball to match. She's chewing on a measuring tape, which doubles as a teether. As does everything nowadays.

Quarantine, please

The funny thing about having a baby is that all of a sudden you have to be an adult.

As a child, when you get sick you're waited on hand and foot. You stake out one of the couches for days on end and just kind of peacefully languish until you feel better. Looking back, there's nothing better.

As a childless adult, you take it easy for a few days. Everyone understands.

As the proud owner of a new baby, the only change is that life just gets harder. You get even less sleep, if that's humanly possible. You have to use one hand to hold the baby, another one to fix dinner and now a third to blow your nose.

So ever since Kalina was born, one of the things I dreaded most was when both she and I would inevitably be sick. I pictured sleepless nights rocking a screaming baby who couldn't breathe through her nose, subjecting her to every treatment the Internet could suggest, and bundling her up for a trip to the emergency room, only to decide that wasn't necessary, only to bundle her up again 30 minutes later. Only to want to go to the ER myself so maybe they'd let me sit in the waiting room and just sit. Languish peacefully. Maybe fill out a form or two.

Therefore, when Matt came down with a cold after Thanksgiving, I inherited it a week later, and the baby cried hoarsely a couple days after that, I almost checked into a hotel.

First, a word about hoarse crying: for one, it's a fact. Even babies who are still only speaking in vowels can sound hoarse. Of course, I tried for a full 12 hours to convince myself that 1.) I was imagining things, and once I couldn't deny it anymore that 2.) She was only hoarse because she had cried it out a bit the night before--kind of like how adults can get hoarse from cheering on a football team.

Unfortunately, I learned I can't just make something up and decide it's true--the baby was, in fact, sick with a cold. I was initially very impressed at her stamina in holding out a good week and a half after the germs were initially introduced.

This was soon followed by the realization that my worries about sleepless nights would only have been legitimate had I been getting decent sleep to begin with, which I'm still not (I'll spare you the details, but we're back to slogging through our nights again). It was a sad, sad, sad irony.

And then the most amazing thing happened: Kalina mellowed. Not only did she not sleep any worse than she had been sleeping, but she became easier during the day. When I put her someplace, she quietly played, or watched whatever I was doing. She might stay that way for as many as 10 minutes at a time. I busied myself around the house doing laundry and wrapping Christmas presents, thoroughly enjoying my emancipation.

What a pleasant surprise, I thought. Am I a terrible parent for enjoying my baby's misery? I should add a caveat here that Kalina didn't actually seem to be miserable: she was her usual self, just a bit more patient. Maybe her cold reminded her that she depends on me for survival and so maybe should occasionally give Mommy an easy day (still waiting for an easy night).

Once I got over my initial shock and delight, I realized that my baby does a much better job of weathering a cold than I do.

Then a brief second went by in which I considered the possibility of purposely infecting my child next time I had a large freelance project, or just a lot to get done around the house. Would that be so bad???

It may still get worse. But in the meantime, life continues pretty much as usual, except for the fact that we've added a few things to our repertoire of "maybe she's cold, maybe she's wet, maybe she's bored, maybe she's hungry, maybe she's tired, maybe she's overtired, maybe she's not tired, maybe she's gassy, maybe she's warm" to explain why she's fussy or won't sleep. We now have "maybe she's congested, maybe her throat hurts" to flip through as well. It's still anybody's guess most of the time.

2 freakouts in 2 days

It's been a stressful couple of days.

In the very wee hours of Thursday morning, I was, of course, awake. I was also in pain, something I'm getting used to by now but still don't enjoy, despite all my lamaze instructor's best efforts. So what could the pain be this time? Was I going to have yet another baby? I chalked it up to the Bojangles potato salad I'd had the night before and decided it really needed to be gone by morning.

I woke up for the next feeding--the pain was all gone! Until I actually moved, at which point it felt as if someone had filled my insides with gravel.

By morning it had lessened to more of a dull, yet very painful when I moved, ache, but it was still there. I also felt crummy. My temperature was 99.6, and I had extra bleeding. Google told me I should've already called the doctor and I might have an infection. Oh joy. I called and began the long process of getting them to actually call me back.

Meanwhile, I was trying to take care of a newborn--not an easy task on the best of days. Morale was low.

When Matt got home, he, too, turned to Google. What I heard from him: "You may have endometritis. It should clear up just fine with antibiotics, but there's a chance you might have to stay in the hospital. Don't worry, it's fine."

What he told me later he actually read: "Endometritis can be fatal." On the way to the doctor's appointment he asked me what brand of formula we would use if we needed to.

The pain got worse as soon as what I might have had a name, and freaking out ensued. Which probably caused more pain and thus more freaking out.

My day was made a bit easier by the fact that my doctor's appointment (they finally called back) was scheduled directly between feedings--it really couldn't have been more perfect. Kalina and Matt came with me, just in case and because I wasn't really up to driving, and Kalina charmed everyone in the waiting area by her cuteness and angelic behavior. She was wide-eyed most of the time, even in the car on the way. Hopefully Matt, for his part, didn't charm too many people by his cuteness.

The doctor seemed a bit puzzled by me, but fortunately not in a "you're crazy, go home" kind of way. I mentioned endometritis (although I know I didn't pronounce it right) and he immediately ruled it out, a fact that concerned Matt (and me, too, to be honest). I also mentioned the Bojangles potato salad, which he also ruled out. I guess I'm not meant to be a doctor. After lots of questions and examining, he decided that there really was some sort of a problem (we don't know exactly what) and prescribed 2 drugs to take care of it. Whew. No hospital stay for me!

One of the prescriptions needs to be taken every 6 hours for 10 days. No problem--I'm up all the time anyway so it's not like I'll be losing any sleep. Until I read the fine print, which says I can't lay down for 30 minutes after taking each dose, meaning I have to take this at the beginning of a feeding or else I'll lose out on 30 precious minutes of sleep--which is sometimes a full 20% of what I get for the night. The timing worked out well enough last night (Matt agreed that I can fluctuate an hour either way) but I'm not optimistic. The other drug could give me contractions, although I just finished the last dose and haven't felt much.

I'm feeling much better this morning, thank goodness. It's either the medications or the fact that Matt and I both slept through one of Kalina's feedings (Kalina slept through it, too). Oops. She seemed quite content, though (she'd spent about 4 hours of the previous evening grazing), so we're pretty sure we're not the worst parents ever.

The second freakout involved the umbilical cord stump, which Matt had informed me was hanging by a thread. This is all very normal, but that hadn't prepared me for actually seeing the thread this morning. It, unfortunately, looked like real umbilical cord, and was accompanied by dried blood. Yikes!!!

It didn't help that Kalina was screaming for no apparent reason. I convinced myself that she was not only in physical pain, but in emotional turmoil as well, seeing this little piece of her falling off. Remember: she has yet to even lose a tooth. Even as I tried to be calm, I started screaming also, and we both had a mother-daughter freakout session. As precious as that sounds, I was glad when it was over. She quieted a bit and I held her a little while (while Google told me that blood is normal, as is having the stump fall off on day 13, and when it does come off I should clean the area well with alcohol, and by the way it doesn't hurt the baby) before deciding to change her diaper.

I carefully lifted her so as not to rip the chunk off by mishandling, but saw, more to my relief than disgust, that it had come off on its own and had nestled down into the diaper. Good, I didn't even have to touch it.

The raw cord-ness of the final string had folded over, or something, into the baby so I was left with relatively healed skin and a little dried blood. That I could deal with. Kalina was being sweet and quiet (I guess she was over the mental anguish), so cleaning the area was relatively mentally painless for me, and physically painless for her. Whew. Crisis overcome.

I'm looking forward to a relatively calm weekend, please.