She's a belly sleeper

many advise babies not to sleep on their bellies due to sids. but, we've discovered that isabella sleeps better and longer on her belly. to all those who are super cautious and worried, we keep an eye on her, and she's in her pack 'n play when she's sleeping on her belly. nothing's loose in the pack 'n play. that means no blankets, toys, etc. just isabella.

okey dokey, nighty-night!

She turns herself over, even on hard surfaces

I had thought that perhaps Isabella was having no problems turning herself over because the soft surface, a mattress, was helping her out. Well, tonight, after giving her a bath, I put her on the kitchen counter, cushioned ofcourse by a hooded towel and regular towel underneath that. Anyways, she turned herself over on her belly twice. Probably would have turned over more had I allowed her to do so. Strong one, that little baby.

sticking her hand in her mouth a bit too far

Today's the first day, on two separate occasions, that Isabella, while exploring the appendages on her hand, she stuck some of her fingers a bit too far and gagged herself. Silly girl. Silly, silly Isabella.

Isabella's 3 months old today

Our little darling is 3 months old today. How time has flown by! I've taken some pictures of her, but I don't have much time to fiddle with and post pictures. Am trying to help Troy get things ready for selling on Ebay and I want to make a La Leche League meeting tonight.

Took her to her pediatrician just to weigh her. She's 10 lbs. and 3 oz. Perfectly respectable weight for a petite gal, I think.

Ta ta.

P.S. I'm at a reasonable weight, too. I checked while at the doc.'s office.

Would your spouse drink your breastmilk?

This is kind of funny, interesting. I was talking with one of my girlfriends the other day, the person shall remain nameless. Just think of the person as someone you don't know. Anyways, she makes an ample supply of milk. In fact, she can pump eight to nine ounces at a time. Too much for baby to consume by herself. Guess what? Her husband drinks at least a glass of breastmilk everyday.

Are you having the following reaction . . . ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww! Well, that's what we're conditioned to think or believe. I haven't had the courage to try more than a drop of my own breastmilk. But, doctors say that the breastmilk is highly nutritious and easy to digest. So, what's to stop someone from enjoying such benefits?

Daddy putting baby to bed last night

Last night, thank goodness for my hubby. After I nursed little princess, he prepared her for bed. She was very quite throughout her bath, and she was even quiet for a bit while Daddy rocked her. Then, she decided to announce how tired she was. After Daddy laid her down in our bed, she kept crying and crying. Daddy asked whether little princess was hungry. Unfortunately, I recognized that exhausted crying sound.

Daddy was doing his best to get Isabella to fall asleep - laying next to her, reading a story, giving her a pacifier. In the end, Mommy came in to help them out. Holding the pacifier in her mouth, I sang quietly in her ear. Eventually she not only calmed down but fell asleep. Yay!

Mommy's Letter to Santa

Dear Santa,

I've been a good mom all year.
I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my children on

demand, visited the doctor's office more than
my doctor, sold sixty-two cases of candy bars
to raise money to plant a shade tree on the
school playground. I was hoping you could
spread my list out over several Christmas+es,
since I had to write this letter with my son's
red crayon, on the back of a receipt in the
laundry room between cycles, and who knows
when I'll find anymore free time in the next
18 years.


Here are my Christmas wishes:

I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache
(in any color, except purple, which
I already have) and arms that don't hurt
or flap in the breeze; but are strong enough to
pull my screaming child out of the candy aisle in the
grocery store.

I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere
in the seventh month of my last pregnancy.

If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like
fingerprint resistant windows and a radio that
only plays adult music; a television that doesn't
broadcast any programs containing talking animals;
and a refrigerator with a secret compartment
behind the crisper where I can hide to talk on the
phone.

On the practical side, I could use a talking doll
that says, "Yes, Mommy" to boost my parental
confidence, along with two kids who don 't fight and
three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up
without the use of power tools.

I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks
chanting "Don't eat in the living room" and "Take
your hands off your brother," because my voice seems
to be just out of my children's hearing range and can
only be heard by the dog.

If it's too late to find any of these products, I'd settle
for enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair
in the same morning, or the luxury of eating food
warmer than room temperature without it being
served in a Styrofoam container.

If you don't mind, I could also use a few Christmas
miracles to brighten the holiday season. Would it
be too much trouble to declare ketchup a vegetable?
It will clear my conscience immensely. It would be
helpful if you could coerce my children to help around
the house without demanding payment as if they were
the bosses of an organized crime family.

Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and
my son saw my feet under the laundry room door.
I think he wants his crayon back.

Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet
boots by the door and come in and dry off so you
don't catch cold.

Help yourself to cookies on the table but don't eat
too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.

Yours Always, MOM...!

P.S. One more thing...you can cancel all my
requests if you can keep my children young enough
to believe in Santa.

*Santa has asked that this gets passed on to
all the mommies you know

Isabella laughs for the first time

I heard Isabella laugh for the first time. Happened approximately ten minutes ago, when I was trying to get her to sleep. See another of my blogs for more details: A Day in the Life of Lily.

Isabella on Sunday

2006-12-10

Isabella was wearing this top with a cute red dress, that Auntie Junko bought for her. Alas, I didn't take any pictures with her wearing the dress, yet.

Yesterday, I met with Martha, the lactation consultant at the hospital. Met her at Starbucks, just to catch up with her and to let her see how Isabella has grown. Had a great time with her. She worked wonders, even in our brief visit. She was able to get Isabella to fall asleep in the cradle position, with the help of a pacifier and her special touch.

Anyways, while we were chatting, she again asked whether I'm breastfeeding exclusively. Certainly am, I responded. She beamed proudly. One of many things we discussed included the fact that somehow breastfed babies, from her observation, really like to stick their tongues out! And, they tend to be long and lean. Good, good, because Isabella certainly looks far from super chubby.

Hope to get together with Martha somewhat regularly. She's a fantastic gal.

The Lamaze Chime Garden Toy

This toy is labeled for 6-24 mos. But, when we were at Target, Isabella seemed so fascinated by it, we got it for one of her Christmas gifts. There are three settings on the thing. When placed on the first setting, each flower head plays one note and lights up when pressed. On the second setting, different flower heads light up at various times and a portion of a song is played. When another flower head is presed (or the same one is pressed again), more of the song is played, and so on. On the third setting, when a flower head is pressed, it plays one of two songs, The Happy Farmer or, oh, I can't remember the name of the song.

Anyways, during Isabella's activity time, which is usually between eating and sleeping, she loves to watch the flower heads light up and listen to the music.

A $143959.40 bill for the NICU

Yesterday, we received an Explanation of Benefits (EOB) from BlueCross BlueShield of Texas for Isabella's Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) stay. The total amount billed is: $143,959.40. What's interesting is, according to this EOB, at this point, all of it is not covered. It's being researched to see whether those servicecs were medically necessary. Our claim for Isabella will be processed when that additional information is received.

I'll say. Saving her life counts as being medically necessary, don't you?!

A great investment . . . the price of children

Another great forward for mommies . . .

The Price of Children

This is just too good not to pass on to all. Something absolutely
positive for a change. I have repeatedly seen the breakdown of the
cost of raising a child, but this is the first time I have seen the
rewards listed this way. It's nice.

The government recently calculated the cost of raising a child from
birth to 18 and came up with $160,140.00 for a middle income family.
Talk about price shock! That doesn't even touch college tuition.
But $160, 140.00 isn't so bad if you break it down. It translates
into:

* $8,896.66 a year,
* $741.38 a month, or
* $171.08 a week.
* That's a mere $24.24 a day!
* Just over a dollar an hour.

Still, you might think the best financial advice is don't have
children if you want to be "rich." Actually, it is just the
opposite.

What do you get for your $160,140.00?

* Naming rights. First, middle, and last!
* Glimpses of God every day.
* Giggles under the covers every night.
* More love than your heart can hold.
* Butterfly kisses and Velcro hugs.
* Endless wonder over rocks, ants, clouds, and warm cookies.
* A hand to hold, usually covered with jelly or chocolate.
* A partner for blowing bubbles and flying kites.
* Someone to laugh yourself silly with, no matter what the boss said
or how your stocks performed that day.

For $160,140.00, you never have to grow up. You get to:

* finger-paint,
* carve pumpkins,
* play hide-and-seek,
* catch lightning bugs, and
* never stop believing in Santa Claus.

You have an excuse to:

* keep reading the Adventures of Piglet and Pooh,
* watch Saturday morning cartoons,
* go to Disney movies, and
* wish on stars.
* You get to frame rainbows, hearts, and flowers under refrigerator
magnets and collect spray painted noodle wreaths for Christmas, hand
prints set in clay for Mother's Day, and cards with backward letters
for Father's Day.

For a mere $24.24 a day, there is no greater bang for your buck. You
get to be a hero just for:

* retrieving a Frisbee off the garage roof,
* taking the training wheels off a bike,
* removing a splinter,
* filling a wading pool,
* coaxing a wad of gum out of bangs, and coaching a baseball team that
never wins but always gets treated to ice cream regardless.




You get a front row seat in history to witness the:



* first step,
* first word,
* first bra,
* first date, and
* first time behind the wheel.



You get to be immortal. You get another branch added to your family
tree, and if you're lucky, a long list of limbs in your obituary
called grandchildren and great grandchildren. You get an education in
psychology, nursing, criminal justice, communi cations, and human
sexuality that no college can match.


In the eyes of a child, you rank right up there under God. You have
all the power to heal a boo-boo, scare away the monsters under the
bed, patch a broken heart, police a slumber party, ground them
forever, and love them without limits, so one day they will, like you,
love without counting the cost. That is quite a deal for the price!!!!!!!


Love &
enjoy your children &
grandchildren!!!!!!!


It's the best investment you can make!

Just a Mom

My best friend Christine sent me this forward. All you moms out there, especially, will appreciate this too.

JUST A MOM?

A woman, renewing her driver's

license at the County Clerk's office
was asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation.

She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.

"What I mean is," explained the recorder,

"do you have a job or are you just a......?"

"Of course I have a job," snapped the woman.

"I'm a Mom."

"We don't list 'Mom' as an occupation, 'housewife' covers it," said
the recorder emphatically.

I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same
situation, this time at our own Town Hall.

The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient and
possessed of a high sounding title like, "Official Interrogator" or
"Town Registrar."

"What is your occupation?" she probed.

What made me say it?

I do not know.

The words simply popped out.

"I'm a Research Associate in the field of

Child Development and Human Relations."

The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in midair and

looked up as though she had not heard right.

I repeated the title slowly emphasizing the most significant words.

Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written,

in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.

"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest,

"just what you do in your field?"

Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself
reply,

"I have a continuing program of research,

[what mother doesn't)

in the laboratory and in the field,

(normally I would have said indoors and out).

I'm working for my Masters, (the whole darned family)

and already have four credits (all daughters).

Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities,

(any mother care to disagree?)

and I often work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it).

But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and
the rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just money."

There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she

completed the form, stood up and personally ushered me to the door.

As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career,

I was greeted by my lab assistants -- ages 13, 7, and 3.

Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model,

(a 6 month old baby) in the child development program,

testing out a new vocal pattern.

I felt I had scored a beat on bureaucracy!

And I had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished
and indispensable to mankind than

"just another Mom." Motherhood!

What a glorious career!

Especially when there's a title on the door.


Does this make grandmothers

"Senior Research associates in the field of

Child Development and Human Relations"

and great grandmothers

"Executive Senior Research Associates"?

I think so!!!

I also think it makes Aunts

"Associate Research Assistants".



Please send this to another Mom,

Grandmother,

Aunt,

and other friends you know.

May your troubles be less,

your blessings be more

and nothing but happiness come through your door!

I give up

Isabella blew out of her diaper while she was strapped to the Baby Bjorn this morning. I give up. I guess that's just going to happen. Better than one of my girlfriend's situations. Her baby loves to poop in the middle of a diaper change. She said that she and her husband have to wash their sheets several times a week.

3 naps today, is this my child?

Count 'em folks. Isabella's taken a total of 3 naps today. Is this really my child? Is she sick? Each nap has lasted about an hour.

I actually had a chance to pay bills and log my students' attendance into the computer. Wow!

We'll see what happens tomorrow.

hoping that a change in diaper size will take care of some of the blowout issues

Isabella's been out of the Pampers' Newborn diapers for awhile now, but she still fits into the Huggies' Newborn quite well. However, given that she's blown out of her diapers three times in about a week's time and given that I used our last Huggies' Newborn diaper this morning, I am switching her to Pampers Size 1 diapers. I realize that many babies, besides Isabella, have diaper blowouts, but I'd like to have as few incidents as possible. Hope this little project helps for awhile.

the story of my life

For the third time in a week or so, Isabella had a poop explosion. Again, the explosion occurred while she was strapped to the Baby Bjorn, while I was carrying her. She pooped through her onesie, on the Baby Bjorn, on my shirt, on my shorts, and on to the floor!!

One thing I've learned through all this is how difficult it is to get ALL traces of baby poop out of clothing.

The Baby Bjorn had to be washed. My clothes had to be washed. Her onesie had to be washed. This is the story of my life.

How the bed-time routine is fairing

Well, I'm happy to report that I have held steadfast to not nursing Isabella to sleep. A week has passed since I started her bed-time routine. One of us, usually Troy, bottlefeeds her breastmilk. I give her a bath. Then I read her a book, usually several times, and sing her to sleep. This routine takes on average of an hour and a half before Isabella is really asleep.

It will still be awhile before she's ready and we're ready for her to sleep in her own bed. Alright, alright, many of you are probably itching to impart your wisdom of how to put babies to sleep on to us at this point. But, you might as well save your breath, because we've made up our minds, and we're doing things our way. Isabella doesn't like to sleep alone. I can tell because after she is first asleep and she stirs to find Mommy amiss, she gets quite upset. When I lay down next to her and sing to her, she eventually falls asleep again. Besides, we like having her next to us. Sweet, sweet baby. Okay, I smell lunch calling, got to run. Bye.

Isabella smiling for Mommy in the bouncer

2006-11-30

Isabella's less colicky these days. That's not to say she doesn't ever cry seemingly inconsolably. She does cry less, in an inconsolable fashion. Hooray!

Also, she's learned to discern Mommy from everyone else, including Daddy. At times, she will only be held by Mommy. If she's held by anyone else, she cries.

bath pictures

I took these pictures a few days ago, on November 28th.


She's in a plastic tub the hospital sent home with us. And, the tub is inside the kitchen sink. I think the infant tub is still a bit big for her.

Thsi picture was taken after her bath.