Bad day at work

There are sometimes just far too many heart-warming and wonderful, too-cute-for-words moments in pediatrics, and sometimes there are just days where you want someone to stab you in the brain with a shiv to end the misery.  I knew it was going to be a miserable day today when I was driving to work, and I pulled into the garage at 7:47 am, and got a page from a nurse "Family X wants you to discharge their before 8 am today, please do this ASAP."  Then a page 3 seconds later as I am turning off the engine, "Please call Y, Baby Z's dad anxious to discuss feeds."

No sooner had I stumbled into the hospital before nurses descending upon me with warnings about x, y, and z.  I know no one is at their best, hormonally-speaking, after giving birth, and I know that first-time parenting can be a nerve-wracking experience, but holy smokes, folks!  A pimple on your newborn's face is not reason enough to yell at the poor nurse and threaten to sue the hospital because the doctor-on-call wasn't alerted of it the night before.  The day kind of just dragged on with annoying little tid bits like this.  Everyone's emotional excess baggage could not fit into the overhead bins, and everyone was throwing a hissy fit about having to check it or pay extra to have it checked.

8 teeth

I'm sure I've heard it before, but sometimes when I see my daughter, I think "YOU'RE the one I've been waiting for!" You're the one I've been waiting for all my life.

I felt that way when she first popped into the world, and the nurses and obstetrician put her on my belly.  I saw her slimy head and warm back, and I thought, "oh hello, my dear, I have no idea who you are, but you're my favorite person in the whole wide world." And that thought occurs to me every once in a while.

She was sitting in her high chair, wrinkling her nose and smiling with all 8 of her teeth at her uncle this morning, and I thought, "Oh, you're incredibly funny and cute.  No one else will think this of you except for me."  There are probably lots of 93 year-old men with only 8 teeth who flash lots of smiles in this world, but it only comes across as adorable and cute when you're 18 months old, and the apple of a mother's eye, I guess.

I guess that's what maternal love is.  I guess I'm really lucky to have this moment in my life.

18 months old: "no" and "mine"

These past few weeks, my daughter has developed some very definite opinions about her activities, clothing, food choices, everything.  A typical conversation:

Me: Okay, mommy is going to put you down so she can go to the bathroom.

Willful Child (WC): No.

Me: I have to go to the bathroom.  You can come inside, but I have to go.

WC: No.

Me: I'm going now, hold my hand.

WC: NOOOOOO!!!!!

Rationalization doesn't work at this age.  Sometimes options do.  She will scream bloody murder ("NOOOOO!!!") when you offer her Cheerios, but then you offer her something else ("How about some blueberries?") and there might be some hesitation, but "yes" is not in her vocabulary...occasionally, I will get a small, limp, "ahh-right" (all right) when she is ever-so-slightly agreeable.   

One of her favorite activities of the moment is dumping all her toys everywhere and rolling around in them, much in the same way bank robbers in cheesy movies throw money on the floor and roll around in piles of cash.  It looks very satisfying.  Another favorite is breaking crayons and then peeling all the paper off them.  I don't know why her activities are so entropic in nature.  

The other maddening thing right now is how possessive she is.  I know toddlers supposedly develop empathy only in later toddlerhood, but it's a little difficult to watch your child grab a toy to her chest and shout "mine," or shout "share" at another little toddler and then take something away from them.  You can't apologetically explain to another parent, "Sorry, she hasn't yet developed theory of mind yet, other-personed-ness isn't a strong suit right now."  

Some of the cute and funny things, though, are how she likes to run over to try to put her shoes and baseball hat on when she wants to go out.  She also likes burying her face into her stuffed animals when she gives them hugs.  And while "singing," she will wholeheartedly put her hands up in the air and sway with the music and get some lyrics right.  The funniest thing right now is how we've noticed that one of the pieces of her alphabet puzzle are missing - the "Q" has been missing for a while, which we've talked about, and she will randomly, and of her own free will, start looking for the "Q," pawing around her piles of toys, peering under the couches, and tell me "Da Q missing for ah-WILE."  It's also become an excuse for not going to bed -- as I get her ready to get into the crib, she will tell me, "No, mommy, no, no.  Downstairs?  Go downstairs? Da Q missing for ah-WILE." The excuses at bed time, I fear, are just becoming more intricately complex and fabulous.  

Dear Friends,

I used to have a real "blog" that was periodically updated and infinitely boring, and now I'm finding the urge to start yet another one.  "Blogs" fall into one of two categories: self-consciously vainglorious pursuits (assuming there's a partial audience) or actual money-making/journalistic endeavors.  This most definitely falls into the former.  

I'm not sure if this blog has a focus or a theme, as a lot of personal blogs do, such as "cooking" or "parenting" or "awesome travel photography" or "holistic living/yoga" or  "medicine and health."  This is a just a place where I comment on stuff that happens in my life.  For example, this is my 18 month-old daughter, who does not know how to jump yet, but is valiantly attempting to do so in a bouncy castle:

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I kind of want to kick that kid who keeps on knocking her down, but I also find it hilarious that she's getting knocked down so much, like that Chumbawamba song.  It was also Valentine's Day, so I also couldn't help thinking, "Oh, baby, don't take it so hard -- boys aren't the end-all-be-all on a day that has far more exciting aspects to it, like candy and chocolate." 

Anyhow, she didn't seem to be hurt from getting smacked around in the bouncy castle, and in fact, loves going there.  So I'm hoping it doesn't count as an inauspicious beginning to my blog.