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By Richie Ann Ashcraft
Monday, December 18, 2006
I never thought I could breastfeed for a whole year! It seems like such a long time to have milk coming out of my chest. But, I did it among the other many things I didn't think I was capable of....like never sleeping.
Being that Soren is six weeks away from the big #1, I thought weaning should be on the parenting agenda. He nurses only three times; right before bed, ALL
night long, and first thing in the morning. I thought we should probably start by eliminating the All
night long feeding.
First, I bought a bag of disposable diapers for him to wear to bed. I know...the shame of it. But, cloth just wasn't cutting it at night. He's wet and he can feel he's wet. He'd wake up soaking at least three times a night and each time he woke he thought he needed fed. That had to stop.
We just had to tough out the other nighttime squalls. I know, we've tried this before but our success rate was hit and miss. This time we figured it out.....a pact between parents that no matter what, no matter how tired, no matter how loud, no matter how our heartstrings hurt....we would not get him out of his bed.
Three nights with the pillow over our heads and we have success. He sleeps All
night long. So much so that now I check him to make sure he's okay and put the blanket on him. Last night I didn't hear a peep from him.
And daddy and I are getting the best sleep we've had in a long time.
Two more feedings to go and those I hear are the hardest to quit. I think I'll start with the pre-bed nursing as it seems the one he'll most likely give up easily.
The nurse at my office suggests supplementing with a little formula at meal times to make sure he's getting all the iron he needs. Seems when they say 1 year before cow's milk they mean Exactly
one year. Not a week too soon!!
I'm hoping the weaning process goes slowly and smoothly over the next couple of months. I find myself sad to be giving it up but relieved of the burden at the same time.
By Richie Ann Ashcraft
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Note: Richie organized the following transcript of our iChat conversation and added her editorial comments. My comments are in italics
The Daily Sentinel is a great place to work not only because of our exemplary staff but also because it can be a lot of fun. Ask any employee and they will tell you that it is the people they work with that make the high stress world of a daily newspaper tolerable.
We have numerous gadgets and the latest software at our fingertips to keep us entertained so you just Richie: never know what sort of hijinx will occur next. One day a morphed coworker's face appears by the water fountain or a picture of a red faced baboon might grace the back door.
I snuck up on Robin and snapped this picture of her staying cool under pressure:
(This is not a good picture of me. It looks like a photo of my face was slapped on the side of a baked ham.)
Later we had this conversation about a fellow coworker and his new squirrel which he dug out of my boss's dumpster yesterday.
Rendezvous IM with Robin Dearing
Robin: I've got a good question.
Robin: So, Richie, what's up with Daniel's squirrel and why won't you look at it?
Richie: daniel is always trying to get me to look at stuff that
Robin: Never mind.
Robin: You're good. I thought my question was revealing too much too early.
Richie: take 2
Robin: Hey Richie.
Richie: yes robin?
Robin: What's up with Daniel and his giant squirrel?
Richie: i don't know
Richie: he wanted it
Robin: (remember be edgy)
Richie: oh yeah edgy
Richie: take 3
Robin: Hey Richie
(phone, hang on)
Robin: K. I'm back.
Robin: Hey Richie.
Richie: yes robin
Robin: What's up with Daniel's big squirrel?
Richie: Daniel has a big squirrel?
Robin: (OH I agree)
Richie: Meanwhile back in richie's cube
Richie: I saw that big squirrel but I didn't look at it
Robin: You saw it but you didn't look at it.
Richie: even though he yelled out "Hey richie come look at my big ‘ol squirrel
Richie: take 4
Richie: so daniel calls me and says:
Richie: not hello or hey richie
Richie: just hey bring me that big squirrel
Richie: so i hauled it down to him
Robin: he should fetch his own big squirrel.
Richie: i know
Richie: then he set it on his desk and yelled out
Richie: "hey Richie....wanna see my big squirrel???"
Richie: and I said
Robin: Did you look at his big squirrel?
Richie: not unless it's packing big nuts
(Do squirrels pack their nuts? In their mouth or something?)
Richie: no i didn't look at his squirrel or his nuts
Richie: what kinda lady do you think i am?
Robin: That's probably a good idea.
Richie: did you look at it?
Robin: I don't think co-workers are allowed to show each other their squirrels — nuts or
Richie: Naw, I avoid big squirrels whenever possible.
Richie: Especially at work.
Robin: me too
Richie: and i don't look at them either
Robin: That's a good policy.
Yes, that's an actual conversation. Hey, whatever gets you through the day right?
Here is the coworker who has an actual squirrel that used to reside in my boss's trash now on his desk. We are supposed to be cleaning not dumpster diving.
(Yes, he is blushing. I guess that's what happens when he invites coworkers to lookit his squirrel.)
By Richie Ann Ashcraft
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Today at lunch my baby threw his first full-fledged tantrum.
He kept putting his grubby post-lunch fingers where they should not be as I was trying to wet a washcloth to clean him up with.
"No Soren..." I said firmly as I lifted him to a safer place across the living room. I walked back to the kitchen. He crawled a beeline right back to the offending object.
"No!!! That's not for you," I said as I lifted him back to the safer location. This time he protested by wriggling and squirming. Again with the thunk thunk
of hands and knees locomotion.
Sigh. "I said NO!" and he was airlifted to the couch again. This time with that annoying whining noise "AAAAaHHHHHHH" coming out of his mouth and his head leaned way back over my arm. Thunk-thunk again in a hurried baby fashion.
"No!" If anything you have to give me points for being consistent. This time I just sat on the couch and watched his open defiance as he crawled back.
"I said NO!" this time tapping his offensive hand to get his attention and moved him back to the center of the room.
Where he crumbled into a screaming mess. I sat on the couch and watched with my best mom is the boss
He watched me as he cried dryly. Then he banged his head a few times really really hard on the floor. He looked up to see what my reaction to that would be.
I sat stony faced but in my head I thought "Oh my....he's throwing a tantrum. That was pretty funny. I bet it hurt. Don't laugh out loud. Stay poker faced. This doesn't bother you at all. I can't believe he's 10 months and already testing me. "
He rolled around on the floor for a few more seconds. Then he beelined back to the off limits area. But this time he crawled a wide circle in front of it. Then another. He slowed down as he came near his object of desire looking at me questionally each time.
When he came near I said "No Soren." He smiled sheepishly like his intentions were innocent.
"That little %$^&,"
I thought "Don't smile. Don't Smile. Man, he's cute."
Then he went to play with his pony as if nothing had happened.
By Robin Dearing
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
"Um, Mama, so how is Bing?'
I was standing in the bathroom trying to get myself together for work. It was exactly the question that I was hoping she wouldn't ask until after school today.
I tried to stifle my tears and figure out how I was going to explain that I had my sweet, old kitty put down last night.
I told her that his kidneys weren't working anymore and that the doctor had to put him to sleep.
"Does that mean that he's dead?" was her reply. I nodded yes.
She cried but still managed to brush her teeth and get herself ready to come to my work before she headed to school.
She'd be her normal self for a bit, then she'd tell me how sad she was.
"I wish you'd never taken him to that place," referring to the emergency veterinary clinic I found in the yellow pages.
After I explained that he was really sick and already dying, she said, "I wish you'd taken him there sooner."
But the fact is that old is old and nothing can turn back the hands of time.
I'd had that cat longer than I've been married to Bill (and longer than my first marriage, too).
I bought Bing from a pet store in Pennsylvania not because he was so cute I had to have him, but because I knew that no one else would buy him.
Pet stores that sell cats and dogs are often evil places where the animals are treated like merchandise. Bing was covered in fleas (something we, pet owners, in glorious Western Colorado have little worry over) and parrot poop as he seemed to like to hang out below the bird's cage. His fur was all matted and his head seems a couple sizes too big for his tiny body.
Who was gonna spend a bunch of money on a pure-bred Persian that was all pathetic looking? Oh right, me.
He turned out to be the cutest little guy, even if he was timid and goofy. He never exhibited the grace and dexterity that is innate to other cats. Instead, he would fall down or get stuck.
But he was sweet. And he did develop some talents. He could beg for cat treats like no other. He even learned how to scoop a treat off the coffee table with his paw and put it into his mouth.
I've never had to have a pet euthanized before and it was the suckiest decision I've ever had to make. Richie and I talked this morning about the passing of her kitty who died at home in October.
At home or at the vet's office, it sucks either way.
I've worked in animal hospitals before. I've seen cases where owners were unwilling to accept the inevitable. They would have procedure after procedure done in order to eek out a little more time with their pet.
I told myself a long time ago, that I would not do that to my pets. I wouldn't put them through costly and often futile treatments just to make myself feel better.
But even having that firm conviction and knowing that his kidney failure was chronic, I couldn't tell the veterinarian that that was my decision. Thankfully she figured it out and quickly it was over.
Nothing left to do now but grieve.
By Richie Ann Ashcraft
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Saturday we loaded the kids into the car and drove to Fruita in hopes of seeing Santa without the hassle and long line.
Fruita was having their Christmas celebration and Parade of Lights. It included a free Santa in exchange for canned food. I really like the idea of Santa for charity and was happy to make the short drive. I figured it could go either way...he could smile happily or he could cry. Either way was just fine by me.
Here's what he did:
It is an odd tradition that parents bundle up their children to get a pic of them with a man in red suit. No wonder they are scared. What other time of the year would we just plunk our kids down on some strangely dressed man's lap, laugh as they cry, then take their picture? It's weird and they know it.
are pics of other kids crying on Santa's lap. It shouldn't be so funny this annual holiday torture but somehow it brings sick joy to parents around the world.
As always we'd love to see your kids with Santa. Email pics to Robin Dearing and we'll post them daily.
By Robin Dearing
Monday, December 11, 2006
I remember being asked, "And they didn't have a phone?" more than once by my parents while I was a teenager.
That question is pretty much obsolete. Now the question goes, "And you didn't have your phone with you?" Which is a trick question because now cell phones have chaperone features that allow parents to find the exact location of a cell phone.
The world of our teenagers just got a whole lot smaller.
But that's really the trend these days, smaller. Everything is smaller, phones, computers and the world, in general (just not people or cars).
With the new technology, we can stay in contact with people anywhere in the country or the world. The breadth of information available to our children is a blessing and a curse.
Margaret has been using our home computer to play educational video games online (PBSKids.org, noggin.com, etc.) since she was 3 years old.
She could open an Internet browser, go to favorites and pick the Web site she wanted even before she could read.
She knew the giant blue "e" would get her to Web. From there she could use her knowledge of the alphabet to get where she wanted to go.
Now she finds Web addresses on toy boxes, on television and on candy wrappers, which she diligently transcribes into her browser and navigates sites with little help from us.
This is great in that she can learn more about the things that interest her.
But it's scary because of all of the information out there that is not appropriate for children. She could easily stumble upon a site that contains images that could shatter her cocoon of innocence.
We do what we can to protect her but watching what she does and where she goes on the Web, but it never feels like enough.
I guess that is the moral behind the story of parenting; it never feels like you can do enough.
By Richie Ann Ashcraft
Friday, December 8, 2006
Soren and I made the trek across the desert to see my parents and grandma last weekend. Although it's only a four hour trip, I'm ashamed to say we don't make it often enough.
Soren is a great little traveler. He slept a good long stretch before needing a break. We stopped at a small town dive for lunch where he ate some burger and fries plus applesauce that I had stuffed in my purse. That's right...I carry emergency applesauce in my purse now.
I really enjoyed having lunch with him. I found myself wanting to whisk him off to spend some time together.
He's suffering from a bit of seperation anxiety at the moment. It took him awhile to warm up to his grandparents and great grandma (G.G.). It perhaps hurt their feelings initially but it was short lived.
He showed off his new stepping skills, danced to his Rock-with-Elmo radio, and played games with them. His grandparents showed him off to anyone willing to gush over him.
His G.G. tickled his belly while making this tttsss ttsss sound. I do that to him all the time and until that moment I had no idea why I do it that way. I realized it is because that is the way she tickled me.
It's funny how I find myself drawing from my own childhood experiences as a parent. I understand now the desire to share some of my childhood memories with Soren by recreating some of my favorite moments.
I watched with embarrassment as Soren pulled the lid off his snacks with his teeth and then dumped the entire contents on G.G.'s floor. Then he stuffed some contaminated morsels in his mouth. She just laughed. Had that been me as a little girl I would have been in trouble.
Poor baby barely had time for a nap with all the visiting and playing that needed to get done. Everyone was sorry to see him go.
I stopped again for a break and just a little bit more quality time. Did you ever notice that fast food is not for babies? I mean what can a baby eat at McDonald's? We opted for Wendy's chili since my purse was all out of applesauce.
I let Soren chew crackers, play with straws, and dump the salt. When I left I tried to clean the booth up as best I could when I realized that "Oh My God! I am one of those people with KIDS!" The ones who leave huge messes for others to clean up in fast food establishments. When did that happen?
On the way home I contemplated what one family friend had said to me. "May God let you borrow him a very long time." Isn't that true of grandparents and parents as well?
By Robin Dearing
Thursday, December 7, 2006
And she did have a bloody nose last night.
Notice how she used my red editing pen (she came to work with me this morning before school) to draw in the blood trickle coming out of her nose.
She loves my red editing pen and has been obsessed with the ink's similarity to blood for a couple of years now.
Here's a picture she drew when she was 4. When she was done drawing these little creatures, she happily announced that they were blood cats.
Then she went into a tirade about how my red pen was full of blood.
Now that I think about it, all her drawings that I keep on my desk border on the macabre.
Look at this one:
It's my dear, first-grader's interpretation of a scene from the TV show, "The Office"
where one of the characters burns his foot on a George Foreman grill.
And, of course, I can't forget the time that Margaret told my Haute Mama cohort, Lynn, about when her grandfather fell against their wood stove and "blood and steam came out." (She wasn't there when this occurred. She overheard the story and added the "blood and steam" part herself.)
It's all starting to make me wonder if she's got some kind of proclivity for blood. If so, I hope she ends up as a phlebotomist and not one of those pale pseudo vampire people who dress in black all the time.
By Richie Ann Ashcraft
Wednesday, December 6, 2006
"That's not how it goes," said my sister-in-law.
"Paddy Cake. It goes: Mark it with an S for Soren and me!" said as she pats his little hands together.
"Once upon a time," I start as Soren settles down for a nap.
"There were three little pigs..."
"Who were brothers I think..."
"And then there was a wolf and the pigs needed to build some houses to keep the things out."
"So one built it out of mud. And the wolf came along and huffed and puffed and blew his house down. The pig ran to his brother's house and said 'let me in let me in' and he did."
"Then the wolf blew his house down 'cuz it was made of sticks," and they ran to the other brother's house and said "let me in let me in."
"Then the wolf huffed and puffed but couldn't blow the house down cuz it was made of bricks. So the wolf climbed the roof."
Wait, was that Little Red Riding Hood
? 'Cuz there's a wolf in that story too. There's a lot of wolves in these nursery rhymes, I think to myself.
"So the wolf climbs in the chimney but the pigs had started a fire and cooked a pig pot of soup. And the wolf fell in and got cooked! The end."
"Hey Richie..." Loverhubby asks, "How's Jack and Jill go?"
Do they have such a thing as Nursery Rhymes for Dummies
Tuesday, December 5, 2006
Alex has been waiting for snow since the final flake melted last spring.
Like a true Coloradoan, he’s been on the slopes since he was four years-old. He started on skis and did the edgie-wedgie thing with other babes in bibs while his Haute Mama braved the blue runs in a women’s ski class.
At the age of seven he moved onto snowboarding and hasn’t looked back. One beautiful sunny day about four years ago, I drove up to Powderhorn with Alex and a couple of his fellow boarders. By late afternoon I was feeling good and my turns were looking even better.
“Hey Al, let’s do Snow Cloud and then call it a day.”
“Mom, you know it’s a black run.”
Duh. I’ve skied Equalizer with the best of them. It’s a black run too. Besides - and here are the words that never should have escaped my lips – “If YOU can do it, so can I.”
So down we go, Alex, his two buddies and The Mom. Let me just say that Alex has his own version of this story, but mine is true.
First turn, no problem. I’m in front of them and look back. They seem to be doing OK. I negotiate the first mogul and think those ski lessons were worth every penny! I glance back at the kids and they are struggling to keep up with me, but look like they’ll make it. Second mogul coming up and I look back to check on them.
Now here’s something they failed to tell us in the lessons – never, NEVER, look back over your shoulder when a big-ass mogul is in front of you.
The sound I heard next is one I’ve heard a couple other times in my life. It’s enough to make you lose your lunch. The sound of cartilage twisting and snapping and tearing and popping. It’s not a pretty sound, and it has always been accompanied by a string of obscenities and considerable pain.
That moment was no different.
I sank at an awkward angle down into the snow and had two thoughts.
“How am I going to get off this mountain? And how am I going to drive these kids home?”
OK, I had a third thought too. “Geez, I hope nobody saw that.”
Alex and his buds caught up to me. He seemed genuinely concerned.
“Hey Mom, can we go get the ski patrol? They’ll let us ride back up on the snow cat!”
“No son, I can walk down.” Delirium had already set in.
I tried to stand and realized that was not gonna happen. “OK, fine go get them. But take Kyle with you in case you get hurt.” Ha! I was still the lead dog and in charge of the youngsters.
Long story short, the poor guys on the ski patrol hauled my now-frozen butt all the way back down the mountain in the toboggan. They had no problem with the moguls and even laughed and joked as they gasped for breath. After a check for broken bones they set me free and I did manage to drive all the kids home safely. And yes, they loved the ride on the snow cat.
The moral of the story is, when you’re in your 4th decade of life, think twice before you try to keep up with kids who are barely out of their first. You don’t heal as fast, and you fall farther.
People tell me that Alex is a pretty darn good boarder. I wouldn’t know since I haven’t been on the same runs with him since that fateful day. He does runs with scary names like Death Wish and Bone Yard and Psycho Boy and Not For Yo’ Momma. He goes places that I would rather not know about. Am I concerned for his safety? You betcha. Do I trust his judgment? Umm, yeah, right up until he does something that gets him hurt or hurts someone else.
So each time he gets in the lift line, I implore his guardian angels to stay with him. He’s worn out more than a few in his lifetime but they’re doing a good job keeping up with him. Let’s just hope they don’t look back over their shoulder and that they negotiate mogul fields far better than me.
P.S. When the slopes open this weekend, I’ll be basking in the sun in Maui. I’ll skip the surfing.