Chewbacca

Miss Bundle is chewing on everything these days. Nothing is safe from her reaches. And while she doesn’t “properly” crawl, instead swimming across the floor at amazing rates, she has a vast range and gets into everything. Her favorite is paper at the moment. Newspapers, Daddy’s homework, Brother’s art, anything. Straight into the mouth. Chomp chomp.

This has led to the introduction of foodstuffs that maybe would have waited a bit longer. Ronnie still doesn’t have teeth so I don’t have to worry about her actually biting off bits and choking, which makes it easier. I figure if she wants to gnaw on something, a carrot has got to be better than a nasty, germ covered whatever. I’m sure that contributes to the fact she’s currently got a cold with a truly dreadful sounding cough. Our favorite thing to give her right now is a pickle spear. First of all, she makes a funny face as the vinegar hits her tongue. But then she’ll suck out the pickle juice just like she’s drinking a bottle, leaving not much more than just the rind when she’s finally done with it.

I did dig up one of Kirk’s old pacifiers for her to chew on. She hasn’t been interested in using one before, instead thinking that Mama ought to provide a boobie whenever she wants, but as a chomping object it seems to be doing the trick. I wonder how long before she actually cuts a tooth? I can’t remember how long it was for Kirk and besides, every kid is different.

Man of Steel

Kirk is all about Superman right now. Mr. b got the idea into his head that he’d enjoy the original 1978 Superman. Which he most definitely did. So we’ve been slowly Netflixing them all, and some Justice Leagues thrown in for good measure, just watching Superman III this weekend. Kirk is dead set on being Superman for Halloween and has already scoped out the costumes at Target. But I won’t even consider buying one until it’s at least October. Which means that everyday Kirk has asked, “Is it still September? Is next day October? Then I’m gonna get my Superman costume!” (Complete with fist pump into the air.) Yeah, like I’m running down there on the First to buy it for him.

Mr. b, being the genius/sucker that he is, figured we could buy some time if we got Kirk some Superman pajamas. Obviously Kirk was totally down with that idea. And honestly, he needs new jammies anyways. While we were picking them out last night we also checked the DVD aisle. Because Daddy remembered seeing a special DVD set of all 4 movies for a mere $9.99 and sure enough, we went ahead and bought that, too. Supergirl is coming next from Netflix.

Clearly some Superman had to be watched before bed, while wearing brand new pjs. Kirk wanted to see “baby Superman, his hair is so funny” so the first movie it was. During which time he announced to us that “Jor-El is a really great name for a daddy. When I’m a daddy I’m gonna name my son Jor-El.” I don’t really have a problem with that. I mean, my son is named Kirk.

Karate Kid

Kirk had his very first karate class last night! It’s through the city recreation department. All the parents were sitting along the wall in the room as the 3 to 6 year olds sort of listened and sort of followed directions. Mr. b had predicted that Kirk would go all shy and cling to his legs at first. If he had put money on it, he would have won. But after not too much persuasion, Kirk got in line with the other kids and paid attention about as well as I could expect from him. Hell, I remember my first year of dance when I was 4 and we did a crap job of learning our steps and staying in formation and whatever. We had a tap dance with baby dolls. I’m sure it was precious.

Anyway, first the teacher had them warm up. They ran in a giant circle around the perimeter of the room. Hilarious. Then she had them learn how to fall. She explained to us parents that it was important for kids to know how to fall for when they get into school if they get pushed down they won’t bang their head on the pavement. Great. Basically she had them do backward and forward shoulder rolls down a padded incline, onto a mat. Then the kids got to crawl through a little canvas tunnel and get back in line. It took a few tries but we finally got Kirk to let us hold onto his glasses. He was the only glasses kid there. The final activity was a little weird. Each kid picked a color out of four options, then the teacher spread a bunch of short soccer cones out on the floor in the various colors and the kids had to go collect only their chosen color. And that was it! A half hour goes very fast.

Since Mr. b has to leave for his own class when Kirk’s gets done, I walked home with the kids. Kirk was very excited and talked about how much fun he had and what he’s going to do “next day” and how he’s “so tough”. Even though Thursday nights are my nights for choir, I think I might want to get Kirk signed up for the next session already. Mr. b can take them and I can meet them there after practice. I’m just glad that the boy didn’t fight it and seemed to genuinely enjoy himself.

Eye Cee Ewe

Kirk had another eye appointment on Friday. He was…less well behaved than the first time. The optometrist’s assistant asked if he knew letters and started out showing him letters. He named them clearly for a while and then started in with the lunatic babbling. I hate when he does that. He totally sounds like Billy Madison. It’s sort of a corollary to him acting extra weird around kids he doesn’t know well. He is so smart and well spoken at home but then when there are adults he doesn’t know well he just switches into gibberish. He thinks it’s funny of course and I just want to bash my head against the wall. So she started showing him pictures instead of letters and he was mildly more clear with his responses, but only up to a point. I honestly don’t know how she was able to glean anything from it at all.

And then it was time for the eye drops. I knew it was going to be a problem. I mean, Kirk remembered them vividly from his first appointment. His father took him to his second appointment but that was just a muscle check so no dilation necessary. I actually had to hold him arms down so she could get the drops in his eyes. It was pretty ridiculous.

The nice thing is that then you have to wait a while for the drops to take effect and that break really helped to reset Kirk’s behavior. We played in both of the waiting rooms at the clinic so he could check out the varying toys. He even made friends with a couple of other kids in for whatever check-ups that day. So by the time he was seen by the actual doctor himself, he was reasonably cooperative.

The doctor wants Kirk to see a specialist. A specialist in eye surgery. I think I did a good job of not freaking out but also not being meek. I wanted to make sure that by seeing a specialist we weren’t passively agreeing to any surgery without further discussion. As I understand it, Kirk’s got a more unusual form of the strabismus than is typical for a kid. His vision in his right eye is equal to the vision in his left eye. They are both farsighted the same amount. So when he’s wearing his glasses, the right eye is straight. However, the muscle in the right eye is still weaker so it hasn’t been corrected by the workout of wearing glasses. In this instance that means that giving him an eye patch, to force the right eye to work overtime, wouldn’t actually make a difference because his sight isn’t the issue. (I wonder if this would work? Heh.) The doctor doesn’t know if this is something that Kirk will just grow out of and that’s why he wants a second opinion. I guess that makes sense, though I’m still completely freaked by the idea of my child needing surgery. But it’ll take a while before we find out since the specialist likely won’t be able to get us in for many months. In the meantime, Kirk’s glasses prescription remains the same and no other changes need to take place so that’s good.

Cry Babies

Ronnie had her 6 month well baby check on Tuesday afternoon. Kirk actually came with! It was the first time Doc B had met him, though obviously he had heard all about him throughout my pregnancy. The up side of having Kirk with is that he’s excited about his next shots, because he wants to prove that he’s “so tough” and not cry during them. But of course he’ll forget all about that by the time next summer rolls around…

Young Miss V remains huge. She’s currently rated at 89% for height and 74% for weight. Kirk definitely didn’t hit those spots on the growth chart, staying around 50-50, like he is now. The girl got a mostly clean bill of health. However, I do need to go pick up a prescription for some cooter cream. She’s got something called a labial adhesion. Basically, the fine, thin skin of the inner labia has glued itself together. Doc said it’s really common and can happen to circumcised boys, too. I remember it happening with Kirk. Doc P just pulled the skin back, Kirk cried once, then it was fine. But that’s not the way to deal with it with girls apparently. She’s going to have an estrogen cream that we just need to apply once a day and the hormones will take care of it. Doc B said that she’s at the crossroads right now and it could separate on its own, especially since she’s such a kicky, kicky bundle. But it could also continue up to the urethra, potentially blocking up her pee and causing a bladder infection. Definitely don’t want that. So cream it is!

But speaking of Kirk and crying, man alive is he an emo kid these days. It’s both really sweet and really annoying. I’m glad he loves his cousins and his friends and his daycare ladies and his grandparents. It’s darling when he leaves someone and immediately says that he misses them, or when he announces that he misses someone he hasn’t seen in months. But when he starts bawling because I returned a Netflix disc? That makes me roll my eyes. I’m sure it’s just a phase, further developing emotions and whatnot. But part of me thinks this could be an actual part of his personality, too. His Daddy is sensitive. His Papa is totally sentimental. It’s not like it would come out of nowhere.

Epicurion Queries

There’s been a minor rash of milk related food poisoning incidents in the Midwest lately. From drinking unpasteurized milk. And I just think, who drinks that? I mean, if you aren’t a dairy farmer, how would you even have access to it? Isn’t that illegal?

But of course Veronica drinks unpasteurized milk. It’s just mama milk, not cow milk. And it’s not homogenized so it separates as it sits in the fridge, waiting to be used. It’s easy enough to recombine the milk fats with the rest of the milk. Generally just the shaking and sloshing that gets done while heating the milk up under the faucet will do the trick. But it’s got me wondering: can you make cheese or butter from breast milk?

I’m not going to try. Don’t you worry your pretty little head. Mainly because I’m way too lazy for that kind of thing. But the scientist that lives in my head is definitely curious. I mean, it’s milk. You should be able to make milk products. But then who would use them? Ronnie’s not up to cottage cheese or even yogurt yet since she’s under a year. But would those things be OK for her to have since they wouldn’t be cow milk, which as I understand is the reason you need to wait a year before switching to whole milk from breast or formula? And if you have other kids, would they be fine eating breast milk ice cream? Or is the whole thing just too squicky and overly hippie dippie freaky to even consider?

People do some freaky-ass shit with their maternal by-products. Of course there’s the whole eating the placenta deal, which while fascinating is just far too gross to even consider. I don’t care if placenta pills ward off post-partum depression. I’m not living in the wild, nursing my litter of babies in a cave for weeks on end, needing the iron richness of my placenta to provide the only nourishment I’m going to get until they’re old enough for me to leave them and go hunting again. Therefore I’m not eating my placenta. End of story.

I did remember to ask to see it this time though. I can’t remember why I didn’t after I had Kirk. I know I was worried that birthing the afterbirth would somehow hurt which…yeah right. You can’t feel that after a whole damn baby just went through there! And I don’t remember watching while Mr. b cut the cord. I still didn’t see the cord be cut this time but I did ask to see the stuff before it got sent to disposal. It was all dark and weird and organy (duh) and there was a tiny little hole in the sack the nurse pointed out which would have accounted for the slow leak that was my water breaking. The umbilical cord is sort of whitish grey. Again, interesting from a scientific perspective, but I don’t need to save it for posterity.

Frankly I was far too jittery, literally, after having Ronnie to even consider anything more than satisfying intellectual curiosity. Apparently it was the pitocin. I had the shakes big time once she was out. They put her freshly born unwashed bundleness on my chest and I held her and loved her and tried not to vibrate her off of me I was shivering so hard. It took quite a while to get back to normal.