Sometimes I Hate People

Over the weekend, I was saddened, but not terribly surprised, to hear that the body of Jessie Davis was found. Here in Ohio, we had been following the news reports of her disappearance from the very beginning. When they first reported it, I had a bad feeling, and knew that she was most likely dead. I’m so sad for her family, for her son, and for the little girl who was so close to being born but never got the chance.

Do you know the top cause of death for pregnant women? You’d think it would be some medical condition, but the truth is homicide is the #1 cause of death. Most often it’s the father of the baby who is the killer, too. Scary, isn’t it?

I only hope the police have enough evidence to make this a slam-dunk case and get the justice that Jessie and her child deserve. If the father of the baby killed her, he deserves everything the courts can throw at him.

***************

In other news, I then found this website today. WTF? These people are supposedly trying to get donations to pay for their baby or they are threatening to abort it.

I’ve seen a lot of Internet scams, but this one is pretty pathetic. They are supposedly well educated, but clearly incapable of getting a job. If there even is a real child, then they can get jobs and pay for the baby. Lots of people raise kids without anonymously begging the Internet for $50,000. Sure, it might mean, oh….working hard… but you do what needs to be done.

I only hope that the donation ticker is false and people aren’t seriously falling for this.



Being A Big Kid Is Too Hard


I think she’s done with this “big kid” stuff and ready to go back to being a baby. It’s too bad she doesn’t exactly fit in the baby car seat anymore.

(And please excuse the disaster behind her in the picture.)



Just Another Day

I woke up this morning with a baby attached to my breast, asleep next to me in bed, just like every morning this week. I slowly got up, trying not to wake her, got dressed, then carefully carried her downstairs.

“Happy birthday,” Aaron said to me as I walked into the living room.

Then it hit me. “Oh yeah, it is my birthday, isn’t it?”

“Did you forget?”

“Yeah.”

I guess after you hit 30, birthdays don’t register as much anymore. Or maybe it’s because I have a newborn, and therefore every day feels like the same day over again right now.

So yeah, today is my birthday. I’m 31. Feels a lot like 30.



First Day

I haven’t mentioned it much here, but a few weeks ago we enrolled Cordy in a daycare/preschool program for the summer. It’ll be good for her, and I need the time with only one child around. Today was her first day of school.

Cordy needed this, too. While she is an intelligent little girl, perhaps even advanced for her age, she is lacking in social skills and emotional maturity. I put some of the blame on myself for not taking more initiative in getting her out to play with other kids more often. But it’s more than that – she’s always been a loner, interested in her own world more than getting to know others.

I have actually considered having Cordy evaluated for developmental delays, but haven’t been able to fully commit to that decision. Every time I start to think she may have something wrong, she will suddenly prove me wrong. At the very least, she needs to improve in a few areas. She has trouble following another child’s suggestion of play. She lacks some basic skills, like using eating utensils or drinking out of a cup. Her speech is very good, but much of the time she’s only parroting back things she’s heard on TV. She can carry on both sides of a conversation between Dora and Boots, but can’t answer you if you ask her if she had fun today. (She will often answer any question by repeating the last word you said.)

This particular preschool has Aaron’s aunt as one of the administrators, so we know Cordy will be closely watched. And his aunt has told me that she will let us know if she thinks Cordy might have any developmental problems needing intervention. Cordy will be attending two days a week in the 2 year old room.

Today being her first day, we tried to explain what fun she was going to have, but she didn’t seem to comprehend what was coming. Here she was before we left:


We were dreading the drop-off, thinking that Cordy would freak out when we tried to leave. She was hesitant to come into the room, but the teachers took the other kids outside so she could adjust to the room on her own, and she was soon exploring the layout. Then she saw the classroom fish tank, and suddenly she was right at home. “Fish!” she exclaimed. The remaining teacher offered to let her feed the fish, and she was in heaven.

I gave her a hug, telling her I was leaving, and fully expected her to cry. But instead she hugged me and said, “Look! Fish!” “Yes, I see the fish. I’m leaving now, enjoy the fish.” And she didn’t care at all that I left.

“That was too easy,” I told Aaron as we left.

I knew it couldn’t stay that easy. You know how many people give teachers a gift at the end of the year? I wondered if we should have brought gifts for the teachers today. A gift for you, for the enormous task you are about to undertake…

I called later in the day to find out how she was doing. The teacher started out by saying, “She’s a child who prefers to do things her own way, isn’t she?” Oh hell. “Yes, yes she is,” I replied.

Turns out it was a rough morning. Cordy did very well playing outside on the playground and during swimtime, but transitions were tough. She also had trouble staying in her seat at snacktime, but then again, she’s never had to do that before. She refused to eat because she wouldn’t use a spoon or fork – they did give in and feed her a little to make sure she ate a little. She also refused to drink from her sippy at snacktime because it had water in it. Lunchtime was better, though, so hopefully she will learn quickly.

Naptime was also a little difficult because she won’t nap if others are in the room with her. Keeping her on her cot was a challenge at first, but they said she eventually complied, although she talked to herself the entire time, sometimes too loudly.

They said during free play in the classroom, she chose not to play with the other kids, but instead roam the room on her own. They’ll keep an eye on this to see if it continues, or if she’ll eventually want to play with the other kids.

There was good news, too. In the afternoon she listened to her teachers better than the morning. She handled diaper changes well. They also said she’s very smart, identifying colors and numbers and some letters. The teacher I spoke with said that for a first day, she did pretty well.

Aaron and I picked her up around 4pm. When she saw me, she jumped up out of her chair, saying “Mommy! You found me!” Then she saw Aaron and went back and forth between us, saying “Mommy! Daddy! Mommy! Daddy!” She quickly walked over to her backpack, indicating that she wanted us to get her out of there as fast as possible.

She looked a little rougher at the end of the day. More bruises on her legs, a scrape on her knee, and red, tired looking eyes. But she was happy.

Friday will probably be tougher for her. She’ll know we’re leaving her again, so drop-off may involve tears that the fish tank can’t prevent. But I think this will be a good experience for her, learning to interact in a group setting, being around kids her own age, and learning to follow rules other than our own. I hope that her social skills will blossom and any fears I have of something being wrong will vanish. And if that’s not possible, I hope this will be a good first step towards getting her what she needs to catch up to her peers.



Sleepless Nights (Not The Baby)

While Mira does seem to have colic, at least she’s sleeping her long stretches at night. She generally gives us a three or four hour stretch starting at midnight, and then wake again a couple of hours later and nurse on and off in bed until 8am. (The good news – I seem to have enough milk for her now.)

This makes me very happy, because I’ve never been one to handle sleep deprivation well. If I’m ever interrogated by the government or terrorists, they will be able to break me after one night of no sleep. While Aaron often lives on only five hours of sleep a night, I prefer eight hours to function at peak performance. Of course, I have a newborn, so I’m lucky to get five or six hours, but that’s generally enough to keep me upright, if a little fuzzy headed.

So you can imagine how I feel when I tell you that last night I got about an hour of sleep all night. And that wasn’t a consecutive hour, either. Baby crying? Nope. Toddler with nightmares? Nope. Loud block party? Nope.

It was the damn smoke detectors.

I swear these things are possessed. I’ve written about them before and the torture they’ve caused. The detectors never have any problems during the day. They sit and wait until nighttime, when everyone is sleeping, to sound off and drive us insane.

But earlier episodes were nothing like last night. Because it wasn’t the low-battery chirping sound keeping us awake. It was the alarm going off full-blast for 5-10 seconds, at random intervals ranging from 5 minutes to one hour. All. Night. Long.

The first alarm had me jumping out of bed, startled and confused and worried. I wondered if something was overheating in the house, so I conducted a top to bottom search, checking each room and sniffing for any hint of smoke or anything burning. Satisfied that there was no fire, I went back to bed, only to be jolted awake by another alarm a few minutes after I fell asleep.

Cordy slept through the first few alarms. But it couldn’t last forever, and soon we heard the soft cries coming over the monitor. Aaron went into her room to comfort her and get her back to sleep, while I got dressed and left the house at 3am to find batteries, hoping that it was a battery problem.

Finding batteries at 3am is not easy. I first went to a gas station, only to be told they were “temporarily closed”. So I drove a little more to the grocery store, but found they closed at 1am. Bastards. I drove a little further to my last chance: Wal-Mart. Folks, you think Wal-Mart is scary during the day? You should see it at 3am. I’ve never seen so many people with missing teeth in one place.

Batteries in hand, I returned home to find a crying Mira. I fed her while Aaron changed batteries. We thought that would be the end of things, but close to 4am the alarm sounded again. Taking the batteries out completely wouldn’t silence them – the smoke detectors are interconnected in the electrical system, and the batteries are just a backup. So we went to the source of the problem, and shut off the circuit. This left the batteries still in, so the alarms continued off and on through the morning.

Today, drunk on a lack of sleep, I stumbled around the house slowly removing batteries from each detector, waiting to see if that particular round plastic demon was the faulty one. Each time the alarm shrieked, Cordy dove onto the couch and pulled pillows and blankets over her head to hide from it. To make the day worse, Mira was awake and crying much of the afternoon as well, so there was no rest to be had.

The alarms are now silenced, only because we have turned off the circuit and pulled all the batteries out. Tomorrow I’ll be looking for a fire alarm repair company to come out and fix the problem. I may ask them to completely replace the damn detectors just to end having their beady little green LED lights staring at me, waiting to attack again.

In the meantime, I hope Mira sleeps well tonight, because mommy needs sleep.

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