Nathan is starting to communicate in lots of ways. Jen and I have both seen him deliberately put his arms up when he wants to be picked up. We both are working at teaching him how to say, "Uppy". Actually, I usually tell him to say, "Pick me up, Nana." But that's the English teacher in me that compels me to do that. I love the cute things little kids say, but I have to teach them the right way to say it.
I took Nathan for a walk in his stroller today. It was 53 degrees and sunny. We only walked around the block - which takes about 7 minutes. But still. We were outside, he was in his stroller, and I was happy about it.
Even though it was that warm today, there was still some snow on the ground. There was some across the sidewalk in several places. Blue sky, warm air, and slushy sidewalks.
Nathan's stroller is his car seat that fits onto a base. We put him in it reclined, which is great for tiny babies. There is a hood at both ends that goes up over the baby to block wind or rain or sun if necessary. But the seat can be turned around so he can sit up and see where we are going. We will try that configuration next time.
Today he could see some toys dangling over his head, and he could see me, but that's about it. He was happy enough most of the time, but was getting squirmy and starting to fuss by the time we got back to the house. I'm hoping the next time it is warm enough for us to get out, he likes it better. I think he will if he can see where we are going.
Just in going around the one block, I saw a park with a playground. Sweet! I can imagine him, in a year or two, asking me to take him to the park. That will be fun.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Breast milk and prune juice...
Breast fed babies don't get constipated, I have been told. Infrequent stools does not necessarily mean constipation.
Last week, on Thursday, Ben mentioned that Nathan had not had a messy diaper since the previous weekend. He acted fine and was taking his bottle or nursing just fine, but no pooping. Ben wanted to know if I was sure that he had not pooped on Tuesday. I was sure. I notice that kind of thing.
So he talked to Jen on the phone, and she called the doc, just to see if there was something we should be doing. The first nurse or whoever she talked to told her not to worry, babies can frequently go five days between stools. She recommended that we get some prune juice, and put some in his bottle with the breast milk. Which made my eyebrows go up and my stomach clench.
When my three were little, the boys never had this problem. Becca sometimes did, but I think she was older than Nathan is when it started. We used suppositories - special ones for babies - which worked very well and within a very short time. I suggested to Ben that I could go out and get some. He didn't like that idea at all.
Now, I have to say right here that things have really changed since my kids were little. Doctors give parents very different advice now than they gave when I was having babies. Then, the recommendation was to put babies to sleep on their stomachs so they didn't accidentally aspirate in case they spit up while they were sleeping. Now all babies are supposed to be put down on their backs. It helps prevent SIDS. The wonderful walkers we had - little chair-and-table vehicles on wheels that helped keep kids confined and also helped them learn to walk - are no longer on the market. Too dangerous. High chairs now have five-point straps to tie kids in, and cribs have to have slats a specified distance apart. Car seats are mandated by law now. It's a wonder as many of us grew up as healthy as we did, since we didn't have all these safety rules in place.
Anyway, I want to do things to help Jen and Ben, and I do not want to dictate to them about what they should do. They love this baby as much as I loved mine, and they are getting the best and latest advice available. So I didn't push the suppository idea.
I went to WalMart and got some prune juice for Nathan. I probably should have looked in the infant department - I probably could have bought a small one-serving size bottle - but I didn't think of that. I bought a 48 ounce bottle of prune juice.
So when Nathan woke up from his nap, Ben and I talked about how to give him the juice. (I guess I should mention that Ben works at home in his office in the basement. So I am taking care of the baby, but most days Ben is there, working, downstairs.) We were supposed to add 1/2 teaspoon to his milk. We both wondered if he would take it willingly. This little 5 month old has had only breast milk and for the past several weeks, some rice cereal. Prune juice was going to be a shock. I was afraid if I added it to the full bottle, and he hated the taste, he might refuse to drink it. Then I would have wasted 6 ounces of breast milk, which Jen pumps and leaves for me to give him when she is at work. Ben agreed, so we got out an extra bottle, and put just 2 ounces of the milk in it, and added the juice to that. It looked strangely brown.
We both expected a strong reaction. Ben got out the camera, anticipating strange facial expressions. He was ready to document the drama. Nathan chugged down the brownish liquid as if it was what he was used to. We were amazed. Then he chugged the remaining 4 ounces of milk just as quickly. He was obviously hungry.
Now, let me emphasize, that for most of this time, Nathan has acted just fine. He was a bit cranky on Tuesday, not fussy but complaining rather than cooing. And his afternoon nap was only 45 minutes that day. But he has been happy and smiling and not distressed.
Nothing happened after the prune juice on Thursday. So on Friday, Ben and Jen conferred, and decided that I should give him more in his first bottle. I decided to just add it to the entire bottle, since he didn't seem to notice or object to the taste of the juice. I found some measuring spoons, used the one that had 1/2 on it, but noticed that the milk seemed as brown as it had the day before, when we had just put the juice in 2 ounces of milk. I wondered about it momentarily. He took it willingly and happily. Again, nothing happened.
On Friday after work Tom came to Ben's house, which he has been doing so he can spend some time with Nathan too. Jen was still concerned about the baby, and thought they might have to take him to see the doctor. She called the office, and spoke to someone who told her that babies can go up to 12 days without having a bowel movement, and as long as he was acting ok and eating ok, not to worry. She was also told that a warm bath, bicycling exercises with the baby's legs, prune juice, the insertion of an anal thermometer and suppositories could all be used if Nathan started to act distressed. He did not act distressed.
I came home Friday night, convinced that he would poop over the weekend.
Over the weekend I taked to my sister-in-law, Margie, who raised 3 kids of her own. I was telling her about our concerns. She said to put him into a snowsuit, and take him for a ride in the car. Her kids, she said, always exploded in their pants in the car, in the snowsuit, when they were ten or more miles away from home! We laughed.
Jen was home yesterday, Monday, since it was President's Day. Nathan did not have a messy diaper all weekend, or yesterday either.
Ben showed me this morning that I had used a measuring spoon that was actually 1/2 tablespoon, which is why the milk had looked so brown to me on Friday. It obviously hadn't hurt Nathan that I had given him 1/2 tablespoon rather than 1/2 teaspoon, but it hadn't helped either!
So, at Ben's suggestion, I gave him 1/2 teaspoon of juice in his milk again this morning. Again, he took it just fine. He doesn't even seem to notice! It still makes my stomach clench, but that's my problem, not his.
This afternoon, I put him down for his nap. He usually sleeps between 1 1/2 to 2 hours for me, but today he slept over 3 hours. I even asked Ben if he thought I should wake him. He said no, and Nathan woke up a little while after that. No explosion, no leaking out of the diaper and all over everything. But Nathan did have a really stinky, very soft load in his diaper. No distress. In fact, he seemed very mellow and pleased with himself.
Which proves that healthy breast-fed babies can, indeed, go for many days without having a bowel movement. Nathan never was bothered or concerned about any of this. Just the adults were. I guess I'll bring the prune juice home with me on Thursday. Ben and Jen won't drink it. Tom and I will. But NOT mixed in milk.
Last week, on Thursday, Ben mentioned that Nathan had not had a messy diaper since the previous weekend. He acted fine and was taking his bottle or nursing just fine, but no pooping. Ben wanted to know if I was sure that he had not pooped on Tuesday. I was sure. I notice that kind of thing.
So he talked to Jen on the phone, and she called the doc, just to see if there was something we should be doing. The first nurse or whoever she talked to told her not to worry, babies can frequently go five days between stools. She recommended that we get some prune juice, and put some in his bottle with the breast milk. Which made my eyebrows go up and my stomach clench.
When my three were little, the boys never had this problem. Becca sometimes did, but I think she was older than Nathan is when it started. We used suppositories - special ones for babies - which worked very well and within a very short time. I suggested to Ben that I could go out and get some. He didn't like that idea at all.
Now, I have to say right here that things have really changed since my kids were little. Doctors give parents very different advice now than they gave when I was having babies. Then, the recommendation was to put babies to sleep on their stomachs so they didn't accidentally aspirate in case they spit up while they were sleeping. Now all babies are supposed to be put down on their backs. It helps prevent SIDS. The wonderful walkers we had - little chair-and-table vehicles on wheels that helped keep kids confined and also helped them learn to walk - are no longer on the market. Too dangerous. High chairs now have five-point straps to tie kids in, and cribs have to have slats a specified distance apart. Car seats are mandated by law now. It's a wonder as many of us grew up as healthy as we did, since we didn't have all these safety rules in place.
Anyway, I want to do things to help Jen and Ben, and I do not want to dictate to them about what they should do. They love this baby as much as I loved mine, and they are getting the best and latest advice available. So I didn't push the suppository idea.
I went to WalMart and got some prune juice for Nathan. I probably should have looked in the infant department - I probably could have bought a small one-serving size bottle - but I didn't think of that. I bought a 48 ounce bottle of prune juice.
So when Nathan woke up from his nap, Ben and I talked about how to give him the juice. (I guess I should mention that Ben works at home in his office in the basement. So I am taking care of the baby, but most days Ben is there, working, downstairs.) We were supposed to add 1/2 teaspoon to his milk. We both wondered if he would take it willingly. This little 5 month old has had only breast milk and for the past several weeks, some rice cereal. Prune juice was going to be a shock. I was afraid if I added it to the full bottle, and he hated the taste, he might refuse to drink it. Then I would have wasted 6 ounces of breast milk, which Jen pumps and leaves for me to give him when she is at work. Ben agreed, so we got out an extra bottle, and put just 2 ounces of the milk in it, and added the juice to that. It looked strangely brown.
We both expected a strong reaction. Ben got out the camera, anticipating strange facial expressions. He was ready to document the drama. Nathan chugged down the brownish liquid as if it was what he was used to. We were amazed. Then he chugged the remaining 4 ounces of milk just as quickly. He was obviously hungry.
Now, let me emphasize, that for most of this time, Nathan has acted just fine. He was a bit cranky on Tuesday, not fussy but complaining rather than cooing. And his afternoon nap was only 45 minutes that day. But he has been happy and smiling and not distressed.
Nothing happened after the prune juice on Thursday. So on Friday, Ben and Jen conferred, and decided that I should give him more in his first bottle. I decided to just add it to the entire bottle, since he didn't seem to notice or object to the taste of the juice. I found some measuring spoons, used the one that had 1/2 on it, but noticed that the milk seemed as brown as it had the day before, when we had just put the juice in 2 ounces of milk. I wondered about it momentarily. He took it willingly and happily. Again, nothing happened.
On Friday after work Tom came to Ben's house, which he has been doing so he can spend some time with Nathan too. Jen was still concerned about the baby, and thought they might have to take him to see the doctor. She called the office, and spoke to someone who told her that babies can go up to 12 days without having a bowel movement, and as long as he was acting ok and eating ok, not to worry. She was also told that a warm bath, bicycling exercises with the baby's legs, prune juice, the insertion of an anal thermometer and suppositories could all be used if Nathan started to act distressed. He did not act distressed.
I came home Friday night, convinced that he would poop over the weekend.
Over the weekend I taked to my sister-in-law, Margie, who raised 3 kids of her own. I was telling her about our concerns. She said to put him into a snowsuit, and take him for a ride in the car. Her kids, she said, always exploded in their pants in the car, in the snowsuit, when they were ten or more miles away from home! We laughed.
Jen was home yesterday, Monday, since it was President's Day. Nathan did not have a messy diaper all weekend, or yesterday either.
Ben showed me this morning that I had used a measuring spoon that was actually 1/2 tablespoon, which is why the milk had looked so brown to me on Friday. It obviously hadn't hurt Nathan that I had given him 1/2 tablespoon rather than 1/2 teaspoon, but it hadn't helped either!
So, at Ben's suggestion, I gave him 1/2 teaspoon of juice in his milk again this morning. Again, he took it just fine. He doesn't even seem to notice! It still makes my stomach clench, but that's my problem, not his.
This afternoon, I put him down for his nap. He usually sleeps between 1 1/2 to 2 hours for me, but today he slept over 3 hours. I even asked Ben if he thought I should wake him. He said no, and Nathan woke up a little while after that. No explosion, no leaking out of the diaper and all over everything. But Nathan did have a really stinky, very soft load in his diaper. No distress. In fact, he seemed very mellow and pleased with himself.
Which proves that healthy breast-fed babies can, indeed, go for many days without having a bowel movement. Nathan never was bothered or concerned about any of this. Just the adults were. I guess I'll bring the prune juice home with me on Thursday. Ben and Jen won't drink it. Tom and I will. But NOT mixed in milk.
Friday, February 13, 2009
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...
When Tom and I were young and in love, we used to recite Elizabeth Barrett Browning's (1806-1861) sonnet to each other. We both had it memorized. We were, like I said, young and in love, and somehow it seemed right.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
—number Forty-Three
It is Valentine's Day. I want to write about love. I love many people, and think I know something about it.
First of all, the poem:
"I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace."
Huh? I get the "depth and breadth and height part." but from "when" on, I'm not so sure what that sentence means.
I was an English teacher before I became Nathan's nanny, and I've taught the poem. I guess I should be able to explain each line. No one ever asked me what the line meant, so I just glided over it and went on. High school kids love to talk about love. So over the years I developed some ideas about what true love is.
First of all, love is definitely NOT "never having to say you're sorry." That line is from the movie "Love Story." I hated the movie, because the young heroine finds out she is dying, and then she dies. No happily ever after in that movie.
But, actually, there is not a lot of happily ever after in real life. Not that every love story ends with someone dying young. However, that head-over-heels feeling that we associate with falling in love doesn't last. It gets replaced with the mundane, everyday tedium of jobs and laundry and children, not enough sleep or arguments about money. It morphs into feeling slighted or taken for granted, cheating, divorce. Think about it. Anything you can fall into, you can usually climb out of.
So does romantic love ever last? Sure it does, but only if both people are willing to work at the relationship. Tom and I have been married for 40 years. Are we still head-over-heels in love. NO! Do we love each other? YES. Do we drive each other crazy? Often. But we stick with it, and we talk about what drives us crazy, and we keep working at the relationship. To me, it seems that romantic love survives only when both people make a decision to keep working at making the relationship last.
I used to tell the kids I taught that the problem is that we don't have enough English words to use when we talk about love. We use "love" to mean many different things.
We love our parents; we love ice cream; we love the Cubs or the Sox; we love walking on a beach. Does the word "love" mean the same thing in each of those phrases? Of course not.
Are there other words in English that mean to love? adore, idolize? (Usually used in reference to God. When people adore each other, there is an implication of the emotions being extreme or over the top.) cherish? It means to treat with affection and tenderness, to keep fondly in mind. Hmmm. Not a bad definition, but the word itself is obscure and not used much.
So when we say we love someone, what do we mean? 1) to have a deep, tender feeling of affection for someone 2) to have an intense emotional attachment to. This, I think, is romantic love.
In my experience, romantic love is often temporary because people change and stuff happens. But you know what. I never knew what the word love really meant until I had my kids.
I love my kids in ways that are hard to explain. They can frustrate and disappoint me, but that would never make me stop loving them. I love them with a fierceness that is scary sometimes, because it is so strong. I would do anything for them. I wish I could protect them from pain and fear and disappointment. I wish I could keep them healthy and safe and happy all the time. But of course, I cannot do anything except wish for those things.
I guess now the difference between falling in love with someone and loving our kids is based on the fact that the first is a mutual experience shared with another adult. With our children, who come to us as helplessly, totally dependent babies, it is very different. For me, it was as if the birth of each child was accompanied by a corresponding birth of this huge, encompassing love that arrived when the child arrived. I didn't have to take it from somewhere - it just spontaneously grew in my heart.
In fact, when Ben was three and I was expecting Becca, I loved him so intensely that I was afraid that the new baby would somehow be short changed. I feared that I didn't have any love left over for a new baby. But she arrived, and from the first minute I held her, I loved her as intensely and completely as I loved him, and loving her didn't affect my loving him at all. They each had their own endless supply that originated somewhere in the bottom of my soul. As people, even as baby people, they were different, and I loved them differently because I loved their uniqueness, but I loved them both completely. Then Seth came along, and it was the same with him. Maybe my capacity to love grew. I'm not sure. What I am sure of is that I love all three of them with my whole heart, and loving each of them in no way diminishes my loving the other two.
Loving them has nothing to do with loving Tom either. Their births increased my love for him somehow, even though I had loved him completely before any of them were born. I know that is true, even though I know it sounds contradictory. It's the miracle of parenting, I guess.
And now there is Nathan. I knew I would love any child that Ben and Jen had, but I didn't know I would love him THIS much! I love him every bit as much as I loved my own kids, but differently somehow. He is not my responsibility the same way they were. Somehow I feel more free to just admire and enjoy him. Grandparent love is different than parental love.
I've written all that, but the words are not adequate.
"To love deeply in one direction makes us more loving in all others." (Anne-Sophie Swetchine ) Maybe that's what I'm trying to say...
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
—number Forty-Three
It is Valentine's Day. I want to write about love. I love many people, and think I know something about it.
First of all, the poem:
"I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace."
Huh? I get the "depth and breadth and height part." but from "when" on, I'm not so sure what that sentence means.
I was an English teacher before I became Nathan's nanny, and I've taught the poem. I guess I should be able to explain each line. No one ever asked me what the line meant, so I just glided over it and went on. High school kids love to talk about love. So over the years I developed some ideas about what true love is.
First of all, love is definitely NOT "never having to say you're sorry." That line is from the movie "Love Story." I hated the movie, because the young heroine finds out she is dying, and then she dies. No happily ever after in that movie.
But, actually, there is not a lot of happily ever after in real life. Not that every love story ends with someone dying young. However, that head-over-heels feeling that we associate with falling in love doesn't last. It gets replaced with the mundane, everyday tedium of jobs and laundry and children, not enough sleep or arguments about money. It morphs into feeling slighted or taken for granted, cheating, divorce. Think about it. Anything you can fall into, you can usually climb out of.
So does romantic love ever last? Sure it does, but only if both people are willing to work at the relationship. Tom and I have been married for 40 years. Are we still head-over-heels in love. NO! Do we love each other? YES. Do we drive each other crazy? Often. But we stick with it, and we talk about what drives us crazy, and we keep working at the relationship. To me, it seems that romantic love survives only when both people make a decision to keep working at making the relationship last.
I used to tell the kids I taught that the problem is that we don't have enough English words to use when we talk about love. We use "love" to mean many different things.
We love our parents; we love ice cream; we love the Cubs or the Sox; we love walking on a beach. Does the word "love" mean the same thing in each of those phrases? Of course not.
Are there other words in English that mean to love? adore, idolize? (Usually used in reference to God. When people adore each other, there is an implication of the emotions being extreme or over the top.) cherish? It means to treat with affection and tenderness, to keep fondly in mind. Hmmm. Not a bad definition, but the word itself is obscure and not used much.
So when we say we love someone, what do we mean? 1) to have a deep, tender feeling of affection for someone 2) to have an intense emotional attachment to. This, I think, is romantic love.
In my experience, romantic love is often temporary because people change and stuff happens. But you know what. I never knew what the word love really meant until I had my kids.
I love my kids in ways that are hard to explain. They can frustrate and disappoint me, but that would never make me stop loving them. I love them with a fierceness that is scary sometimes, because it is so strong. I would do anything for them. I wish I could protect them from pain and fear and disappointment. I wish I could keep them healthy and safe and happy all the time. But of course, I cannot do anything except wish for those things.
I guess now the difference between falling in love with someone and loving our kids is based on the fact that the first is a mutual experience shared with another adult. With our children, who come to us as helplessly, totally dependent babies, it is very different. For me, it was as if the birth of each child was accompanied by a corresponding birth of this huge, encompassing love that arrived when the child arrived. I didn't have to take it from somewhere - it just spontaneously grew in my heart.
In fact, when Ben was three and I was expecting Becca, I loved him so intensely that I was afraid that the new baby would somehow be short changed. I feared that I didn't have any love left over for a new baby. But she arrived, and from the first minute I held her, I loved her as intensely and completely as I loved him, and loving her didn't affect my loving him at all. They each had their own endless supply that originated somewhere in the bottom of my soul. As people, even as baby people, they were different, and I loved them differently because I loved their uniqueness, but I loved them both completely. Then Seth came along, and it was the same with him. Maybe my capacity to love grew. I'm not sure. What I am sure of is that I love all three of them with my whole heart, and loving each of them in no way diminishes my loving the other two.
Loving them has nothing to do with loving Tom either. Their births increased my love for him somehow, even though I had loved him completely before any of them were born. I know that is true, even though I know it sounds contradictory. It's the miracle of parenting, I guess.
And now there is Nathan. I knew I would love any child that Ben and Jen had, but I didn't know I would love him THIS much! I love him every bit as much as I loved my own kids, but differently somehow. He is not my responsibility the same way they were. Somehow I feel more free to just admire and enjoy him. Grandparent love is different than parental love.
I've written all that, but the words are not adequate.
"To love deeply in one direction makes us more loving in all others." (Anne-Sophie Swetchine ) Maybe that's what I'm trying to say...
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