Disney fans all around the world are in shock following Disney's announcement that a 6 year old girl has been spotted in Winnie the Pooh's Hundred Acre Wood.
You mean that's not Christopher Robin?
No, no, definitely not. This girl is described as "tomboyish" and wears a safety helmet.
Eeyore also pops Prozac and has a little spring in his step.
Pooh is on Atkins, so he's off honey, and has eaten Piglet.
New and improved, indeed.
Friday, March 9, 2007
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Hittin' the Bottle
She took a bottle on her first day of daycare.
This same sputtering, puking, crying she-devil that stalwartly refuses to take a bottle from my husband, happily took a bottle of my breastmilk from her wonderful new daytime caregiver.
Trying to get everyone used to what will be our new schedule, I dropped the baby off at her baby-sitter (a woman, incidentally, whose own daughter was my student years ago) for a half day "trial run" to see how she (read: I) would do. As I left, I joked with the woman, "She's not on a schedule, won't sleep unless you're holding her, and she won't take a bottle. Good luck." Except I wasn't joking. At all. Ha. Cough. Ha.
I made it until 10:30, when I broke down and called, expecting to hear that familiar "I refuse to take a bottle and now I'm officially starving" wail in the background, but it was completely quiet on her end.
"I hate to ask, but how is it going?"
"It's going great! She only took about 3 ounces though. Is that ok? Is that her norm?"
I almost dropped the phone. 3 ounces? Are you kidding me? Out of a bottle? I got used to freezing milk in one ounce bags, because she wouldn't choke down more than that if forced to use a bottle. We tried a shot glass (don't send me email about how this will effect her life), we tried a dropper. Nothing doing.
So as it turns out, as I've been told by others, some babies will take a bottle from anyone other than Mom or Dad. You'd think Dad would be a great choice because clearly he can't offer the same goods as Mom, but NO. Our doctor explained that some babies assume that if they're getting it from Dad, then Mom must be close by and choose to fight it out.
Of course, this is an assumption. Who knows what a 3 month old thinks. But think they do. And act. And manipulate.
I'm relieved that at least she won't be freaking out with hunger while I'm at work freaking out with maternal angst.
This same sputtering, puking, crying she-devil that stalwartly refuses to take a bottle from my husband, happily took a bottle of my breastmilk from her wonderful new daytime caregiver.
Trying to get everyone used to what will be our new schedule, I dropped the baby off at her baby-sitter (a woman, incidentally, whose own daughter was my student years ago) for a half day "trial run" to see how she (read: I) would do. As I left, I joked with the woman, "She's not on a schedule, won't sleep unless you're holding her, and she won't take a bottle. Good luck." Except I wasn't joking. At all. Ha. Cough. Ha.
I made it until 10:30, when I broke down and called, expecting to hear that familiar "I refuse to take a bottle and now I'm officially starving" wail in the background, but it was completely quiet on her end.
"I hate to ask, but how is it going?"
"It's going great! She only took about 3 ounces though. Is that ok? Is that her norm?"
I almost dropped the phone. 3 ounces? Are you kidding me? Out of a bottle? I got used to freezing milk in one ounce bags, because she wouldn't choke down more than that if forced to use a bottle. We tried a shot glass (don't send me email about how this will effect her life), we tried a dropper. Nothing doing.
So as it turns out, as I've been told by others, some babies will take a bottle from anyone other than Mom or Dad. You'd think Dad would be a great choice because clearly he can't offer the same goods as Mom, but NO. Our doctor explained that some babies assume that if they're getting it from Dad, then Mom must be close by and choose to fight it out.
Of course, this is an assumption. Who knows what a 3 month old thinks. But think they do. And act. And manipulate.
I'm relieved that at least she won't be freaking out with hunger while I'm at work freaking out with maternal angst.
Tags:
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
What is it with Michigan??
First there was the dismembered body of a Michigan wife and mother; now this.
Monday, March 5, 2007
Maybe she burned the roast
I'm completely fascinated by the disturbing dismemberment story (as if there is a cheerful dismemberment story); now the husband has confessed to killing and dismembering his young wife. The article ends with a mention of the couple's two young children, 6 & 4, and the husband's statment that he "looks forward to seeing them again as soon as possible." Most likely through a thick glass partition, is my bet.
From all accounts I've read, things seemed this side of "normal" for the couple and their family; neighbors mentioned barbeques and watching them teach the kids to ride bikes. Either this guy completely fooled everyone, or somewhere along the way, he completely snapped. I'm far more interested in WHY this happened than how he actually did it -I can watch endless episodes of CSI on Spike tv to find out how he did it.
On the complete other end of the marital dischord spectrum, my husband and I caught the last half of Shalom in the Home last night while biding our time before Battlestar Galactica last night. The couple just needed a little boost; the husband was repeating a pattern of behavior and making himself (and everyone around him) miserable. The highlight for me was seeing Rabbi Shmuley running around with balloons on his head, helping the wife and kids plan a "Welcome Home" party for the husband. Can't picture a Catholic priest doing the same, but you never know. I'm just glad they worked it out in the end; sleeping on the couch is temporary...but dismemberment lasts a lifetime.
From all accounts I've read, things seemed this side of "normal" for the couple and their family; neighbors mentioned barbeques and watching them teach the kids to ride bikes. Either this guy completely fooled everyone, or somewhere along the way, he completely snapped. I'm far more interested in WHY this happened than how he actually did it -I can watch endless episodes of CSI on Spike tv to find out how he did it.
On the complete other end of the marital dischord spectrum, my husband and I caught the last half of Shalom in the Home last night while biding our time before Battlestar Galactica last night. The couple just needed a little boost; the husband was repeating a pattern of behavior and making himself (and everyone around him) miserable. The highlight for me was seeing Rabbi Shmuley running around with balloons on his head, helping the wife and kids plan a "Welcome Home" party for the husband. Can't picture a Catholic priest doing the same, but you never know. I'm just glad they worked it out in the end; sleeping on the couch is temporary...but dismemberment lasts a lifetime.
Sunday, March 4, 2007
Must be an impressive pair
Oh, to have this much influence just by showing my ta-tas...
BERLIN (Reuters) - A German man who spent 10 days in a self-made box atop a 72-foot-tall pole to protest a looming jail term was lured off his perch by his wife -- who sent up a topless picture of herself in his lunch box.
Fred Gregor, 45, was bidding to have his 15-month conviction for fraud overturned by squatting in his tiny cubicle atop a converted television mast. He told Reuters in a telephone interview last week that he wanted a new trial.
His wife Susanne, 25, backed his protest until the former stripper and mother of their five children decided she had had enough.
Thursday, March 1, 2007
Brownie Thursday
Overheard at my 2nd grade Brownie troop meeting while we worked toward our Caring and Sharing badge:
"I hate the Germans! They killed my grandpa in the war!"
"I hate the Germans! They killed my grandpa in the war!"
Sleepless Houses Across America...
We had a relatively easy night last night, with the 7 year old only getting up twice. She usually slinks into the guest room, but since my husband was sleeping there last night (banished because of snoring), she lucked into a spot next to me in the Sacred Parental Bed. The 3 month old was sleeping peacefully in the bassinet, which is a relatively new phenomenon that I hope continues.
According to the New York Times, we have it pretty easy every night. In homes all across America, and dare I say the world, parents are up at various hours dealing with "migratory children." Especially between 1-3 am. Expensive princess beds are abandoned in favor of the parents' bed; or, even better, Mom ends up in the princess bed while Dad sleeps with small flailing children.
On one level, it's reassuring that our children are not the only ones up at all hours, unable or unwilling to sleep alone. But on a deeper level, the article brings up the idea that it's our lack of strict boundaries that may be causing the problem. Are we the problem? Are we the same parents who know that our parents probably had the right idea, but we somehow feel guilty for applying the same rules to our own children?
I have fond memories of crawling into my parents bed once in a blue moon during a thunderstorm. Sleeping on Dad's arm, (or better yet, sandwiched in between Mom and Dad) was a luxury I instictively knew not to ask for too often. Why is it so hard for my generation of parents to say "Sleep in your own bed!"? Because sleep is like crack. You get a few hours, and you just want more. We will do anything to get a little sleep, including let a few rules slide here and there.
As of toay, the new rule is that the 7 year old can sleep on the floor, on the couch, in the guest room - anywhere but in our bed. We just got the 3 month old out of it, and if my husband can stop snoring, we will once again share the Sacred Parental Bed. Not much happens but sleep, but for now, I'll take it like the sleep whore that I am.
According to the New York Times, we have it pretty easy every night. In homes all across America, and dare I say the world, parents are up at various hours dealing with "migratory children." Especially between 1-3 am. Expensive princess beds are abandoned in favor of the parents' bed; or, even better, Mom ends up in the princess bed while Dad sleeps with small flailing children.
On one level, it's reassuring that our children are not the only ones up at all hours, unable or unwilling to sleep alone. But on a deeper level, the article brings up the idea that it's our lack of strict boundaries that may be causing the problem. Are we the problem? Are we the same parents who know that our parents probably had the right idea, but we somehow feel guilty for applying the same rules to our own children?
I have fond memories of crawling into my parents bed once in a blue moon during a thunderstorm. Sleeping on Dad's arm, (or better yet, sandwiched in between Mom and Dad) was a luxury I instictively knew not to ask for too often. Why is it so hard for my generation of parents to say "Sleep in your own bed!"? Because sleep is like crack. You get a few hours, and you just want more. We will do anything to get a little sleep, including let a few rules slide here and there.
As of toay, the new rule is that the 7 year old can sleep on the floor, on the couch, in the guest room - anywhere but in our bed. We just got the 3 month old out of it, and if my husband can stop snoring, we will once again share the Sacred Parental Bed. Not much happens but sleep, but for now, I'll take it like the sleep whore that I am.
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