Yesterday evening, I had a phone call from my sister Amy who requested that I talk to Abigail, not as an aunt but as a librarian. After calming down a squalling Henry who had managed to get stuck under his swing, I heard an obviously upset little girl on the other end of the phone say, "Aunt Carrie, I can't find my library book."
Poor girl was so upset that she lost her book. Amy suggested they call me to let her know that it happens and it was OK. Which is exactly what I told her. She was surprised to learn that students 10 years older than her still lose library books as well. I gave her the same list of places to look that I tell my students (bedroom, classroom, bookshelves, backpack--"It's not in my backpack!") and suggested she go tell her school librarian the next day because you never know. Someone might have found the book and turned in if she left it in her classroom or the cafeteria. After a little more reassuring that the librarian wouldn't be mad but Abigail might have to replace or pay for the book if it is lost, she seemed to feel a little better about the situation.
Enough to let me know that she did have good news--another lost tooth! That is definitely not a bad thing to lose.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
So Blogger went and changed on me...
What? I take a 6-month hiatus from writing and now I can't figure the site out. I have a blog post all written in my head complete with pictures and witty commentary. Trying to figure out how to add the pictures. Bear with me. It may take a bit to get back in the swing of things.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
What it takes to get me back to this place--
I've been meaning to come back over here and write. I need to come back over here and write. There just always seems to be something else that comes up, like a diaper needing changed or an infant needing to be fed or a bed calling my name. Things are settling back down though and I need to come back and write about the last six months before I completely forget what it was like to be mama to a tiny little baby.
As it is, my baby isn't too tiny any longer. Everyone who sees him comments on how big he is for his age or they ask if his father is tall. At almost 7 months, he weighs about 18 lbs. and is 28" long. Henry is rolling and gooing and chatting and smiling and laughing and *almost* sitting independently. Every day, even those rare bad days, Paul and I realize how fortunate we are to have such a happy, content little fellow.
We are now about seven weeks into the school year and everyone seems to have settle into a routine. Paul handles the mornings and drop-off while I take over in the afternoons after school is finished. Henry is enjoying daycare--he *LOVES* the infant room teacher Demi with a love that knows no rival--and things are going pretty well for our little family.
And now those two little stories that I just can't forget and why I'm back writing over here--
Every Sunday evening, I lay out a week's worth of outfits for Henry. Paul asked if I would so it is one less worry for him during the morning and I do enjoy making the little outfits for Henry. I make a stack with a onesie and shorts/pants, paired together for each day. Because he is so long, Henry doesn't have many one-piece rompers but he does own a couple of them. Two weeks ago, I'd put one in the stack for Henry to wear--a little plaid one-piece shorts outfit. When I picked Henry up from daycare that day, Demi told me that his shorts were in his cubby. I was quite confused as to why Henry would have shorts when he was already wearing shorts and said something to that effect. I told Demi that I wasn't questioning her but I was wondering why Paul had put Henry in another pair of shorts. Curious.
When questioned later, Paul said he thought the romper wasn't really shorts since it was so baggy and while he thought I'd messed up by not putting out shorts, he was rather proud that he'd fixed the problem without asking me. He then offered/threatened to put Henry in three pairs of shorts to take to daycare the next day (he didn't but told Demi that he might some day just because he could).
Last Saturday morning, we'd gone to the swimming pool early and came home before Henry's morning nap. We bathed Henry and I put him down for a nap in only his diaper, knowing that he's figured out how to get at least one tab of the diaper open but not thinking he'd do much beyond that (if that much). He isn't a great napper but we keep trying and even though we could hear him "talking" in his crib after about 30 minutes, we left him for a little down time for over an hour, until Henry let us know he was done with his alone time. After Paul picked Henry up, he called to me to come up to Henry's room when I got a chance, no hurry. Upon entering the room, I was told to check out Henry's crib where there was a big wet spot right in the middle of the bed. Apparently Henry had managed to not only undo his diaper, he'd wiggled out of it and was waving it around when Paul went in to get him. Smart little monkey. And now we no longer leave Henry in just his little diaper. Lesson quickly learned.
As it is, my baby isn't too tiny any longer. Everyone who sees him comments on how big he is for his age or they ask if his father is tall. At almost 7 months, he weighs about 18 lbs. and is 28" long. Henry is rolling and gooing and chatting and smiling and laughing and *almost* sitting independently. Every day, even those rare bad days, Paul and I realize how fortunate we are to have such a happy, content little fellow.
We are now about seven weeks into the school year and everyone seems to have settle into a routine. Paul handles the mornings and drop-off while I take over in the afternoons after school is finished. Henry is enjoying daycare--he *LOVES* the infant room teacher Demi with a love that knows no rival--and things are going pretty well for our little family.
And now those two little stories that I just can't forget and why I'm back writing over here--
Every Sunday evening, I lay out a week's worth of outfits for Henry. Paul asked if I would so it is one less worry for him during the morning and I do enjoy making the little outfits for Henry. I make a stack with a onesie and shorts/pants, paired together for each day. Because he is so long, Henry doesn't have many one-piece rompers but he does own a couple of them. Two weeks ago, I'd put one in the stack for Henry to wear--a little plaid one-piece shorts outfit. When I picked Henry up from daycare that day, Demi told me that his shorts were in his cubby. I was quite confused as to why Henry would have shorts when he was already wearing shorts and said something to that effect. I told Demi that I wasn't questioning her but I was wondering why Paul had put Henry in another pair of shorts. Curious.
When questioned later, Paul said he thought the romper wasn't really shorts since it was so baggy and while he thought I'd messed up by not putting out shorts, he was rather proud that he'd fixed the problem without asking me. He then offered/threatened to put Henry in three pairs of shorts to take to daycare the next day (he didn't but told Demi that he might some day just because he could).
Last Saturday morning, we'd gone to the swimming pool early and came home before Henry's morning nap. We bathed Henry and I put him down for a nap in only his diaper, knowing that he's figured out how to get at least one tab of the diaper open but not thinking he'd do much beyond that (if that much). He isn't a great napper but we keep trying and even though we could hear him "talking" in his crib after about 30 minutes, we left him for a little down time for over an hour, until Henry let us know he was done with his alone time. After Paul picked Henry up, he called to me to come up to Henry's room when I got a chance, no hurry. Upon entering the room, I was told to check out Henry's crib where there was a big wet spot right in the middle of the bed. Apparently Henry had managed to not only undo his diaper, he'd wiggled out of it and was waving it around when Paul went in to get him. Smart little monkey. And now we no longer leave Henry in just his little diaper. Lesson quickly learned.
Friday, March 12, 2010
More things to remember
Henry's birth day was crazy just because, as Paul put it, we managed to experience three types of birth processes (natural labor, epidural, c-section) to get the boy. In the whole of the day, I think we managed to keep our wits and our humor about us.
One of the oddest things that happened was as they were counting the equipment/medical stuff that had been used during the c-section. Paul had already gone to the recovery room with Henry and I was in the OR with the doula, Lucy, when we heard the doctor say, "Was it two or three?" Seems there was a miscommunication about how many of one type of equipment had been used during the procedure. There was a call for X-ray to come and while the anesthesiologist was reassuring me that the chances of anything being left was pretty much nil, it's a little disconcerting to hear the doctor say she's not going to close me up until there is a definite count. Thankfully, nothing was left on the inside that wasn't supposed to be there.
I was wheeled back to the OR just as the big UNM/BYU basketball game was tipping off. The entire time we were in the room, the anesthesiologist was giving score updates. Paul was getting updates via his iPhone and visits with the family while we were in the recovery room. We kept Saturday's newspaper and that game is the front story.
After it was determined that Henry was going to the NICU for a bit because of the difficulty he was having breathing, Paul was taken to the maternity ward
One of the oddest things that happened was as they were counting the equipment/medical stuff that had been used during the c-section. Paul had already gone to the recovery room with Henry and I was in the OR with the doula, Lucy, when we heard the doctor say, "Was it two or three?" Seems there was a miscommunication about how many of one type of equipment had been used during the procedure. There was a call for X-ray to come and while the anesthesiologist was reassuring me that the chances of anything being left was pretty much nil, it's a little disconcerting to hear the doctor say she's not going to close me up until there is a definite count. Thankfully, nothing was left on the inside that wasn't supposed to be there.
I was wheeled back to the OR just as the big UNM/BYU basketball game was tipping off. The entire time we were in the room, the anesthesiologist was giving score updates. Paul was getting updates via his iPhone and visits with the family while we were in the recovery room. We kept Saturday's newspaper and that game is the front story.
After it was determined that Henry was going to the NICU for a bit because of the difficulty he was having breathing, Paul was taken to the maternity ward
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