Check-Up

June had her two-year check-up today (more than two months late). Our little but is no little bug. She is nearly 38 inches tall and weighs 34.2 pounds. The doctor was impressed that she was out of diapers already and told Fred that she wished every two year old that came in to the doctor’s office was like June. “She’s such a treat.”

Two shots: the final Hib shot and the flu vaccine.

The Bug is all set to go.

Relate

Today June’s pediatrician sent me an email to let me know that they have a limited amount of the H1N1 vaccine and are scheduling appointments for children up to 36 months of age. Fred and I had already agreed that we’d get her the vaccine when it was available, so I requested an appointment.

I was happy. I was a bit relieved (though it’s quite possible that by now we’ve already missed the peak of this virus and that a vaccine at this point would be redundant). And then, I was a bit nervous. I suddenly had the thought, “What if we give her the vaccine and she has some terrible reaction? What if we give her the vaccine and the next day…what if she becomes autistic?”

Oh yes, I did. I thought it. I had the very thought, though it lasted for only a moment, that many of the people I said I couldn’t relate to have had. And so, for that moment, I could relate. I could relate to the somewhat irrational fear that comes over us whenever we need to make a decision for our children coupled with the fleeting notion that we are able to control what happens to them.

I don’t know what I’ll do when June’s heart is broken for the first time, or when she feels insecure because her boobs aren’t very big (if she takes after her mother, that is). I don’t know how I’d react if she were to get pregnant in high school or smoke pot when she’s still a tween. But I know that I’ll never know how I’ll feel about any of these things until they happen (or don’t, cross my fingers). And I’m sure no matter what happens I’ll always have those moments of doubt, those moments when I can relate to those people I never thought I could relate to.

Vaccination Against Reason

I probably shouldn’t write about this. Vaccination is a dangerous topic. I can’t tell you exactly why this is a dangerous topic. I cannot explain why it is that the topic of vaccination is yet another arena in which the public at large would like to wage their wars, but there it is. I’ve talked about this before. But that was before the H1N1 scare began.

So here we are again.

June’s school posts notes on the front door of suspected H1N1 cases within the school and from which classrooms they have been reported. This is kind of them. I recognize that. But I cannot tell you into what kind of panicked hole I run myself every day when I see that a new post has been put on the door. It goes something like this:

Should I take June out of school? I mean, after all, all I’m doing is writing and such when she’s there. She doesn’t need to be there. We could save some money. But she loves the school so much. And it’s so good for her. She’s making all kinds of little friends and has learned so much. But what if all of the other little kids cough in her face and wipe their noses on her hair? What if she catches the virus and dies?..

You get the idea.

And then the question of whether or not to vaccinate her arises (which I recognize is a moot point at the moment since the vaccine is not even available until mid-November). Well, this might make you hate me. It might make you decide to never read my blog again. So be it. Because, that’s right, we’ve decided to vaccinate June against H1N1. I know, I know, I’m evil. I don’t really love my daughter. I just don’t want the inconvenience of caring for a sick child. And so on. But…

Otherwise perfectly healthy pregnant women and children are dying from this flu, or suffering severe complications. I guess that’s motivation enough for me. I guess I don’t really believe that this information is hype. This isn’t to say that I think all of the information we’re receiving on this topic is valid, from either side. Which is kind of my point. We just don’t know. It’s true that for the majority of the population, this strain of flu will do you no more harm than the usual strains of flu, but June is a child and, well, like I said, otherwise perfectly healthy children are getting violently ill. Of course, I’ve already shown what a heartless parent I am when I chose to vaccinate June as a baby. I had to make sure to defend myself at the time by saying, “Well, we didn’t give her all the vaccines.” In other words, I’m not that wicked.

Ugh.

Lately it seems that I can get pretty worked up on this topic, which is odd for me. Before I had June I would never have imagined trying to encourage people to vaccinate their kids. I still believe that it’s up to every parent to do what they think is best. But now, even as I write that, a tiny voice creeps up that says, “but vaccinations only work when the vast majority of people agree to them.” I guess what disturbs me is that many people are making decisions for their children (and themselves) based on irrationality and misinformation. And fear. We want proof that vaccines do not carry with them any sort of risk or harm, which is something we will never have. But we do know that they, in great part, bring with them benefits, the primary one being fewer sick people.

I guess all I want is for parents to arm themselves with real information, but exactly where can we get that sort of information? From medical and scientifically based sources? Unfortunately, they are biased. From Jenny McCarthy? Well, she’s pretty biased too.

I’m just not sure, but I know that my views on this topic have changed radically now that I have a child. I suppose I could say that about a lot of things.

Short

Today has been a crazy day (brain occupied with many other to-do’s), so this post is going to be pretty short. And it is going to feature the cutest photo of my daughter that has ever been taken. Here it is:

She’s only two, but the toddler classroom at her school still participates in school photos. When I saw this I almost burst in a bubble of cute overload. Look at those cheeks! I really can’t believe that Fred and I made such a cute little creature (though Fred is a handsome guy). Those dimples and that hair! I can’t handle it.

There was also a classroom photo taken which we’ve framed and put on June’s dresser. It’s pretty adorable because she talks to her friends in the picture and narrates everything she’s doing. For instance, when she was getting dressed this morning, she would look at the picture and say, “Look friends, I’m putting on my underwear!” Adorable.

Pee

Potty Training Week #2

Patience level, Mommy: Surprisingly High

The first time we tried to potty train June, it was a complete disaster. It was July 4th weekend and we had decided to give the three day potty training a try. Three days with nothing but you and your naked toddler inside the walls of your home, drinking copious amounts of fluids and eating salty, pee-inducing foods. Well, since Fred had the 4th off, we figured this weekend was the best weekend to give it a go since we could both be there for the full three days.

June woke up at 6:00 a.m. Breakfast followed. And in the midst of breakfast, a naked June began to pee. Pee all over her booster chair, the floor, you get the idea. The idea behind this three day training is that any time your (naked) child starts to poop or pee, you bring them to the potty. Ideally you have a potty in every room but…seriously folks. So we just brought the one Baby Bjorn potty we have into each room with us.

Well, need I tell you that a toddler in the midst of eating their Cheerios is not too thrilled about being yanked away from their meal and set down to pee. Most of it was on the floor already anyhow. So, June is screaming for her breakfast and I’m cleaning up the pee. Strike One.

Breakfast is over and June is running around playing. Naked. She climbs onto the couch and…yes, pee. All over the couch. Fortunately this couch is easy to wash, but it’s still not a pleasant thing. Again, June is whisked to the potty which has now followed us into the living room. And again, June screams because, come on!, she was playing with her toys dammit!

I clean the couch and spray it down with upholstery spray and drag the cushions out onto the deck. Then June is dancing around and…more pee. Fred picks her up to bring her to the potty but this time she breaks free, her naked little behind running from the living room out to the porch screaming, “NO POTTY! NO POTTY!” followed by pee on the carpet. Thankfully it is now nap time.

Fred puts June down for her nap. He walks down into the kitchen and I look at him with the look; the look that admits defeat. The look that says, “There is no way in hell that I am doing this for three days.” I don’t say it that way though. I say, “I don’t think we’re quite prepared for this.” Agreed.

We also agree that we’re not going to do this potty training thing again for awhile, that we don’t want June to be traumatized at the thought of peeing on the toilet. So we wait.

Until September 8th, June’s first full day of Montessori school. The school requires that the toddlers wear underwear, though does not require them to be potty trained. They are willing to clean up the messes as long as we supply the clothes. But we figured this was a good time to follow through at home as well. And I have to say, I’m doing fine with it this time. I don’t know about all of you other parents out there, but I’d much rather simply throw a pair of wet pants into the wash and wipe off my daughter’s behind than have a pee-soaked couch, carpet, floor, etc. June is also having remarkable (it seems to me) success for only having been doing this for a week and a half. I’d say she makes it into the toilet 50% of the time, which is fantastic. And there is very little drama around it all, which works well for me.

Your Second Birthday

Dear June,

Tomorrow (or today, when I finally post this) is your second birthday. You were born at 10:34 two years ago after six hours (relatively few) of labor. Your daddy rubbed my back the entire time and we were both so ecstatic (me exhaustively ecstatic) when you arrived. And two years later, we’re still just as excited.

You are more wonderful than we ever could have imagined. We are amazed that at only the age of two we are able to carry on conversations with you over dinner. You may want to know in the future that at two you could say, “You are my favorite daddy” and “I want to color with my markers!”

You love to eat bagels and peas. And banana bread. You don’t like tofu or onions, which is unfortunate and hopefully you’ll learn to love both. Your favorite songs right now are “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” and “The Eensty Weensty Spider”(both of which we listen to over and over again in the car on the way to school). Your favorite books are Mother Goose and Little Bear. You are very compassionate and kiss any creature that looks as though it’s sad or in pain. I love this about you. I love many things about you.

You spend what seems like an infinite amount of time coloring and drawing happy faces. You love to dance and own two tutus (one from Grandma Marlene and one from Grandpa Bob). These are the ways in which you take after me. You get giddy before bedtime and run around like crazy just like your daddy did when he was little. You love to make music too, just like he does. You have strawberry blonde hair like me and a square jaw like him.

I cannot wait to see what you learn and do next.

We love you June, and the last two years of our lives has been made just that much better by having you in it. Happy Birthday my darling daughter!

Love,
Mommy

“I Want to Go Back to My School!”

Last Wednesday was June’s first day at her new Montessori school. Fred and I had attended a parent orientation last Monday and were very excited (though also emotional) about the fact that June would be starting this new adventure.

The way that this Montessori school works is that new students go through a phase-in process so the first day they are there for 15 minutes, 30 minutes the next day, 45 the next, etc., building up to three hours. So last Wednesday, June was only there for 15 minutes. She walked right in the room with no problem, turning to say goodbye to Fred and I. When we went to get her 15 minutes later, she didn’t want to leave.  She also didn’t want to nap. She laid down in her bed saying, “I want to go back to my school.” Ha ha!

She didn’t take her nap that afternoon either, so the next day at school was a bit more difficult. A very exhausted June cried some when one of the boys in her class crowded her personal space. Oh, how very Minnesotan of her!

The last two days, there have been some screaming tears at the door, but moments later, June is fine, and I think she’s starting to understand that we’ll always come back for her. She loves the teachers and the activities they have for her to do. (If you don’t know much about Montessori and would like to, let me know. I’ll write another post about that with more in depth information.) Next week they start what they call “toileting”, so no more diapers for June. There will probably be plenty of dirty laundry for awhile, but I think we’re ready.

Photos!

New photos, and a post coming soon about June’s first days at “school”.

Bigger

Our little almost-two-year old amazes me every day. She is 36.5 inches tall, 32 pounds and can say things like:

“I don’t want to eat kiwis anymore.”

As well as, “Hey guys, I’m back.” “Daddy, don’t forget your coffee.” “Oooooo, the flowers are so pretty.”

Granted, her diction isn’t perfect, but come on, “Daddy don’t forget your coffee”? I’m impressed.

We’ll see what else happens in the next five weeks.

More pictures soon!

Driftin’ Away

It has been so long since I’ve written here, I almost forgot this blog existed.

No, that’s not really true. It’s just been a crazy couple of weeks in our household. June is growing leaps and bounds and Fred and I can barely keep up. She is talking so much now, I’m blown away by the things she understands and the sentences she strings together. I’m trying to think of one now, but of course my brain is failing me.

We’ve transferred June into a toddler bed, which seems like such a little thing but feels so huge. I find myself waxing sentimental over the days when she could barely lift her head or turn from her stomach to her back. Not that I want those days back. I don’t, particularly. I am completely in love with this stage of June’s, even with the ever increasing ability to protest and procrastinate. She’s so much more independent and it’s pretty fun to watch her as she analyzes the world. I’m starting to be able to visualize her as a little girl; a five-year-old, a ten-year-old. She’s inherited both mine and Fred’s love of language. From my mother (and hopefully from the two of us as well) she’s inherited an incredible sense of compassion. Unfortunately for her, I think she’s also inherited my thighs.

Seriously though, it’s been the most momentous time in her life thus far, for me anyway, and I’m just trying to enjoy what I can of it. I will say though that this nearly-two-year-oldness requires more consistent date nights. It sometimes feels like Fred and I haven’t talked about anything but June for ages.