And This Little Piggy Went ...

Rain's official (and surprising, of course) first phrase, based on "This Little Piggy Went to Market," which we play every day:

"Wee, wee, wee, wee!"

I laughed so hard, she did it over and over again with the right rhythm and everything. What a ham!

Too ... Much ... Chocolate ...

I try. I try every day. For lunch, I give Rain a dairy product (cheddar cheese or yogurt), a veggie (steamed peas, pureed squash, etc.), and grilled chicken. Everything I don't prepare fresh for her requires a dash: whole-grain, protein-packed, sugar-free ... That kid eats healthier than any one in this house. I've denied her cookies, shakes, fried meats, and--dare I mention the logs on which this country's diet is built?--FRENCH FRIES. How ironic, considering those Parisians are so petite.

But, there are two parents to every story. Tim doesn't see a thing wrong with letting Rain try every sweet that bakes its way into our home. I tried to explain to him that as long as she doesn't have any sweets, she'll never know what she's missing. He thinks I'm a sugar Nazi.

One day she had chocolate chips, and the next day I caught her licking a tiny piece that had melted on the floor. Ugh! Then there was the whole indigestion debate ...

Tim (giving Rain a fry): "Here's one for you."
Me: "Ahem. Did you read that article that your mom gave to us?"
Tim: "Hmmm?""
Me: "Your mom thinks Rain has indigestion because she kept making a funny face the whole time your mom was visiting. I think Rain made the face because her gums were sore, but your mom printed up an Internet article on indigestion."
Tim: "Maybe Rain does have indigestion."
Me: "I read the article."
Tim: (handing Rain another fry) "So does Rain have indigestion?"
Me: "Maybe. You know what it says causes indigestion?"
Tim: "Sugar or something?"
Me: "Fried foods."
Tim: "Oh."

What we do agree on is that Rain's digestive system is fascinating. She is our homemade nutrition experiment. We can give her any food we like, and immediately see the results of our choices in her diaper. Gross, true, but here's what we've verified:

1. It's true: veggies make the digestive tract stay on track. Darn! If only cheesecake had performed as well on our tests.
2. On the downside, nothing stinks worse than a diaper after baby has indulged in peas and squash. Note to Teenage Rain: You will never ever be able to repay me for the kindness of changing a pea-filled diaper. I demand that my room at the nursing home have a view of the ocean.
3. The fine for indulging in dairy and meats is fierce. It will take several--er--tries before the pipes will be running smoothly again.

A final note of advice proved by our science:
Doth thou struggle to eliminate? Make haste to thy market! Surely, the power of magik prunes shall heal thee and thine.

Soap Dope

Seriously, I will continue with all the goings on of the New Mexico trip ... just not today.

Scene
Bathtub, mid-day

Characters
Rain & Grandma Dowdel

Act I: The Meeting

Dowdel (Furiously scrubs with washcloth): I'm sorry there aren't any toys to play with today, Rainbow, but Mommy is in a hurry. We're going to be late to meet the realtor, so no time for toys. Sorry.

Rain (Looks bored. Attempts to try out her sea legs, though the slippery tub is an insurance claim waiting to happen): Ohhhh, ohhhh. Oh.

Dowdel (Pours more overpriced baby body soap onto washcloth) : If you'd stay still a second, this would go a lot faster, you know.

Rain (Cruises along side of tub. Smiles. Spots bar of soap, dry and safe in soap dish): Oh!

Act II: The Set-Up

Dowdel: Rain, leave it alone, please.

Rain (Pushes towards soap)

Dowdel: There's no point, I'm telling you. Remember last time when you & Syrene tried to play with the soap in the tub? It was too slippery to catch, and ... (Pause. Dowdel reconsiders, remembering how funny it was to watch. Baby kept Dowdel up 4 nights prior with teething cries; Dowdel figures baby owes her a laugh.)

Rain (Unsure of how to proceed. Will Dowdel stop her?)

Act III: Soap Dope

Dowdel: No, Rain, leave the soap alone. (Dowdel read parenting book last night, and with guilt, remembers chapter on consistency & discipline.)

Rain (Moves toward soap)

Dowdel: Fine, go ahead. I'm low on laughs, and there's nothing more I'd like to see than for you to pointlessly try to grab at the soap, just like I pointlessly try to get you to go back to sleep at 6 in the morning.

Rain (Reaches for soap)

Dowdel: Go on.

Rain grabs soap (Dowdel forgot soap is, in fact, bone dry), and plops it easily into her mouth.

Frantic digging ensues.

Guilt Trip

Aghhhh! It's Rain's bedtime, so I put her in her crib. Instead of falling asleep, she's crying and saying "Mommmmmm." I bathed her, fed her, cuddled her, and fed her again, so I know she's fine. She's only crying because she doesn't want to go to sleep, BUT does she have to say "Mom"?? Oh, the guilt!! These are the times my pediatrician told me to just let her be, because she's fine. Otherwise, he said, she'll be sleeping in my bed until she's seven.

Hold strong, hold strong, Dowdel, hold strong ...

Ain't You a Little Young?

*I'll continue with our road trip next time. Need to vent first*

What is going on with Rain? Today she pulled 2 stunts (both of which she's done 5 or 6 times already) that make me feel that's she's got a bit too much 'tude for someone with no personal income.

The first thing happens when she's put contraband in her mouth. Every parent has dealt with this: there is baby on the floor, happily chewing away when you know you haven't given her anything to eat.

"Rainbow, are you eating something?"

(Immediately stops chewing. Staring contest ensues. Baby accidentally chews.)

"Ha! Give it to me!" I say, and immediately transform my finger into a fishing hook.

The first 2-3 times this happened, Rain would take off. I'd have to catch her and dig out the offending item. Then Rain would wail over the confiscated piece of paper, string, or crayon chunk.

Now, it goes like this:

"Rain, give it now!" (Looming ever closer with hooked finger)

"Pthhhhhhh!" Rain says, and spits out the object (some people call this a raspberry) in a long-distance arc. She gives a look like, "You want it? Fetch!" and crawls off all smug.

Oh no, you di'nt! The first time she did this, I was shocked. The second time, I had my hands on my hips.

The second questionable action she's repeated lately is this: when she gets mad at me, she throws herself face down on the floor, stretches out her arms in front of her in a "How could you do this to me?" pose, and won't move. It's a Grade A, toddler-size fit.

I laughed the first time she did it, because I was sure I was misinterpreting the whole event. Now that she's done it 6 times, the joke's on me.

But, I have to ask: isn't she a bit young for all this behaviour?

Either way, fear not. If Rain thinks her sassy diaper is going to put her mama in check, well, then she is a little young then, isn't she?

Road Trip ... Again

Some of you may recall that we (foolishly) decided to take Rain on a road trip when she was 3 months old. She cried most of the way. The rest of the time she spent struggling against her car seat restraints until she was sweating (followed by more crying). To break up the monotony, she'd poop. A 5 hour trip turned into a 7 or 8 hour quest.

This past week, we drove to New Mexico. The ONLY reason I went out to Roswell was to visit my brother. He was transplanted there about 6 months ago due to his job. The last time I was in NM was when I was 3 months pregnant with Rain. I was so nauseous that when we crossed the New Mexico/Texas border, I said, "Mark that off my list of places to live! I'm never going there again."

"Hee-hee," said Fate, and last Thursday I found myself in NM again. I understand that my first trip to NM was tainted by morning sickness. Everywhere we went, I had to worry about what I would eat, if I would eat, and what would stay down. So, this was New Mexico's chance to redeem itself to me, not that the visitor's bureau is awaiting my endorsement or anything.

We decided to head out to NM at 9:00 P.M. This is Rain's bedtime. We figured our best chance at having Rain stay happy in her car seat for 8 hours was to drive while she was asleep. Wow, that's something only a newbie parent would do, huh? Even if it meant we would get no sleep, we considered the trade-off fair. Rain did sleep the whole way, but oh the oddities of a long drive in the middle of the night! Let's begin with a piece I like to call, "You feel asleep and we're gonna die!!"