to sleep, perchance to dream.

TWITM_sleeptrainingAisha is neither smiling nor smizing. This is a full-on, sleep-deprivation-induced meltdown.

Like her mama, Aisha is what Bajans would call, “a night bat” – or night owl, in North American terms. She has been a good, solid sleeper since she was born, but lately, her hours have been getting later and later. It used to be that she’d hit deep sleep mode around late evening; these days it’s closer to midnight, and sometimes beyond.

In some ways, I don’t mind, as it means that she doesn’t wake up before 9 or 10 (I’m so not a morning person); it also means that I can’t plan any evening activities like salsa, or going to see a movie, or even a late dinner with friends. My mother happily babysits, but I’d prefer that the babe is asleep so as not to pose too much of an imposition, so most (okay, ALL) nights, I end up just staying home.
Continue reading

she of a thousand names.

What's in your name? via OnomastikFun fact: We considered the name Poppy, after CNN’s Poppy Harlow, but when it was pointed out
that kids would end up calling her “Poopy,” :( we put the kibosh on that.
     .
Before Aisha was born, her father and I had taken to calling her Peanut, based on the way she looked in her ultrasound.

Right after her delivery, and for a few weeks following, she was nothing but a big face and cheeks, so I took to calling her Bobblehead, Cheeks McGee or Colonel Fathead (in the most loving way, of course).

Over time, she has become Le Babe, El Bebe, Baba, Baba-lu and Baba-licious. Our neighbours are Sri Lankan, and a term of endearment in their native Tamil is, Chunkitty Bala (I’ve no idea how to spell it, so I’m going with phonetics. My apologies). My father is the only one who calls her that, but more often than not, he just shortens it to “Chunk”. This is perfect, since she is indeed a little chunk o’goodness. Her Portuguese father calls her Amor, or Menina and my least favourite, Boneca – it just means “doll,” but I hate the way it sounds: buh-NEH-kah.

I imagine one day, when she is old enough to speak, she will filter through the nicknames and respond to only those that she likes. For now, though, she is Peanut to her father, Chunk to her grandfather, plain ol’ Aisha to her grandmother, and Baba to me.

The dog, on the other hand, couldn’t care less. :D

lost dog.

nakitaLookit that face. She used to be the cutest thing going at our house. 

Long before the days of Aisha, our little pup Nakita had the rule of the roost. She had three beds in the house, a million balls and squeak toys, and the undivided attention of all and any who visited. Our house rule was “please acknowledge the dog,” not because she was that important, but because she wouldn’t quit barking at visitors unless she received a rub.

When I was in the last days of being pregnant, Nakita took to lying at or on my belly, which I thought was pretty cute, and I hoped that she would be as attentive once the baby arrived.

And then the baby arrived.

Once the star of the house, Nakita was abruptly usurped as the new pink, wriggling, pooping thing quickly became top dog. Our poor little fuzzball couldn’t understand why, as with other small squeaky things in the house, she wasn’t allowed to chew on, drag or lick it. Loving words of affection and tummy rubs became “Nakita, no!” or “Stop that” and gentle shoves away when she got too close to the mysterious being. Continue reading

the heavy.

TWITM_the heavy_sexyAisha smizing. She’s sexy and she knows it.

When Aisha was born, she was a wee thing of just over six pounds. In June, at her six-month checkup, the paediatrician informed me that she weighed 18 lb 9oz. She’d gone from being in the 20th percentile for both height and weight in her fourth month, to the 90th percentile for weight (and only 10th in height – womp, womp).

When I relaid the information to our home care nurse, her eyes widened and she said, “Oh, my! Babies are supposed to triple their birth weights by about one year of age…she’s already past that.”

I’m not entirely surprised. Last week I wrote about her healthy appetite. Her current love of all things edible means she’ll likely be a Chunky McButtons well into toddler-hood. Continue reading

Food champ.

TWITM_foodchamp_chubblyAisha, about two months ago. Chubbly! Bubbly! She has thinned out quite a bit since then.
She will certainly hate me for this one day.

I always find it funny when someone asks, “is she a good eater?” I mean, it’s pretty evident from the rolls in her arms and the chub in her cheeks (and arms, and legs) that li’l miss Aisha doesn’t miss a meal. Instead of rolling my eyes, I simply jerk my head in her direction and reply, “she didn’t get that size from NOT eating, that’s for sure.”

From about four months of age, Aisha was interested in eating, and even though her doctor advised me to wait a few more months to circumvent the possibility of early allergies, there was no waiting for this kid. By the time she’d reached 5.5 months, the girl was eating cereal, fruit purees, smashed veggies and basically little bits of anything she could work around her mouth and smush with her gums.  Continue reading

T21 and seven months.

BabaMy big girl! Peanut’s been busy growing, y’all…

Whew!

Quite a lot happens when you’re away from the blog. My hiatus wasn’t about anything more than wanting to spend some serious loving-up time with the girl and not blogging about every little adorable thing that she was doing every moment of the day. That’s what mommy-bloggers do (not that there’s anything wrong with that); there are a glut of cute blogs out there showcasing baby beans sporting hilariously sweet micro-fashion and doing hilariously sweet (and sometimes disgustingly funny) things.

When I found out about Peanut’s Trisomy 21 diagnosis, I wanted this blog to be a resource to other parents who might be going through the same thing. But once she was born, I found that, for the most part, she more more “typical” than not…she didn’t have any major health or feeding issues, her growth and development were on track, and she ate, slept and pooped like any other kid. Down Syndrome really didn’t come into play, and I felt as though the blog wasn’t serving its original purpose.

So I stopped blogging. Continue reading