to sleep, perchance to dream.

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.
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Food champ.

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.  Read more

T21 and seven months.

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. Read more

down with one.

down with one.

peanut and meHello, it’s been a while. Have you missed us?

Whew! I’ve been terribly delinquent. Being a new mommy is exhausting. This post has been in the works for over a week now…I sneak in edits while Peanut naps, and I hope I can finally finish before she wakes again for a feeding. I always knew children – babies in particular – required a lot of time and energy, but I had no idea just how much. Like the title of my blog suggests, there isn’t any guide to having kids…I’m learning as I go, and so far, so good.

Aisha will be seven weeks old on Wednesday, and while I missed blogging about the first month mini-celebration her father and I threw for her, I can certainly post some pics. 🙂 My mother teased us for being so treacly, but after what we’d been through with my pregnancy, and then the delivery (I know, I know, I’ll blog about it soon, I promise), it was our way of saying, “hooray, she’s here! Now let’s all drink some beer!” Read more

then and now.

then and now.

il_fullxfull.165641151I simply cannot believe she is two weeks old today.

So it’s been just over two weeks since I last wrote, and obviously, quite a bit has happened since then – namely, I had a baby! Me. I gave birth. To a person. It’s amazing how much life can change in the span of fourteen days.

First, I would like to thank everyone for the well-wishes, prayers, thoughts, emails and messages during this time. Even though I was off busy birthin’ a baby, I can’t tell you how much I missed blogging, and how touched I was by the outpouring of support. You all are swell. Seriously.

I admit that I am having some difficulty writing this post. I’m scrolling through my phone looking for pictures to supplement, and I’m overcome with emotion. Aisha’s delivery and birth were difficult – traumatic, even. We almost didn’t make it. And while we’ve both come out of the experience no worse for wear, the enormity of it seeps into my conscience every now and then, and it’s sobering. Sometimes I tear up. Sometimes I cry outright.  Read more

the final countdown.

the final countdown.

Today’s musical interlude brought to you courtesy of Europe.

Bags are packed. All things baby have been set up, washed, placed and purchased.

Family and friends are all on standby. Camera batteries are fresh. Phones have been charged.

The boy is watching a movie to distract himself. I’m not quite sleepy, so I’m doing some editing work for a client, trying to take my mind off off what is in store for me tomorrow.

I’ve had my final meal of the day; I can’t eat anything after midnight.

I’ve cried. I’ve prayed. I requested that others do the same (pray, not cry).

I’ve done all that there is to do.

By this time tomorrow, I’ll be a mommy.

Un-freaking-believable.

Wish me luck, y’all.

weekend wrap-up: happy to be here.

weekend wrap-up: happy to be here.

image
Get. Out.

Initial surprise notwithstanding, I have to say I’m pretty freaking happy that li’l miss is coming into the world a good week or so earlier than planned.

At 38w1d, I’m extremely uncomfortable. I know I keep bitching and moaning about it, but as anyone who has made it to this point (and sometimes beyond) can tell you, the last weeks aren’t much fun.

in the nude…
Currently, I don’t like wearing clothes. I haven’t bought a stitch of maternity gear, so the the few loose-fitting items I wore in month six, seven and even eight REALLY don’t fit me now. I’ve resorted to a pair of tights and pajama pants borrowed from mum, and a few stretchy tank tops. When I wear my own clothes, I look as though I’ve been stuffed into them. It’s impossible to look cute now, which is why I’ve pretty much stopped leaving the house. I’ve always been comfortable in the buff, but now that I’ve moved into ginormous territory, I am happiest in just my underwear (and even those feel too constricting at times) with a sheet covering me for modesty.

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