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Browsing Tag: babies

Let’s Just Focus On That

Cian, as I mentioned, took a tumble down our (wide, wooden, steep) staircase a couple of weeks ago. No, we did not have a baby gate up, because a) he wasn’t CLIMBING stairs when we moved houses, and b) we needed to get a gate specifically for this staircase, and well, we hadn’t yet. Please see letter a) as to why. Rookie move, I know. And yet. Now that my hysterical weeping, existential self-analysis as a mother, and vows to move into a nice little rancher are behind me, the only part I haven’t blocked out as a method of avoiding PTSD is what strangers said when they saw the massive black eye on Cian’s beautiful, little, 15-month-old face (Easter Sunday mass with that bruise was fun. At least we gave people something to focus on when the sermon went a little long, right?). And I can tell you this: the reaction a boy gets when half his face looks like a rotting eggplant is much different than when a girl gets a bruise. Saoirse, or Quinn, if they had gotten hurt? Well: “Oh, you poor wittle baby…

He Might be On to Something

You might be sitting there right now, flipping through your usual go-to pages on the Internet, drinking your afternoon cup of coffee before you get back to it. You might be bored. You might be anxious about something–say, for instance, the fact that you’re moving in a week and have been avoiding the packing for so long that you very well might still be here shoving sippy cups and ratty t-shirts into boxes when the new owner starts moving her own stuff in next Friday (no? That’s just me?). You might be cursing out the woman in the cubicle next to you who insists on microwaving leftover fish each day for lunch, or listening to your baby wake from his nap even though you were counting on another twenty minutes of relative peace (yep. That’s me). You might be sad, or hungry, or tired, or in desperate need of a pedicure and hoping the warm temperatures don’t arrive before you get a chance to get your spring toes on. Well, never mind, you. Don’t worry about it. Because here’s the thing: I have a…

And Yet It’s Twelve Months

Happy New Year, everyone! We celebrated with champagne and a decimated carrot cake and took way too many pictures of one certain birthday boy. And then I put Cian to bed an hour later than his usual bedtime and promptly burst into tears. Absolute, ridiculous, sobbing tears. It was weird. But I think they were a long time coming. See, this has been the most difficult year of parenting life I’ve experienced so far. Let me clarify: Cian has been the happiest baby of three really happy children. He has been loving, and lovable, and easy, and good-natured, and the best, best pint-sized dinner date you could imagine. It’s just the sleep–the sleep, the sleep, the lack of SLEEEEEEEEP–that’s been the kicker. He just started sleeping through the night this week (does a 5:30 a.m. wake time count?). He’s still an irregular napper. I cannot tell you how utterly miserable, crazy, distracted, impatient a person can be made when she has not slept. If you’ve been there, you may forget. If you haven’t, you don’t want to experience…