Baby Sicknesses

With babies, not all is peachy one-hundred percent of the time.

This may seem obvious but I think that even us parents forget it sometimes. You may go hours, days, or even weeks without your little one having any problems, but then that one extra hard day or that super rough night hits and you remember really quickly.

Emmy is suddenly sick. It’s not life-threatening or anything, but I guess we don’t really know what it is as the doctor that Kayleigh took her to yesterday didn’t test her for anything or give her anything to help her get better. I guess it’s better than them just writing her a prescription after barely looking at her, but they could have at least tested her for the flu or something, right?

You see, two nights ago, not long after we put Emerson down, Kayleigh and I were passing Emmy’s bedroom door when we began to hear strange noises… it almost sounded like… vomiting. I’ll bet that you’re clever enough to figure out what was going on. We rushed into the room and found our tiny baby holding herself up with her tiny arms over a puddle of puke and attempting to catch her breath.

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How to Tame a Wild Baby?

No, I’m not informing today, I’m asking! How in the heck am I supposed to tame my crazy baby, people?

I see all of these perfect, model-citizen babies when I go out with Emmy. These babies are all sitting straight up in their carts or walking nicely alongside their parents and then there’s Emmy, slipping past the restraint, standing, and turning around in the cart to grab bananas or something and when let free on the ground, terrorizing like a tiny, ADHD-riddled dinosaur.

Lately, we’ve been having a few problems with keeping her civil when she’s on furniture and, while it’s not a huge deal, we’d like to know how to change the behavior! I’m just scared that she’s going to crack her skull one of these days by standing and/or bouncing on the couch. I can just see it happening now!

Now, Emmy is basically a saint of a baby, but she does have her problems, as every baby does. Her craziness and her hyperactivity isn’t even her fault—it’s inbuilt and pre-programmed in her and probably comes from me, so I can’t be upset with her when she is a bit whacky and active. We just get worried about her safety sometimes, as any rational parent would be!

Emmy has busted herself up, hit her head, split her lips, tripped, and all sorts of things since the time she could crawl and does so every day. She’s not clumsy or anything; she’s like normal, baby clumsy and she’s so darn cute to watch, but it also makes your heart race. She moves a million miles an hour, is up and down on the couches, trying to climb on her high-chair, is in and out of the cupboards, trying to charge for the stairs, climbing on our bed, running, running, running! Ahhh, we need all the coffee to keep up!

So I’m just wondering, how in the world do you tame a crazy baby? Is there any way to calm her down a bit? We try (mainly Kayleigh as I’m at work or school quite often) to refocus her energies and keep her busy but she can be a little defiant at times, as all youngins can be.

Party Time, Excellent

I get to do this weekend, something that I haven’t done in a long, long time. Spend a couple long days with my tiny baby and I’m looking forward to it!

We were together today from around 4:30-on and we had a pretty good night. Granted, Emmy goes to bed at eight, but what can ya do. We had a good few solid hours together and it was cool.

I used to be with her three days a week from like 7:30 am until nearly 10 pm. It was a good time and I loved spending all that time with her, just father and daughter, straight chillin’. But she was a blob then and pretty incapable of getting into things and hurting herself severely. That’s not the case now, though!

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Keeping Up

This is truly one of the hardest things about parenting and life in general that really sucks. It’s just a struggle of life and it gets much harder once you have a baby, I swear. I’m talking about keeping up, with your kids, with your work, with, well, everything.

It’s been so hard lately to keep up with everything going on in our lives (and we’re not even that busy) but we’re trying! Do you ever feel so tired that texting somebody back sounds painful, almost like a chore? Or like having to get out of the house and face the world is a death sentence when all you want is some sleep and a day off?

Keeping up with the blog is one of the harder things on my list of hard things to keep up with, and I think it’s because this is my choice. I have to do the things that I have to do (funny, huh?) but I don’t have to do the things that I WANT to do if I’m too tired to. If it’s not required then I can just cut it out for the day, right? Man, I’m working on not letting myself fall into that snake pit! I know that as soon as I start choosing to sleep over writing or Netflix before writing, I’m done for!

Being able to keep up with Emmy has been pretty darn hard for me lately and I know Kayleigh is even more tired than I am but she’s putting her all into being the best mama she can be for Emerson. She’s a superb stay-at-home mom who is really taking on a lot by staying home with Emmy every day but she’s doing it like a trooper. Don’t get me wrong, Emmy is awesome. But if you’ve ever met her, you’ll know how exhausting she is! She’s the sweetest thing but she’s also a little monster! Kayleigh is taking that little monster head-on and still finding time to get everything else done that needs to be done in our lives while I’m working and going to school. She’s doing this all while coffee-deprived and sleep-deficient and she totally rocks it. She’s got it way harder than me and I just want to give it to the stay-at-home moms out there because you all are some tough mothaf*****s. Uh-huh.

Keeping up with life and with family and with everything else you’ve got going on is important for you mentally and psychologically. Trust me, as a parent, if I weren’t to keep up with everything I’m doing and somehow got behind and had to add more stress and exhaustion into my life… I’d probably need institutionalized.

With that, I must get on with my day! I hope you’re all doing well and keeping up in your own lives. Juggling gets easier the more you practice.

Coffee

Alright, alright, now I understand that it may be weird to have an entire post about coffee—or maybe not at all… I don’t know. What I do know is that without the magic substance, I might not be here today, you know, because I have a kid.

Now I know that there are those out there that don’t have a taste for coffee and those that seem to be anti-coffee, for some strange reason. I’m here to tell you that you’re wrong! Coffee is one of the greater things in life and if you don’t like it… you must be sick.

My friendship with Joe (Joe because it’s so funny and witty to call coffee Joe) began at age 23, shortly after I stopped drinking alcohol. I had never had much of a taste for coffee until I dropped one habit and picked up another. I know it sounds like it was just a replacement—and hell, maybe that’s what it is—but it feels like a lot more than that. Joe helps me focus and get the shit done that needs done and helps keep me from falling asleep at my desk at work after we have a rough night with Emmy. And that has happened, more than once—I’m just sayin’—moffuga gets tired bein’ a dad and all, haha.

Coffee has become my crutch—but in a good way; it helps support me in a non-deadly way such as alcohol was providing me. It’s actually pretty healthy for me, according to some studies, and that makes it even better. There really is nothing like a nice, black cup of coffee when you’re fighting to stay conscious or even when you’re just trying to relax, thus why it had to be written about more than just in an in-passing way. So there you have it—my little friendship story with coffee.

I love you, boo.

Obviously, Easter.

It’s crazy to think that Emerson is a year-and-five-months old in fifteen days. How is it already Easter? Time is flying, time is moving and spinning out of control, time goes faster when you’re an adult, and even faster when you have a baby. Ugh.

I remember last year’s Easter like it was yesterday, which it wasn’t, it was a year ago. Anyways, I remember getting Emmy in her little bunny ears, giving her a bundle of fake carrots, and taking pictures of her for the holiday that were really cute. I remember being kind of sad that we couldn’t do an Easter basket or an egg hunt or anything for her because she was still too young and blob-like to even be able to understand. I just remember thinking about how crazy it would be once she was big and old enough to do real Easter things.

Today is just under a year since last Easter, and let me tell you, so much has changed. Emmy is like a totally different baby now and I’m so excited! Today she will get—and love getting—her first real Easter basket. She will find eggs with stickers hidden inside (we don’t give her any candy and she loves stickers so…) and she will hopefully have a lot of fun doing so. I just can’t wait to see her have fun and see the joy in her eyes when she gets to do the fun stuff. Watching her grow up is so cool.

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Rain, Rain, Go Away.

Alrighty then—now that we established what happened with the whole birth part of the story and I’ve talked about some more recent stuff… we can move forward, or onward you might say, in the past, but still onward… in the story, and can now discuss our Portland/Vancouver life a little bit.

I think I mentioned earlier that we were living in a small city called Vancouver, Washington at the time of Emmy’s birth; she was born in Portland, though, and thank the Lord for that. Not that Vancouver is a bad place or anything, but there are definitely some crazies up there and who even knows that there’s a Vancouver in Washington. Anyways, Emmy is Portland-born and she lived there (or near) for the first eight-or-so months of her life.

Now, I’m just going to give you the first 3/4 year of her life in a short, small, little nutshell. When our tubular little tyke was born, it was right in the heart of the rainy season, which worked for the FIRST few months of her life because she was fairly immobile and we weren’t really supposed to take her outside anyway. The more time moved forward and the bigger she grew though, the more we longed to get away from our dreary little apartment on the bottom floor in the small, hardly-known town that is America’s Vancouver.

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