Kimono veranda watcha movie
08 Sep 2010 1 Comment
in Daily Entries, Things that Work Tags: early development, playground, Stay At Home Dad, teething
Molly got some new PJs, which are perfect for sitting on the turtle, chewing on Big Bird and watching a movie.
…And kicking your feet. 
She’s working out some teething stuff again, although it seems to have backed off today. It’s so rough watching her just hurt; having Tylenol and teething goodies is OK enough, but I wish I could make all the pain vanish.
Dad discovered counting lately; for example, counting to 10 during a diaper change. In fact, that’s so good, it should be in a Things that Work:
- Things that work: Counting to 10, and sometimes 20, in earnest during a diaper change to distract her and keep her still.
It’s a simple trick that’s been working this week. Also, counting is generally fun, and can be used to great effect during meals.
I about burst with pride today with Molly. We were on our second playground, looking for kids — found none — so she decided to climb to the top of the big slide at the goose park. She’s been up there before, but it’s been a while; I think she felt more confident in taking her time up there without other kids around. I spotted her all the way up, of course. What surprised me was when she sat down and got her feet out in front of her — she meant to go down it!
I held her hands and lowered her a little ways, but she let go, slid down, took the curve perfectly and stepped off at the bottom. Beaming.
So the next time, once she was in position, I climbed down to meet her at the bottom.
…This is the “Are you sure this thing is safe?” look:
…followed seconds later with “Wheee!!”
…and a perfect dismount at the end.
It is a very big slide. And Molly is a very big girl.
Fever when you hold me tight
09 Apr 2010 Leave a Comment
in Daily Entries, Things that Work Tags: fever, Harry Belafonte, Stay At Home Dad, teething, temporal artery thermometer
Molly slept terribly last night. Between her fever, stuffy/runny nose and whatever teething misery she was in, she took what sleep she did in 10-minute increments. Thus, so did we. Rough night for everyone.
Her day started out much the same, and her zombie parents took turns comforting her and catnapping all day. Things went better for a few hours in the afternoon, which is how things go for me when I’m sick, too, as I think about it. We went outside, we read books, we watched Harry Belafonte videos.
But mostly very little could distract her from the fact she was largely uncomfortable. Her fever did die down this afternoon for a while, too; and on the plus side, she’s drinking water well, so that’s helpful.
Time for a Things that Work, and this one I have to tip my hat to my friend Michael on:
- Things that Work: Temporal artery thermometer. Never have I spent $40 so well.
After Michael’s rave reviews, and his suggestion that perhaps one could leverage greater buying power were one to shop for the thing at a time other than “at 2 a.m. when your baby’s crying,” I went out and got one a month or two ago. Amazing device, startlingly accurate and quick and bothers Molly not a bit. You press it up against her forehead lightly, press the button, drag the thing gently across her forehead to her hairline, and you’re finished.
Essentially it’s an infrared-scan thermometer, and it takes 1,000 readings per second and throws out the outlying readings — e.g. winds up only with the temperature of the temporal artery. I can’t say enough good about it, and I can’t tell you how reassuring it is to know what your child’s temperature is when they’re sick. Temperature’s the main metric you use to determine when to panic, and knowing I wasn’t supposed to panic led me not to. Mostly.
Molly’s high point today was a fun game mom thought up:
…This looks like a familiar scene, but what you can’t tell from the picture is that this time, mom has dumped out all the goldfish crackers and Molly’s putting them back in the container one by one. And we’re all counting along. Good fun!
I hope she has a better night than her day went, poor dear. It makes my heart ache when she’s uncomfortable.
