Percents and Percentiles

We recently went to the Doctor for Eme's 15-month check-up and it has inspired me to think more about percents...

• 10th-25th The percentile of Eme's weight
• 25th-50th The percentile of Eme's height
• 50th-75th The percentile of Eme's head circumference ("It's like an orange on a toothpick")
• 90 Approximate percent of me that now feels confident as a mother (I still have my days)
• 75 Approximate percent guilty I (still) feel when Eme gets her vaccinations (100% of me knows it's best, but only 25% of me believes it right at the moment she gets the shot and looks at me as if to say, "mommy, how could you?")
  
• 70 Approximate percent of my time that I spend doing housework and taking care of Eme (the other time is me sleeping, working, or having a quick, rare moment to relax with Andreas)
• 50 Approximate percent of my time that I thought I'd be devoting to housework and Eme (but it's never an equal split, is it? Silly mommy.)
  
• 25 Approximate percent of my own identity that I feel I have left (I sometimes even refer to myself as "mommy" in my own head)
  
• 10 Approximate percent of me that can remember life before Eme
  
• 1 Approximate percent that cares to try to remember life before Eme
  
• 99.9 Approximate percent chance that Eme is the best baby that has ever existed (I've left the .1% for possible parental bias)

What percentages have you been experiencing in your life?

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Wonder Baby Wednesday #4 (I wonder when I'll find time to post again?)

Wonder Baby Powers, activate! Form of.......a firefighter!

We're putting out "fires" everywhere! Mostly they involve crayon eating, but they're fires nonetheless.

On the day of this picture, we were touching trucks at the library.

Mommy goes to the prom

I'm going to be 30 in a few weeks. That means a lot of different things. Some people feel old at 30, or like you've reached the "real" barrier to adulthood.

As you may have guessed by the title of this post, I went to Prom on Friday night. 30 wasn't making me feel old before, but I did at the prom.

The biggest thing that made me feel old? Some of those dresses were WAY too short. All of a sudden I was seeing things as a parent and I thought "did their mothers see them in those dresses?!"

I'll post them if I can get a hold of some of the pics (surprisingly, we didn't even bring a camera, but lots of other people from whom we can probably get some did, including both of our moms taking pics of us before we left -- yes, just like old times -- and the teacher in charge of yearbook took plenty during the evening).

A few other things that made me feel old:

• All of those kids (yes, I called them kids) looked like they were playing dress-up.
• But they still looked better than me in many ways. (ways that Andreas is too good of a husband to ever point out, but which I noticed anyway)
  
• Plus, I thought about what it was like at my prom and remembered taking it very seriously. Prom is such a big deal to high school students, but for me it was one night in a string of nights where I've gotten to get dressed up and be with Andreas. (Granted, this was the first big night out we've had since before the baby, but still a drop in the bucket compared to how the teens must have been feeling that night.

I've been to prom three times as an attendee, and now once as a chaperone. The first time is hardly worth mentioning (I was a sophomore, and split up with my then-boyfriend not long after prom). The next two times were with Andreas (yes, he and I were High School sweethearts), and chaperone duty was because he is a HS teacher, so I've now been to prom with him three times.

First prom with Andreas:

• Spent a lot of time worrying about the dress.
  
• Wondered whether he'd have a good time (we'd only been together for a few months).
• Worried about every detail including dinner (at Amy's house -- her mom's a great cook!), makeup (went to get it done at a Clinique booth at the mall), hair (sisters helped me get it right), pictures (ordered a bunch to share), dancing (how much to dance? would he want to dance with me at the slow songs?), etc, etc, etc.
  
• Had a great time.

Second prom with Andreas:

• Spent less time worrying about my dress and more about Gillianne's (it was her prom that year, too).
  
• Spent less time worrying about my dinner and more about Gillianne's date's (he chipped a tooth).
  
• Worried exactly the same about makeup and hair (I've never been great with those things).
  
• Danced about the same amount as last time, and ended up getting a hilarious video of us dancing with each other and singing to "Brown-Eyed Girl" onto the senior video.
  
• Had a great time.

Third prom with Andreas, this past Friday:

• Worried a little about my dress (how formal are chaperones supposed to be?).
  
• Worried a little about my hair (mom and I went to get our hair done; too much?).
  
• Worried a little about my makeup (I just chose not to wear much at all).
  
• Didn't have to worry about dinner -- Andreas' school provides dinner at prom, and it was very good.
• The most worrying I did was about whether Eme would go to sleep for Grandpa Guy. (Thanks for taking care of her, Dad!)
  
• Didn't dance at all (don't want to come off as inappropriate when you're a chaperone, and plus it was threatening to turn into a mosh pit), but got to watch the dancing from up on the balcony and it was amazing to see the crush of high school bodies gyrating with abandon from that angle; did we look like that at our prom?
  
• Had a great time.

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Wonder Baby Wednesday #3

Wonder Baby Powers, activate! Form of..... Cinderella.

"Must... scrub... this... spot!"

Wait, does that make her Lady Macbeth?

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Things you never thought you'd say

Have you ever heard something come out of your mouth and realized you were turning into your mother or father? Yes, this happens to all of us at some point, and not surprisingly seems to happen even more often once we have children of our own.

That's one group of things I told myself I'd never say. There's another group, though, of things that are totally ridiculous. Things that you know as you say them are going to be ridiculous, but need to be said anyway.

Time for Part 2 in the series of "Things I Never Thought I'd..."

This time, it's a list of things I didn't know I'd say once I became a mommy:

• Anything that sounds like something my parents said to us (e.g. "we're not paying to heat the outside," and "if you're not in the room, you should turn out the lights." Both of those were to Andreas; imagine what I'll find myself saying once Eme is old enough to understand?)
• One that I've been using a lot recently: "Books are for reading, not for eating." (I actually have to tell Eme that lots of things aren't for eating -- shoes, toys, cell phones, pets -- but I say the books one often because it rhymes, so I, being especially nerdy, especially like that phrase.)
• Anything that I say that is grammatically incorrect (see my post on The Most Beautifulest, Stink-pantsiest Sleepsing Bee Ever for more on the topic of Mommy grammar); for an example that's not in my grammar post, I've recently been saying "make" sometimes in place of "take" (as in "let's make a little nap"). I hear it come out of my mouth and I think "wow...what am I saying?"
  
• As if I don't already know the answer, I often find myself asking to the room at large (which usually means just me, Eme, sometimes Grandpa Guy, and the cats) "who filled their diaper?" (The answer is always Eme, in case you were wondering.)
• I make more animal sounds than one would think would be necessary in any household that's not literally a zoo. I can do a pretty good cat and dog, but I'm also branching out into horse, goat, sheep, pig, lion, duck, goose, frog, bee, rooster, chick, and any other animal that comes up in any of her books. I'm getting really good at monkey (see my post on things you never thought you'd do for more on monkey/chimp sounds....).
• I sometimes call myself "mommy" even in my head. That is, when I can't possibly be talking to anyone else but myself, I still sometimes refer to me as "mommy."
• I often narrate things that are happening as they happen in order that Eme can learn what is going on. Sometimes I even sing (often to the Winnie the Pooh tune) things that are happening. It's funny when Eme is in the room, generally embarrassing when she's not.
  

I'm sure I will think of more. How about you? What is something you have found yourself saying that you thought "man, I sound like my parents!" or "I can't believe I just said that..."?

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Things you never thought you'd do

I find myself talking more about bodily functions now that I have a baby than I ever did before.

No surprise, given that whether, when, and what quality of evacuations my baby makes are the best indicator of her health. So from birth on, all doctors, nurses, and grandmothers who talk to you about how your baby is doing are interested in her diapers.

The other day some friends (who do not have a baby themselves) were over. I saw Eme make the face (you know, the red, teeth-clenched, "I just made a surprise for you" face). Without considering my audience, I lifted her so that her bottom was at my nose height and had a good sniff.

To the credit of my friends (they could have gasped in horror), their response was, "you know you're a parent when you don't think twice about smelling your baby to see if there's something in her diaper."

That is merely the first in a long line of things I never pictured myself doing. (I have another whole blog post planned on things I never thought I'd say.) Here are a few more -- many of you will have seen me do these things, but I hope the list will entertain you anyway.

Things I didn't know I'd start to do once I became a mommy:

• Smell my baby's bottom, even in public, and enjoy it (not the stinkiness so much as the smell of a baby)
• Run to the window at the sound of a truck or bus (holding Eme, of course; I wouldn't want her to miss seeing a good truck)
• Put food in my mouth before putting it in my baby's (to bite it in half, suck off too much sauce, or just make sure it's not too hot for her tongue)
• Eat leftover food that she has mashed and mangled because I feel bad wasting food (my guilty secret is that sometimes I throw it away anyway when she's really squished everything together and I just can't imagine putting it in my mouth)
• Clean off my baby's hands by sucking on them (that scene in Baby Mama where Maura Tierney's character asks her son whether the brown spot on his arm is poop or chocolate, and then licks it off of his arm and says "it's chocolate" -- that's what I mean. Tina Fey responds with "What if it had been poop?!" -- so true, but the point was that it doesn't matter, as a mommy I'd probably check anyway.)
• Dance around my living room with abandon every morning (Eme does it, and her enthusiasm is contagious)
• Spend hours thinking about the perfect outfit....for Eme. Even though she's too young to remember what she wore for her first dinner with her friend, who is also too young to pay attention to what she's wearing.
• Go out of my house with a tiny handprint made from blueberry yogurt on my shirt and cottage cheese in my hair.
• Run up and down the street to make Eme laugh (she thinks running is funny)
• Pretend to sneeze 10 times in a row to make Eme laugh (sneezes are also funny to her)
• Jump around and make chimp noises to make Eme laugh (thanks, Dr. Hamrick!)
  
• This last one is something I saw Andreas do (Happy Birthday, Andreas) that I can't imagine he ever thought of doing: trying to get her to lay still for a diaper change, he took her clean diaper and put it on his head to get her to laugh. (She laughs at the craziest stuff....)

When I find myself doing these things, I think that being a parent is part surreal, part too real, part frustrating, and part fantastic.

What have you done that you never thought you'd do as a parent? Or what can you remember your parents doing? Please share...

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Why I'm Suddenly Afraid of an Apocalypse, Among Other Things

What am I doing up at 5 in the morning on a Saturday?

There are a lot of funny things I could say about being a parent, but the truth is that I couldn't get back to sleep because of worrying.

It's like there's a magical screen that blocks your view of all of the terrible things that could happen, and when you become a parent that screen is lifted away so that you can proceed to worry about all of the terrible things in the world and how they'll affect your baby. Some of them are real and some ridiculous, but you worry about all of them.

Yes, the constant fear can be draining (especially in the first few months; after a while you get used to it) but it's probably an evolutionary thing. Or it might be because I read too much and take things too seriously.

Some of the things I have worried/worry about:
1) For the first year of life I was in constant fear that Eme would stop breathing while she slept.
2) I'm always worried that something is going to fall on her head, but now that she's old enough to be the one pulling things down on her head I'm also worried that she's going to break things
3) The first few times I took her out in the stroller (when she was just a tiny little frail thing), I was afraid that a random car would jump the curb and hit us, and I even worked out a plan (it involved me pushing her stroller out of the way and taking the full force of the car myself) for if I ever saw that particular disaster coming
4) I worry about what we feed her -- I don't want to feed her anything unhealthy, and that's no easy task because everyone and their mother has a theory on what is healthy or not
5) I'm afraid that by the time she grows up the combination of disease and financial collapse will have caused an apocalypse and that she is not going to be able to live in comfort but will instead have to survive in a Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome-type world. (I don't think about this one a lot, but it has crossed my mind.)
6) I worry that kids are going to pinch her at the library (but as you know, my fears on this one come from a strong foundation)
7) I'm pretty sure she's going to turn out to be bossy (she's already reminding me of Lucy from Peanuts, and she can't even talk yet)
8) I think more about money now than I ever did before -- how will we pay for her braces, trips abroad, college?
9) I don't think I was ever really afraid of dying before (not that I thought much about it, but just that if I did, I've lived a good life and have people who would care that I was gone), but now I am constantly afraid that something will happen to Andreas and I and Eme will be an orphan. I know there are plenty of people who would take care of her, but who knows what kinds of junk they'd feed her?
10) I worry that coyotes, which have never bothered me before, will all of a sudden decide to show up at my house and make off with my baby, or a tiger from the zoo will break free and Eme will be snatched up in the resulting melee
11) Now I'm starting to worry that if I don't stop writing soon it's going to cause me to think up more things to be afraid of

I rationally know that, from an evolutionary standpoint, a healthy dose of fear keeps us alive. From the standpoint of someone who has just been given the best thing they've ever had, I can't keep myself from waiting for the rug to be pulled out.

Life is now that much more vivid. The fear I feel is stronger than ever because I have more to lose. But the joy I feel is also stronger because there is more to live for and be thankful for.

It's a tricky load to carry as a parent, the fear and the joy, and the constant hoping. One that I didn't understand or appreciate until becoming a parent. One that I never realized my parents were probably going through as my siblings and I grew up (thanks, mom and dad). One that I'm looking forward to learning to balance as Eme and Andreas and I grow as a family.

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