One day, if I’m lucky enough to be a grandmother, I hope I’m physically able to help Camille the way her grandparents help me.
Each time they visit, they swoop in and manage to take care of Camille, me, Lee and the house all at the same time. And then they thank us for letting them come visit.
We’ve had both grandmothers visit this week. My mom was here earlier in the week to watch Camille so she wouldn’t have to go to daycare with diaper rash, and managed keep Cami highly entertained while at the same time, doing 408,793 loads of laundry and cooking us dinner. Alva came this weekend, and we all did a lot of spring cleaning – including finally getting around to painting our master bath. We’re all tired, but I’m feeling much better about the house for now.
We did find some time for fun this weekend too. Yesterday was blistering hot, so we decided a trip to the neighborhood spray pool was in order. Camille loved walking back and forth through the arcs of water (holding on to my hands of course), and was especially excited when Grammy would swing her in the air through the stream.
Then tonight, Jayme and Jolene came to visit, and we finally got to meet their 3 month old, Lucas. He is so cute, but I was really struck by how small he looked next to Miss Camille. At dinner, while he wanted to be cuddled close to mom, Camille was busy eating pasta and talking and laughing and entertaining us all. When did she get so big?
I love aquariums, and I can only imagine how huge and exciting they must seem to a baby. Floor to ceiling glass, like the biggest TV they’ve ever seen, showing a brightly-colored, constant motion nature show.
Last weekend, we visited friends in Fayetteville, and made a trip to the Georgia Aquarium on Saturday. The crowds were huge, but the exhibits were awesome and worth the wait. Camille loved standing on the floor with her palms on the glass, watching the fish dart past.
And if the crowds became overwhelming, or slowed down our tour, she had Curtis and Ansley there to keep her company and give her kisses.
The aquarium was amazing, but was only one part of a very good trip. At home, I can’t really relax because we haven’t babyproofed our house yet – in part because of the impending move. But not only do Allen and Missy have 3 children, Missy runs an in-home daycare, so their home is the ultimate in kid-friendly. We didn’t even have to take a pack and play – they had a crib ready and waiting in our room.
It took me a few minutes to realize I didn’t have to chase Camille around the house. She was happy and safe even with me sitting on the couch with a glass of wine. And she had 3 other children there to entertain her and keep her busy. Zoe is only about a month younger, and the two were ADORABLE together. I hope to have some pictures of them to post soon. The trip really felt like a vacation. Allen and Missy are so easy going, and their home was a perfect place to relax, watch the babies play, and catch up with friends.
Then, we arrived home to another treat – a visit from Nana. Even though the timing was less than ideal for her, she made the trip down here to help care for Camille. We weren’t ready to send her back to daycare because of her diaper rash, so she got some good Nana spoiling. And I got spoiled too – my laundry was finally done, my belly was filled, and my dishes were washed. Nana left today, and we’re all moping. But the good news is, we’ll see lots of family and friends next week for the big birthday bash! I can’t wait!
I took a sick day yesterday to be with Miss Camille, who has the worst case of diaper rash in recorded history. She needed to be at home with me so I could take care of her, but since she’s not contagious, we got to spend some time out of the house, exploring.
I decided it was time for her first trip to the library. I have very fond memories of the library. I remember pouring through books as a child, mastering those summer library reading programs. I love the sound of the plastic protective wrappers, crinkling when you open a library book – I don’t know why, I guess it just evokes good feelings.
We sat down in front of a long shelf of children’s books. I thumbed through a few, looking for something Camille might enjoy, while she busied herself pulling mountains of books off the shelf and into her lap.
A particular title caught my eye. “Mommy and Me By Ourselves Again,” by Judith Vigna. Curious, I pulled it down and flipped through it. The story is about a little girl who is sad because her mommy just broke up with boyfriend Gary. It’s the girl’s birthday, and she hopes Gary will call. Didn’t Gary love her too? Was it all her fault that they broke up? She had hoped Gary would live with them like Daddy did before the divorce.
I don’t know why I was surprised to find such a book. A look inside also revealed the titles of some of her other books. “She’s Not My Real Mother.” “Saying Goodbye to Daddy.” “I Wish Daddy Didn’t Drink So Much.” “My Big Sister Takes Drugs.” “Daddy’s New Baby.”
These books were really sad. They didn’t have fairytale endings. The first book I looked at, the one about boyfriend Gary – he didn’t call. He didn’t care. The book ends with the little girl having to learn that not everyone keeps their promises, but that she can still count on her mom and grandparents.
But these books are sad because so many children can identify. They reminded me how lucky I was that they weren’t on my list of summer must-reads when I was a child.
Camille and I picked a few more upbeat selections like, “Where Does the Brown Bear Go?” and my favorite, “Mouse Mess.” I used the self-checkout machine, and while I was scanning our books, the machine was pelted by a paper ball. I ignored it. Until it began to rain paper balls.
There was a balcony above me, and several young girls were peering over the edge, watching me juggle Camille and four books, and tossing paper balls at me. I couldn’t decide if I was angry or sad. Probably both. I was angry that they had such little respect for the library and for me. But I was sad because they’d probably just been dumped at the library by someone who was too busy to supervise them. Too busy to care. I’m sure I was feeling extra sensitive after reading through some of those Judith Vigna books, but I just felt sorry for them.
In my bossiest, grown up voice, I told them to please not throw paper. I told them it wasn’t nice to litter in the library. They giggled.
So, our first visit to the library was a little bit of a downer. But I’m sure we’ll be back often, and I hope we’ll create some better memories.
Camille got spoiled. I got spoiled. We all got spoiled when Aunt Erin was in town last week.
She came up from Miami and spent almost a whole week with us, and it was so great to have her here. We went to the beach, we did a little house hunting, a little shopping, and some good eating.
She and Alva were brave enough to try a new restaurant with us. I’d heard about it through a friend who said it was a quirky little place by the river where you can get good, fresh, local seafood. When we pulled up, I really began to have my doubts. The tin roof was rusting, the walls hadn’t been painted in years, and the building looked a little too at home next to the neighboring bait shop. It was hard to tell them apart. But the food was actually good, as was the service. We’ll be going back there again. Camille really liked the grilled cheese.
While Erin was here, we played a lot too!
I love this pic we snapped while playing in one of the playgrounds in Forsyth Park. We were lucky enough to be the only ones in it at the time. Camille usually only plays on the swings, because the playsets have always been crowded with older children who might trample her. But since we had this one all to ourselves, Camille enjoyed crawling through the plastic tunnel with Aunt Erin. The tunnel has little holes in the sides -perfect for taking a picture (or trying to grab the camera).
Erin fits into our home so effortlessly. Her visits always give me a glimpse of how great it would be to live in the same city, and makes me miss her more. But, I’m glad that despite the miles, we are still close in all the important ways.
Six years! 6! VI!
Saturday, Lee and I celebrated our six year anniversary. As I was looking for a good picture to accompany this blog entry, I realized we hadn’t taken a picture of just the two of us in a while. This is the most recent one we have. We took it ourselves – one of those where each of us holds one side of the camera and you just hope you’re aiming well. We have plenty of pictures of one of us with Camille, and several of the three of us, but not many of just the two of us.
I’m not complaining. This year has been wonderful, as our family grew from two to three. I love sharing marriage with Lee more than ever before, but now I also get to enjoy sharing parenthood with him. I adore him as a husband and as my child’s father.
But, we still occasionally need time to focus on just us. Which is why I was so excited that Grammy and Aunt Erin were in town Saturday, and agreed to stay with Camille while we spent the night out on Tybee.
We all went to the beach together during the day, and had so much fun. Camille really enjoyed crawling around in the shallow water that lapped up on the beach. She laughed and laughed when we took her into slightly deeper water and helped her jump over the small waves.
When the afternoon grew late, Alva and Erin packed her up and we said our goodnights. I was actually a little surprised that I felt sad as they pulled away. Lee and I have never left her with anyone else overnight, but we were still close enough to home that I didn’t think I’d feel Cami-sick. But I did. We both did.
But, I was still excited about spending an evening just focusing on the Ginger-Lee part of the family. We enjoyed a nice seafood dinner and spent most of the evening swinging in a hammock on the 3rd floor deck of our B&B. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and a cool breeze was blowing off the water. The moon was bright, and the company was perfect.
These six years have been wonderful. Life has ups and downs, of course, but Lee is my constant. And I’m so glad he’s sharing his life with me and with our family. I love him very much.
Hello sweet pea, and Happy 11 month birthday! I can hardly believe that this time a year ago, we had just bought your rocking chair. The very chair I rocked you in tonight. We were so excited and so ready to meet you, and that was before we even knew how wonderful you would be.
As I rocked you tonight, your room kept erupting in light and noise from a thunderstorm. I wondered if it would bother you – they usually either happen in the afternoon, or later at night after you’re already sound asleep. After the first flash of lightening and roll of thunder, you looked around for the source, but not seeing anything interesting, you ignored the rest of the storm.
I wonder when we start getting scared of that sort of thing? I remember being terrified of storms as a girl. I’d creep into my parents bedroom and wrap myself up in the comforter they’d discarded on the floor. I’d sleep in my little cocoon at the foot of their bed – half the time they didn’t even know I was there until morning. But it made me feel so much safer to be in the room with them.
When you’re older, I wonder if you’ll come creeping into our room when the weather gets rough? If so, that’ll be okay. I always hope you’ll feel like your Daddy and I are a safe haven. Somewhere you can always go when you’re scared. A place where you know you’re loved and secure.
You’re another month older today, sweet angel, and about 10 times busier – I didn’t think it was possible! Sometimes it seems the second your body touches the ground, you take off so fast it appears you’ve been catapulted across the room. My role has definitely changed from Entertainer to Supervisor. I just sit back and watch you go. We’ve been working on the word “no,” because you’re starting to get into things that I know you shouldn’t. At first, you responded beautifully because I think the tone of our voices surprised you. After you discovered we weren’t going to morph into monsters and eat you, you began testing us. Reaching a little longer, a little further, even after we’d said no. But eventually, you listen to us. So far.
You’re also very busy at baby school. The other day, when I walked in to pick you up, I had to step around an obstacle course of baby toys strewn across the room. I had scooped you up and was chatting with the daycare worker when another employee walked in the room.
He stopped when he saw the toy deluge and asked, “What happened?”
The other daycare worker answered simply, “Camille.”
She went on to explain that you single-handedly removed all the toys from the shelves that afternoon. The other babies helped spread the toys around the room while you tried to climb into the now empty bookcase to play. I wasn’t surprised, because you still love to unpack anything and everything – and that apparently includes your baby school shelves.
This month you had your first real opportunities to play in water that didn’t involve a bath. Last weekend, you had your first dip in a real pool, and I’m so happy to say you loved it. I have always enjoyed water – pools, oceans, even sprinklers in the backyard – whatever water I could get into. I hope you continue to be a little water baby, because that’s something we can enjoy together through the years.
I’d bought you a little inflatable ring, and we put you in it while playing in the 1 foot deep baby pool. You were adorable. You used the ring to keep your head above water while your little feet were busy pushing you all around the pool. You were moving so quickly I could barely keep up!
You also had your first taste of ice cream last weekend! Granddaddy had been waiting for this moment for 11 months, and we finally felt that your little digestive system was ready for the treat. You had some good old Blue Belle Vanilla. Your verdict? Yummy. More please.
You had your first golf cart ride, and seemed to enjoy the wind in your hair as we zipped all around Nana and Granddaddy’s neighborhood. I can imagine when you’re older, you’ll beg to drive it. The thought of that made my knuckles turn white as I gripped the arm of the bench. My heart’s not quite ready to picture you behind the wheel of anything all by yourself, so I’ll postpone that anxiety for a while.
Just a few days ago, you started clapping, and I think it’s the cutest thing any baby has ever done. Ever. Your Daddy and I cheer every time you do it, so you clap a lot now. You’ll clap in your highchair after I give you a bite of something particularly tasty. Last night, you were fighting sleep, and just as you started to drift off, you began clapping. I think you were using applause to help keep yourself awake, and I had to choke back a laugh. Today, when your Daddy and I appeared at the door of your baby school to pick you up, your eyes got big and you started clapping. It was perfect. I nearly bowed.
Your hair is starting to get a little longer, but it’s still baby fine and has a mind of it’s own. But a couple of weeks ago I made an attempt at a pony tail. The result was pretty hilarious. I love this picture I snapped of you with your pony tail sticking straight up in the air. We call this kind of smile your “nose scrunch” smile, because you smile so big your little nose gets all scrunched up. That’s when we know you’re really, really happy. Thank you for all the nose scrunches we’ve enjoyed this month!
Your Daddy has been hard at work tonight designing your birthday invitations – can you believe it? I’m so excited about your special day. It’s a wonderful opportunity to bring people together to celebrate the wonder that is YOU. But while your birthday will be a momentous occasion, I want to celebrate you every day. You’re just that special.
Sleep well angel. Always remember how much I love you.
Hello sweet pea! Did you know today is a special day? It’s your Daddy’s first Father’s Day, and whether you realized that or not, you sure did give him lots of sweet hugs and smiles. And I’m glad you did, because baby girl, he deserves them!
Uncle Trent just sent you a onesie in the mail. It’s from the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and it says on the front, “My Daddy Rocks!” These are true words in 2 ways. Your Daddy loves music, and your Daddy rocks as a daddy.
How do I know your Daddy loves you?
Well, he tells you all the time, but that’s not the only way I know. He loves spending time with you, and one of your favorite Daddy-Daughter treats is the guitar. He keeps his acoustic in your nursery, and the two of you play nearly every day.
He lets you pluck the strings for a bit, then he serenades you while you watch. You just started clapping this weekend, and tonight, you applauded while he strummed and sang. It was adorable. He even brings the guitar along for your bath sometimes, singing to you while you splash.
I know he loves you because he’s always there for you, even when it’s not fun. He’s been to almost all of your doctor’s appointments, holding your little hands and comforting you if you cry.
I know he loves you because he gets up in the morning to play with you. Baby girl, this is a big deal. He is NOT a morning person. In the beginning, things worked out nicely because you’d go back to sleep after I fed you. While I got ready for work, you and Daddy would snooze together in bed for a little bit.
But a couple of months ago, you decided that after breakfast, you were ready to play! This was hard for Daddy at first, because it meant no morning snooze. But every day he throws back the covers anyway, even though he’d like to sleep until noon if he could, and the two of you play while I get ready for the day.
For several months, after Mommy had to go back to work, your Daddy kept you at home. This wasn’t easy, being a full-time stay at home Dad and a full-time business owner. At times it seemed impossible. But he did this because he loves you and wanted to keep you at home as long as we could. He also knew how much I missed you when I was at the office, so nearly every day he’d send me a photo of the two of you. A photo like this one:
Do you know how else I know your Daddy loves you? This weekend, we took you swimming in a pool for the first time. We were in Tennessee visiting Nana and Granddaddy, and took you down to the community pool. I was very excited about seeing your reaction, but when I stuck my toe in the water, I gasped. It was so cold. So very cold. Very, very cold.
I really didn’t think you’d like it, and I wasn’t sure I was brave enough to get in the water. But your Daddy, without hesitation, climbed in. I handed you to him, and despite the chilly water, you felt safe and content there in your Daddy’s arms. He eased you into the pool, and you LOVED IT!
I eventually got in the water too, but it was your Daddy who was brave enough to jump in, not even knowing if you’d be willing to follow.
And do you know how I know you love your Daddy? Well, you light up when he walks into the room. If he’s not looking at you, sometimes you’ll start squealing in his direction until you get his attention. You laugh when he tickles your toes under the highchair. You love to copy him when he’s making funny faces (which happens a lot!):
And how else do I know you love your Daddy? Tonight, when I was getting video of you playing in your room, you even told me so yourself.
Baby girl, we are both so lucky to have your Daddy in our lives. And I’m excited for you. I have always been close to my Daddy (your Granddaddy!), and that relationship has meant so much to me. Little girls and big, grown-up girls need their Daddys, and I know you need your Daddy too. And I’m happy because I know he’s right there for you, nibbling your toes, kissing your cheeks, and showing you every day how much he cares.
After spending several weekends traveling, Lee, Camille and I have had the last couple of weekends at home. It’s been wonderful, but has also caused an old, familiar longing to resurface. I need a group of moms and babies to play with on weekends.
I’ve been trying to put myself out there, but so far with less than positive results. There is a mom I run into sometimes at baby school, and she recently said we should get together. I gave her my number, and last weekend, she said we should go to the museum Sunday. She said she’d call.
Sunday, I looked forward to our baby play date. After church, I kept my cell phone close waiting for her call. It never came. I’d like to say it didn’t bother me, but it did. As the day grew later, I grew more disappointed. Finding new friends feels like dating, and I got stood up.
Monday, I saw her at daycare and she didn’t mention it. I didn’t know what to say, and didn’t have the courage to say what I felt. Instead, she said we needed to get together, and asked if I wanted to meet her at the spray pool in my neighborhood park this weekend. I shrugged, not sure what to say, not wanting to get my feelings hurt again.
The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if I’d misunderstood. Maybe we didn’t really have museum plans. Maybe she didn’t think the date was set. I felt a little foolish to have been waiting for her call, and didn’t want her to think I was desperate. So the next day, I said I’d love to meet her in the park Saturday. She said she’d call.
I got her number this time so I could check in. About 30 minutes before we were supposed to meet, I called. A delay. Her baby had been playing hard and needed a nap. “And it’s really hot outside…” Sounded like she was looking for an out. We pushed our date back a little, but just a few minutes later she called me back to cancel.
I’m sad to say I was crushed. Camille was slathered in sunscreen and dressed in her swimsuit ready to go, yet this mom didn’t seem to think it was important to keep our date. I mean, who wouldn’t want to play with this sweet girl?
Determined not to let her cancellation get me down, Camille and I set off for the spray pool on our own. I was going to keep a positive attitude, dammit!
But when I pulled up to the park, I couldn’t believe it. The spray pool was not on. The concrete was dry. And hot. WHY WOULD THE CITY TURN OFF THE SPRAY POOL ON A HOT SATURDAY AFTERNOON? To spite me.
Discouraged, I drove home. But I knew I had to make use of Camille’s swimsuit and sunscreen, so I opened her new inflatable baby pool. I searched for our bicycle pump, but couldn’t find it. It was up to me and my lungs.
This was my “Clark” moment from the movie Vacation. The whole family had been traveling across country for vacation, and the trip had taken so many wrong turns. At one point, the whole family is begging Clark to just turn around. Just go home and hang it up. Clark snaps, and in a maniacal tone says, “We’re gonna have so much fun they’re gonna need plastic surgeons to remove the smiles from our faces! We’ll be whistling zippity-doo-dah out of our ass holes!”
That’s all I could think about while I was blowing up her pool. I was hurt. Disappointed. But I was determined we were going to have fun, no matter what.
Fortunately, that’s when the day took an upswing. I filled the pool, and Camille loved it. We played and played.
Every minute I spent with that smiling face lifted my spirits. Then, the babysitter came over and Lee I went on a dinner and movie date. We discovered a great new restaurant, and enjoyed holidng hands through a funny movie.
Yeah, that mom hurt my feelings. But thanks to my sweet family, a real bummer of a day turned into a great afternoon.
For the first 9 months of Camille’s life, I listened with sympathy to friends whose babies were struggling with ear infections, all the while grateful we’d been spared the problem. I’d heard that babies often either get chronic ear infections, or hardly get them ever, and I felt we were qualifying for the latter, fortunate category.
I’d taken her to the doctor a couple of times when she’d had a set of fussy days to be sure her ears weren’t infected. I paid lots of co-pays to be told, “Nope, her ears looks fine.”
Then in April, I heard the dreaded, “Uh-oh,” while the doctor was peering into her little ears. “Yep, this one’s infected. So is this one.”
We got our prescription for antibiotic, her first ever, and I waited for her to get better. She improved some, but never really seemed completely comfortable. We took her back, and she still had lots of fluid in her ears. A couple of weeks later, they were infected again. More, different antibiotic.
We finished that antibiotic Monday, but Tuesday she just didn’t seem like herself. So I took her back to the doctor, and sure enough, they were still infected. The antibiotics hadn’t worked, so they had to bring out the big guns in the form of an antibiotic shot.
I hate shots. I loathe shots. I am terrified of shots and especially don’t like it when she has to get one. So it didn’t help that everyone we encountered said, “Oh, poor thing. This shot really hurts.” And it wasn’t just one, she had to have three shots – one a day for three days in a row.
It was terrible having to get up every morning, knowing I was about to take her back there to hold her down while they injected the medicine. But she is such a great little trooper. She cried during the shot (which can’t be done very quickly because the medicine is thick), but as soon as I picked her up she quited. She even let the nurse hold her afterward. I think Camille took the whole thing better than I did.
The good news is that the doctor looked in her ears yesterday just before the third shot and said she already saw marked improvement. I hope this does the trick, because otherwise we may be in for a visit with a specialist to talk about more invasive solutions. Thinking back over the last 2 months, I feel very fortunate to have such a good-natured little girl who is still happy and fun despite lingering ear infections. Sure, she had her moments, but a majority of the time she has been charming and sweet. Lucky mama.
It’s not like I spent hours in the kitchen, carefully preparing a fine, delicate dish or anything. But Miss Camille LOVED the spaghetti I made for lunch, and I was flattered. I guess it wasn’t technically spaghetti – it was spaghetti sauce and hamburger meat, but I used rotini instead of spaghetti noodles because they’re easier for her to pick up.
Camille gobbled up the pasta so quickly I barely had time to cut up the next piece before she was asking for more. I can never put much on her tray at once, because she’ll shove it all in her mouth until it’s so full she can’t even chew. But if I paused to take a bite and left her tray empty, she’d protest by slamming her hands on the tray. Impatient? Yes. Adorable? Absolutely. Lee got this video of my happy but hungry eater:
