Thursday, August 8, 2013

Rule Change

Babies keep you guessing, much like my hair.

The story is the same every time. We say she can't, and she goes and does. This blog is about to become my negative wish-list for Mariana, except she'd figure that nonsense right out. 

If you read the last post, you know it's all been a banquet of fun around here. Mae was literally tearing her hair out, I was figuratively tearing mine out, and we just couldn't get. it. together. So I complained publicly many times to anyone who would listen, or was being paid to listen like the therapists she sees. Many were eager to explore possible sensory issues, which, sorry, no. Therapists see so many sensory problems in kids that they are very quick to explore that avenue first, and while it is their job, I have zero appreciation for it because we don't have that problem, and I don't need to be seeing ghosts right now, you know? You talk about it enough and suddenly the fact that the baby is on her belly flicking a tag under the couch is a clear indication she is "seeking" and all is lost. Except babies are on the floor a lot and notice things we don't, so she's just trying to see what that stupid thing hanging under the couch is, and thinking "Don't any of these idiots see this thing? Y'all need more tummy-time."

Inspektor Baby mustache you a question..
Anyway, I was dreading the Things we Must Introduce portion of this week, but bought a stupid snack-trap and recessed lid sippy anyway. We have, by my estimation, 689 different sippy cups, but none are a recessed lid cup, which is apparently the thing to have.  We had a snack trap back in the day, but your guess is as good as mine as to where that thing is. Anyway, after the OT consult turned into a speech consult, I decided I was going to just try the snack trap. The one I bought is not the hand scratching fool thing of yesteryear. It's all easy-peasy and would probably spill baby snacks all over the car just like an open container, but it's therapy, you guys. It matters. I handed it to her and felt the hair on my neck stand at attention preparing for a fit, and....she took it, looked at it from every angle, reached her fat baby hand in, and pulled out a snack. She used it properly is what I'm saying. Like a regular toddler, all NBD, I got this.

So after a mild-mannered and cooperative day from the artist formerly known as Diva II*, I prepared for a day of normal-for-her behavior. I planned on introducing the sippy, excuse me, recessed lid cup, today. She woke up happy and cooperative again, just to throw me off my game, but like a boss I stuck to my guns. The cup she usually uses is called a Cip-Kup, which is pronounced "sip cup". (I hate weird spellings of words that already exist. It is not, and never will be, cute or clever.) It is very special and important to oral-motor development, has approximately 43 parts and costs $20, plus shipping. It looks like this:

Flax milk and a Cip-Kup; You know that's right.
Today at lunch I switched it up. She was so cute, signing more when she wanted more, signing "All done." when I told her it was all done. She was charming and sweet and I was about to mess it all up for the sake of her advancement toward becoming a tax-payer. I filled the new cup and offered it to her.
So it's cola, but it's organic cola
Now I was so nervous I filled that cup with straight juice. Juice and my kids have a history, and it's not good. You give my kids juice before the age of 4 and they went crazy. I mean, you could have given them coffee and had a more relaxed child on your hands. I've always let them get Sprite or lemonade before we knew about Molly's issues, and they were well behaved, if a little more giggly. But juice, have mercy! I would have rather them mainline pixie stix. 

However, the result was a girl who thinks sip- recessed lid cups are the bees knees. Even after I swiped it away, dumped 2/3 of the juice and filled it with water she loved it. Which is how we know babies are jerks. When you've done accepted the way things are, they up and change the rules.

It's my long lost friend, the recessed lid cup!

*Diva II comes from my sister, La Dee. I'm sure I could explain why we call my sister Diva, or La Dee and variations there of, but it's one of those things that grew organically and would take too long and not be funny in print. But Mae is La Dee Deux, or Diva II, after my sister.





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