Tulip Toad - Saga Six with Streit

In honor of Mother's Day, I thought I'd share a fun short story written by my mom.  No doubt, a tribute to me, her No. 6.  Or at least I like to think I was her inspiration...  Happy Mother's Day to all; especially to my Momma.

Another in a continuing series of dramatic vignettes…

Tulip Toad - Saga Six with Streit

Written By 

Georgia H. Nichols

Her mind wasn’t on the outdated “People” magazine she was idly thumbing through as she waited for her turn to see the doctor. 

“I’ll kill myself if I’ve gained any weight this time.  I haven’t even had an appetite, and the rabbit food I do eat sure can’t produce any pounds.  Let’s see, I wore the lightest weight clothing I own and made sure I went to the bathroom first.  Plus I haven’t had as much as a drink of water in the last 22 hours.  Maybe I even lost”

“Tulip Toad?  This way please.”  The nurse led the procession of two to the weigh-in room.

Tulip exuded confidence as she stepped onto the scales.  But her momentary elation was short lived.  The pound weight pushed the bar down at 134, 135, then 136.  The nurse flicked it a few more increments and it rose only a fraction before the weight bar balanced.  “One thirty six and three quarters.”  Four pounds in three weeks—again!

The dazed patient reeled as she stepped backward off the scales.  “Impossible,” she wanted to scream.  “A recheck, please!”

But she had seen the scale herself.  Could it be that there was some kind of conspiracy to make her depressed every time she visited the doctor?  A four pound jump every time was beginning to sound suspicious.

Tulip was numb as she followed the nurse down the hall to the examining room.  Where had those pounds come from?  She was still numb as she stumbled onto the table and mentally reviewed the weight progress in the five previous pregnancies.  At this present rate she could top out at 180 pounds and be a blimp for the rest of her life.  Before, she had been upset with a weight gain of a pound or two and an occasional jump of five pounds but this was too much.  She thought of her husband’s attempts to console her.

“Don’t worry.  I’ve head all of this before and the weight has just dropped off after the baby is born.  It will again.”

But things were different now.  She was 36—and over the hill.  An old woman.

Tulip ruminated over the two alternatives she might employ to get rid of the hated pounds: never eat again or take a knife and cut out a pound of flesh here and there.  Neither sounded like a plausible solution.

Her thoughts were still picturing herself in the before photo of an Ayds ad, when Dr. Streit came into the room and began checking uterus size and listening for the baby’s heartbeat.  “Just about right for 20 weeks,” he announced when he had finished.  “Everything seems fine.” 

“But I’m not 20 weeks.  I’m only about 14,” Tulip intercepted.

“Hmmmm.”  The doctor looked at her chart again.  “Let me take another check.”  This time the probing was more intense.

“Maybe there really is some reason I’ve gained so much weight,” Tulip silently hoped as she waited for the doctor’s second observation.

“First of all,” the doctor began, “an oversized uterus is not uncommon in pregnancy.  It doesn’t mean twins, or even that you’ll deliver early.  It’s just a condition we see from time to time.”

“But I also weigh more at this point in any of my previous pregnancies.”  Tulip seized on that thought hoping it clarified the situation.

“Doesn’t mean a thing.  See you in three weeks,” the doctor reminded her as he left the room.  The door closed.

She’d heard it all before.  So she was just fat after all.  It didn’t seem fair.  It wasn’t fair, she was starving!  Another agonizing three weeks ahead of her.  “Yeah, and since I’m going to weigh 145 pounds by then I intend to eat hearty and enjoy myself.”  Her words bounced off the walls.

Tulip couldn’t resist a wicked glance at the scales as she walked to the receptionist’s desk.  Two could play the weight game as well as one could.  Next time there would be a reason for the four pounds.  Already she was beginning to look forward to supper. 

This Kid is Eight Months Old. EIGHT Months!

Shortly after Roosevelt was born my mom asked me if I could remember what life before Ro was like.  With zero hesitation I answered, "yes!"  Those first several weeks were difficult.  It was hard adjusting to my new life.  It was hard learning the ropes of parenthood.  It was hard taking care of a new baby.  So of course it was easy for me to remember what things were like before Ro.  And admittedly, there were some times - very few - that I actually longed for things to return to how they were before.  Of course I didn't want to lose Ro, so I knew those memories were to be just that - memories.  But here we are eight months later and I can barely imagine life pre-Ro.  How did Wyatt and I survive, just the two of us?  Parenthood, though still very difficult, has been the most rewarding thing I've attempted.  

It seems as if Ro is slowly coming out of his shell.  When strangers speak to him, instead of staring at them like his old-self used to do, he actually smiles back!  Of course every time he does, each stranger squeals with delight.  I know I'm his mom, but it is pretty cute.  In fact he generally tends to smile more than he used to.  Maybe it's just a phase...maybe this is the new Ro.  Either way, it's been a lot of fun to watch.  

Papa Lou

Ro and I flew to Colorado to visit family again.   It was a really good visit.  I helped my mom prepare for her garage sale, along with cataloging some items she purchased in East Germany while my family lived in Berlin.  I'll be posting those on eBay.  Since we were so busy working, I didn't venture far from her house.  Which was really nice since doing anything with a baby is a million-times harder.  Or more accurately, I'm a million-times more lazy now that I have a baby.  

 Aunt Judy and Uncle Brice

 Cousin Cameron (it is soooo cute to watch my niece play with Ro.  Totally uncharacteristic of her.)

Ro was in love with my sister's dog, Butterfly.  She was tolerant with little interest.  She'd let him "pet" her if he was near her.  Which really is quite remarkable since she has very short hair and Ro has a pretty tight grip.  So pretty much it was Ro grabbing wads of her skin in his tiny hand.  Truthfully, we had a bit of a love triangle going.  For whatever reason Butterfly had taken a liking to me.  I couldn't care less about her, I was just interested in what Ro was up to... And of course, Ro didn't care about me.  He just wanted to be near the dog.  That dog.  She totally reminds me of the dog from the Amazing Stories episode, The Family Dog.  She is so skittish.  

 Grandpa and Grandma Nichols

Aunt Burgandy 

Ro's top teeth are really coming in.  I was right about his incisors, they are growing.  Though Wyatt retracted his statement last month and agreed that it looked as if they were cutting through the gums.  You can't really see any of his top teeth until he gives you a giant grin.  And even then, you have to be at the right angle.  Otherwise it's only the bottom teeth you notice.  

Momma G 

Ro listening to Momma G serenade him 

And shortly after I said that Ro wasn't making any consonant sounds...he whipped out his B's.  It's currently his favorite letter.  

Swim lessons were canceled last week.  And we had Wyatt to ourselves(!).  So we decided to take advantage of the family swim time at the local community pool.  Which as it turns out we practically had the whole place to ourselves!   Ro still loves the water.  This time his favorite part was being able to standup in the water, holding onto the one-foot ledge.  He loved this! 

Notice Ro's hair?  It's super fine and toe-head that you can hardly tell he has any until you're up close.  Only when it's wet can you tell he has any from a distance.  I was a toe-head too when I was a baby.  Imagine that.  

With the anticipation of nice weather, we bought a bike seat for Ro.  He wasn't sure what to think about it.  I think after a few more goes, he's really going to love it.  At least he better.  The swim park opens in five weeks!!!  How else are we going to get there?

Man Cub

Ro has a handful of nicknames; Ro, Robot, Roboat, Panda Ro (Momma G's favorite), Sleepy, Stinky, Sweetie, Baby Doll, Babe, and the most recent addition - Man Cub.  We (mostly me - and Ro since he has to do what I want to do) have been digg'n the Disney Channel on Pandora lately.  I've surprised myself at how much I've enjoyed the songs from The Jungle Book.  I have never seen the movie...and I never had the desire to watch it.  That is until recently.  Anyway, that's where Man Cub is derived from.  Wyatt started calling Ro it first...and then I followed suit.  

Our little Man Cub is becoming more and more adventurous.  As compared to his usual self.  We can tell that he desperately wants to crawl...but he has no idea that it is crawling that he wants to do.  He just gets frustrated when he's stuck at point A and wants to get to point B.  Usually he just lunges himself forward as he's sitting on the ground.  He does do a lot of standing - but then, that's nothing new.  Since the day he was born, every time we pick him up, he stretches his feet straight below him with his knees locked.  He is slowly learning how to pull himself up onto things, though he's still in the preliminary stages of doing that.  And if we stand him in front of things - like the coffee table, or the railings on his crib - he'll use those to shuffle himself side-to-side.  So, we'll see if our Man Cub decides to walk before he decides to crawl.

Ro is officially a sleeping-through-the-night baby.  I knew it.  Very shortly after I wrote about my woes in the last post, Ro decided to give me a break.  Hallelujah!!!  Though now he's into waking up early.  Or earlier than I want to wake up.  Will I ever be satisfied?!  If it's not one thing, it's another.  Geesh.  He's been waking up between 6:30am and 7:00am.  To be truthful, I don't really mind that much.  I'm just a little frustrated since I was hoping to be running, alone, at that time in the morning.  In hopes to return before he wakes and before Wyatt needs to leave for school.

No doubt it's the Four-Thirty birds (as in 4:30am) that disrupt our little Man Cub's slumber.  Wyatt and I "affectionately" call them the Four-Thirty birds because that's what time they start chirping.  (Actually, it's closer to 5am, but what's the difference when it's that early in the morning?)  It seems so convenient that they stop chirping by 7:30am.  I am not kidding!  It is seriously like they have an on/off switch.  At 7:29am we'll hear, "chirp, chirp, chirp, chirp," and then at 7:30am it'll be dead silence.  Though, they don't chirp so much as they squeak the way a window does when it's being cleaned.  And there's probably hundreds of them squeaking...in the tree right outside our window.  And they probably each have their own megaphone.  Okay, that's a lie...the tree isn't right outside our window.  It's on the other side of the parking lot.

Anyway, back to Ro.  Still no recognizable consonant sounds from his lips.  For a while he was making soft dinosaur noises, little "roars" if you will.  It was pretty cute.  But recently he's transitioned into making that gasping noise when he inhales.  The noise one makes when they're surprised/appalled/shocked?  It's a bit odd, but hey, whatever makes him happy!

Ro is in the process of growing his upper teeth.  They pushed through the bone last week.  I could tell because he was pretty fussy.  Poor little Nipper (that's what Wyatt's mom likes to say).  Just today they started poking through the gums.  It almost looks like his incisors are on their way too.  At least that's what I think...Wyatt, not so much.  Who's the dentist?!  Really.

Ro officially likes swim lessons!  Just today as he was floating on his back, he sported a sweet little smile.  And just to make sure that everyone was clear on his opinion, he smiled again at the instructor while she did some one-on-one float time with him.  What a cutie!  And (!) he does a great job at floating sans water wings!  The teacher always complements him on what a great job he does.  And just today she said that he's got it down and is ready to advance to the next class.  I in turn am beaming with pride!  Eventually, the point is to teach him to instinctively roll-over to his back if ever he finds himself face in the water.  He's still got a ways to go... I wanted Ro to take lessons for that reason, and I also wanted him to learn to not be afraid of the water.  Or rather, learn how to be confident - but cautious - in the water.

And in the spirit of "keeping it real," I thought I'd share a few things of the most evident emotion I've had since Ro's been born: GUILT.  Here is a sampling of some of the things I feel guilty about since I've become a parent:

• Running with Ro
• Running without Ro
• Not giving Ro one-hundred percent of my attention during his every waking moment
• Not having "quality" interaction with Ro (i.e. reading books, singing songs, et cetera)
• Leaving Wyatt to do my "job" while I'm running/socializing/churching (note, Wyatt has never, in no way, ever eluded that he feels like he's left to do my "job.")
• Taking Ro to the grocery store
• Talking on the phone while Ro's awake
• Texting while Ro's awake
• Computering while Ro's awake
• Knowingly keeping Ro up past his nap/bedtime because we're in the midst of doing something I want to do
• Doing anything I want to do while Ro is awake (i.e. hobby)

I remember before Ro was born, before I was pregnant, I'd imagine my life with children.  I imagined myself sewing while my baby sat on the floor near me, playing with its toys...  Ha!  That has NEVER happened!  Why, because of guilt.  If I ever toy with the idea of leaving Ro to himself, while I do something recreational (i.e. sewing.  Dishes, laundry, and cooking don't count since they're not fun and they "need to be done."), I push it out of my mind.  Mostly because of this.  Let me clarify that I am not saying my religion gives me guilt.  I don't feel that way in the least.  Rather it's the concept that if I don't spend quality time with Ro - my children - I'm going to regret it.  It's not that I don't want to spend quality time with Ro - I do.  It's just that I haven't figured out how to spend quality time with a seven-month-old for eight-hours a day, seven days a week.  Maybe I'll have figured it out by next post...

One last thing about Man Cub.  He is not a cuddler.  I remember my mom told me, before Ro was born, that my oldest brother wasn't a cuddler.  And how she used to pick him up while he was asleep, just so she could hold him close without him wiggling to get out.  I have thought about doing the same thing with Ro from time-to-time.  Anyway, he came down with a cold a few weeks ago and was feeling pretty uncomfortable with a fever.  So I stripped him down to his diaper, gave him a dose of Tylenol, and held him upright on my chest to try and help the fluids flow down.  Ro resisted at first but finally gave in...  I made Wyatt snap this picture because it is such a rare occasion.  I guess that's another thing we can add to my guilt list; feeling slightly glad my baby was feeling ill so I could hold him close.  Ro woke twenty-minutes later feeling much better.  Maybe it was the medicine?  I like to think it was some much needed snuggle time.  

The Un-Unbirthday

Here's an interesting fact about Ro, perhaps his first interesting fact.  Ro doesn't have a half-birthday.  Six-months from August 30th puts him with an non-existent February 30th half-birthday.  Which, as it turns out, makes him quite rare.  There are only eight dates (seven, on a leap year) in the calendar year that do not have a corresponding half-birthday.  So, we had to pick a day to celebrate his six-months of life.  We chose March 1st.

Celebrations were at a minimum.  Just the usual monthly photo shoot with Nuper.  Though, Ro decided to pull all stops and celebrate in his own little way.  Right at his six-month birthday, he conquered the techniques of rolling back-to-front,  sitting-up without any support, and (!) growing two teeth (numbers O and P (thanks to his dentist dad for specifying))!  That's right, Ro has toofers!

Ro had his six-month appointment.  He was a real champ with his shots!  He only cried on the second poke in the leg. And even then I think it was more out of surprise then pain since the tears lasted a mere ten-seconds.  As it turns out, our growing boy isn't growing so much anymore.  He measured in at 19lbs 7oz for weight (77%).  27.5-inches tall (79%).  And an 18-inch head (94%).  Though, despite his current plateau in growth, he still has quite a bit of chunkiness.  I just LOVE his Stay Puft thighs!  

I found a Groupon for JC Penney Portrait Studio and decided to follow my friend's lead (of having all her kids' pictures taken at six-months), by getting Roosevelt's picture taken.  This boy is one stubborn kid.  He refused to smile!  There is no doubt he was a bit skeptical of the loud lady taking his picture.  (In her defense, she was doing her job - which is to try and get babies to smile in pictures.)  I think she was the exact opposite of what Ro is used to - quite and calm parents - that he just stared at her.  And he let out a little cry, twice.  Poor kid.  It wasn't until we stripped him down to his diaper that he allowed the corners of his mouth to turn upward.  I was a bit disappointed Ro wasn't willing to share his darling smile with the camera.  Though, the pictures are a great snapshot (imagine that!) of his true personality.  Wyatt calls these pictures his real estate agent/attorney pictures. Maybe I'll make business cards for him...

With Ro's new skills, he has made collecting him from his crib quite interesting.  He loves to move while he sleeps.  His favorite position to sleep in is on his side, up against the slats on the front of his crib - gripping them with his little hands.  It's funny how he has a preference so soon... Considering for the first six-months of his life he slept on his back, with zero movement.  

Speaking of sleep.  Ro still doesn't sleep through the night.  I thought I'd add this in just to add a little "reality" to this blog.  Sometimes I think I portray life as if it's always rosy, pun intended.  There have definitely been some hiccups and challenges since Ro was born.  Sleeping is one of them.  It drives me crazy when people ask me if he's sleeping through the night...because he's not.   He is getting there - most certainly he is.  He will sleep through the night usually one or two times a week.  I'm not sure why he doesn't every night of the week.  Maybe it's because I'm a softy?  I don't know.  I just feel like he is truly hungry sometimes.  Mostly because Ro does know how to put himself to sleep.  I always lay him in his crib awake.  And when he whimpers/whines, I wait a bit to see if he will go back to sleep.   I don't know, maybe I'm fooling myself?  Regardless, I am tired!  I don't think I ever feel rested when I wake in the morning.  Which, to be honest, I don't remember the last time I have felt rested in the morning.  Including pre-Ro and pre-pregnancy days.  So maybe my lack of sleep is my lot in life.  Like I said, it seems like Ro is getting there, so I wouldn't be surprised if he was sleeping through the night by next blog post.

Ro sure loves his dad!  Sometimes I get a little jealous.  Mostly when Ro and Wyatt will be happily playing in his room and then I'll walk in the room and Ro will start to fuss.  This doesn't happen every time.  Just around feeding time.  I've done a good job of conditioning him to associate his room with eating.  And there have been a few times where I'll be done feeding Ro before bed and he starts to cry.  After trying to console him for a bit, I'll lay him in his crib (to let him cry it out - since I know he always falls asleep).  Then Wyatt will waltz into the room to say goodnight to Ro, and swoop him into his arms.  And Ro stops crying!  ...and happily goes into his crib without a peep once Wyatt lays him down.  What a stinker!  Truthfully, I'm okay with it.  I know Ro loves hanging with me all day long and loves the break to spend time with Wyatt.

And speaking of hanging out with me... Roosevelt really does like pandas.  I promise.  I thought it'd be fun to channel this picture.  One of us had a lot of fun.

Lastly, we took Ro on his first hike.  We went to Beacon Rock in Washington.  I didn't know what to expect but was truly surprised to find how much Ro LOVED going on a hike.  He was sporting this grin all the way to the top!  And then it got cold, so he wasn't as thrilled on the return trip down...  Thanks to Wyatt's sister Mya for giving us the carrier.  I'm not sure we would've thought to purchase one otherwise.