Tonight, just after dishing our skillet meal on plates, steaming some vegetables, and getting beverages ready, I quickly mixed up some grub for Breanna. I wasn’t sure if she’d actually eat anything (and actually, she did! Happily!) but I figured it might keep her semi-occupied while we had dinner. And as I stirred the food up for her, I thought of the television show This Is Daniel Cook (side note – the show itself is take it or leave it with me, but their website is awesome if you have young kids; Hayley can spend an eternity over there).

Yesterday, I watched an episode with Hayley, and Daniel was visiting a farm. A woman taught him the proper way to milk a cow, and then discussed the differences between the fresh, whole milk and the kind you buy in a store, as well as all the other things that you can make with the milk. And I suddenly realized that although there is probably a bit of a trial and error process, I bet that any woman who is a mother could successfully milk a cow if she has ever stood in the kitchen and expressed milk into a little pink plastic bowl to add to rice cereal flakes.

Yes, these are indeed the things that my few remaining brain cells gather together to contemplate.

I bet I would rock at milking cows.

When I first heard that there was a blogging book tour going on for Jennifer Margulis‘ book Why Babies Do That, I was interested in getting in on the fun because I thought it was a fascinating alternative for an author rather than going from store to store. I e-mailed her earlier this month to see if she was interested in a virtual stop on my blog and was thrilled that she was.

The book is really great for a number of reasons. For one thing, it’s not long. If there’s anything a new mother learns, it’s that all the parenting books in the world won’t help you if you can’t read it in five-minute bursts. A book that can be read after you run screaming for the bathroom, locking the door behind you for some illusion (delusion?) of privacy is what you need.

For another thing, the images alone can kill you. There will not be a third child in this family, I assure you, but some of the accompanying pictures are so incredibly sweet and endearing that your biological clock may just tick loudly in your head. The picture that goes with the question “Why Do Babies Cry Without Tears?” nearly made my ovaries explode. On the other hand, there’s also an appropriate picture to go along with “Why Do Newborn Babies Have Poop That is Mustard-Colored and Seedy Looking?” so it all evens out in the end.

Finally, the book is useful, unlike most of the parenting books out there. Basically, I think most parents do know that most of the things in this book are perfectly normal (even if they’re bizarre), but the book explains WHY. Even as a second-time-around parent, where it takes a bit more to phase me now, it’s nice to read the reasons behind a baby’s peculiar behavior. As a bonus, it’s a concise answer – each question and answer takes up one page for the most part, occasionally one and a half. There’s no need to read for three chapters to understand why your baby enjoys playing with her own poop, and when you’re sleep deprived, the abridged version is always preferable.

It’s a great book to buy as a baby shower gift but even mothers who have been there and done that will probably enjoy it just as much.

If there’s ever a second edition, say, Even More Why Babies Do That I hope that Ms. Margulis can answer a few more questions. Like, “Why Does My sweet Baby Try to Rip All My Hair Out Of My Scalp?” Or maybe “Why Is Her Only Goal In Life To Tear My Glasses Off My Face And Wing Them At The Ceiling Fan?” And I’d also like to know, “Why Did God Give Babies Fingernails That Are Sharp Enough To Destroy My Face But Too Thin To Cut Adequately?”

A great book overall!

Breanna is just not in love with solids. She likes the idea of food, because she’ll eagerly open her mouth for it, and she’ll try to grab your food too, but once it’s actually in her mouth? Her eager face turns into an expression of horror and she immediately uses her tongue to thrust it all back out. The bananas weren’t a big hit but she will begrudgingly eat a bit of them. Rice cereal? Forget it. You would think I was trying to make her eat tar.

Waiting for the rice, oh so happy!

Oh my GOD, this is what rice cereal tastes like? Are you TRYING TO KILL ME?!

It should be noted though, that although she isn’t impressed by bananas and hates the cereal, she will indeed happily eat the sand at the park. By the fistful. YUMMY!

On the other hand, apparently a lack of solids isn’t slowing her growth down at all since she weighed in at 16 pounds 10 ounces at her checkup today. So, apparently breastmilk weighs a lot. Yay, chunky baby! Both her weight and her height (a little over 27 inches) put her in the 95 percentile. Also, I am so proud of her because she didn’t even whimper when she got her needle and she didn’t cry afterwards; she did give the nurse one very dirty look though. She was a bit warm at bedtime and exhausted, so I gave her some Tempra and I had to re-settle her a few times since she passed out earlier, but she’s doing better than her first shots, let me tell you.

Hayley is almost four years old and at that age, they just don’t tend to think beyond “me me me” (Hayley needs her own blog). So many times I can’t help but think “man are you SELFISH” and then I remind myself that it’s normal at this stage of development. And then sometimes she surprises the hell out of me. George brought her home a chocolate bar, a Kit Kat. She broke it into the four bars and ate one, then picked up a second one and handed it to me and said “here Mommy.” She wanted to share her CHOCOLATE with me, completely unprompted. I had my own in the fridge, waiting for tonight so I said she could eat the whole thing, but it was so sweet of her to offer.

She is also going through a phase of insisting that we call her Red Riding Hood. She occasionally wears a hooded bath towel (I must find or make her a red hooded cape) and prances around with a basket “full of goodies”. Even when we were at the park the other day, every time a kid asked her what her name was she would say “My name is Little Red Riding Hood”. I told her after that maybe she should tell them her real name but ask them to just call her Red. Hee. They were all really accomodating though. I had an entire park full of kids and parents/grandparents doing things like hollering, “Hey Red, good slide!” It was hilarious!

Other days she goes to the park with her tiara so she can be a princess.

Recently:
Sherry: Oh my GOD.
Hayley: What’s wrong Mommy?
Sherry: Look at your room! You pulled all your clothes out of the bottom drawer and tossed them on the floor.
Hayley: I couldn’t find anything to wear.
Sherry: That’s because all your clothes are ON THE FLOOR. I just cleaned this room yesterday!
Hayley: … Should I have a lawyer?

It’s eight billion degrees with the humidity tonight. Time for a glass of very cold water, a little reading, and bed.

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Us, originally uploaded by sherina.

The three of us at the park last week.

By the way there are a boatload more pictures over at Flickr.

I must say, sometimes I am extra proud to be Canadian.

I just saw this video and it makes me laugh so hard that I either had to share it or risk peeing my pants. I present you with David Hasselhoff’s incredibly cheesy video for “Hooked On A Feeling”. You’re welcome.

Seriously. Can’t.Stop.Laughing. There are tears. And a sore stomach. Maybe I should step away from the computer and regroup.

Okay so between driving with her baby on her lap and driving with him strapped in but forward-facing at only eight months, Britney has been beaten down by parents and the media everywhere. Then I actually felt sorry for her because everyone jumped on how she was clearly a bad mother because she tripped while carrying him and nearly dropped him because, you know, that NEVER happens to any of us. Right. I’ve tripped eight billion times while walking with each of my kids, plus banged their head or arm more than a few times while trying to pass through a door frame, and I also had each one roll off the couch because I was so sleep deprived that I fell asleep while nursing them. I’m human and hey, so is Britney except she has to be human in front of thousands of cameras.

But today I may have beaten Britney at the bad mother game. I think I win because not once, but TWICE today, I rocked Breanna to sleep courtesy of the soft and soothing sounds of 50 Cent*. Nothing says, “shhh, take a nap little baby” like a bit of gangsta rap.

(*For what it’s worth, I thought “Get Rich Or Die Trying” was a pretty good movie. Bonus = seeing the guy who plays Mr. Eko on Lost as a drug warlord.)

You know, they always say that young kids will one day learn to ask “why” and then they will never stop. You might think it’s an exageration, but it’s really not. Hayley started asking why around age two, or a little before, and has not only never stopped, she is picking up steam.

Generally it doesn’t bug me. Of course I understand it’s the only way to learn at that age since she can’t go look it up or read about it, so I answer as best as I can with age-appropriate answers (“The Earth turns and the sun goes around it, so when the sun sets here we share it with the people on the other side” instead of any heavier scientific stuff about rotation and revolution, for instance).

Some days though, it just never ends and I can’t answer one more “why” without wanting to cry a little, or possibly stick my ear plugs in my ears and pretend I have no idea WHY I can’t hear her. In fact, I’ve channelled my mother a few times, hearing myself say “Because I said so!” in response to the dreaded question in relation to not being allowed to do or have something.

But mostly it’s just the sort of thing that slowly drives you mildly insane until you snap just a little and give an answer that’s so confusing, it stops the questions for at least half an hour.

“Why is that crane over there?”
“Because they’re building a new set of condos.”
“What are condos?”
“Like apartments but you buy it like a house.”
“Can we go see it?”
“We can go to the edge and look but we can’t go right over.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s a construction site.”
“What’s a construction site?”
“Where they build stuff.”
“Why can’t we go?”
“Because it’s dangerous.”
“Why?”
“It just is.”
“Can we take a ball?”
“Not today.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re not going out on the grass. We’re walking to Stone Step Hill and there’s nowhere to play soccer there, and I can’t carry the ball.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m pushing the stroller.”
“What will we do at Stone Step Hill?”
“We can feed the squirrels if there are any around.”
“What do squirrels eat?”
“Well, nuts and stuff but we’ll take a bit of bread.”
“Why?”
“LOOK, IT’S NOT THE BLOODY SPANISH INQUISITION! Are you ready to go?”
“… Yes, Mommy.”
“Good. Let’s go.”

You know how you can tell it’s going to be one LONG day? When you walk past the microwave and see the clock says 7:44 and you think, “I’d better hurry up and get the kids to bed.” And then you realize that you’ve only been up for an hour and it’s 7:44 a.m. not p.m. and yes, it’s morning.

I made my coffee just a little stronger than usual; I think the day is going to be a drawn-out one of epic proportions.