Chloë: "Koë need more surp for pa-cake dipping."
Eric: "That's a big sentence."
Jenny: "I think that's seven."
Chloë: "Eight, nine, ten!"
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
The trouble with lipase
I've been pumping milk for the past several weeks, here and there, to build up a back stock for when I go back to work. The midwife at my six-week appointment pointed out that all I really need is enough for the first day, but it was very nice last time being able to send frozen packets along to the mothers' or aunt's with Chloë at will without having to pump extra, so I pumped enough for a decent bagful in the freezer and was quite pleased.
Then, when we realized we needed to reintroduce bottles to Maia and figure out what size meal she needed, I pumped a test bottle in the wee hours and we tried it that night. Maia refused it, howling and shrieking. After a couple of attempts, Eric noticed the milk smelled a little off. I pumped a completely fresh bottle and she still refused to take it, so that didn't explain the bottle troubles, but it did present a concern of its own. Milk usually stays good around forty-eight hours, at least twenty-four, and this had been twelve. We tried it again the next day, and again the early morning milk smelled and tasted off.
Eric did some research and found out that some women produce milk with too much lipase in it. Lipase breaks down fats and causes rancidity, and an excess makes that happen much more quickly than normal. It doesn't technically spoil the milk, but it makes it taste nasty enough that no baby will drink it anyway. He also read that scalding the milk, on the stove or in a bottle warmer, will deactivate the lipase and save the milk, without causing quite as much destruction as microwaving it would do.
I was somewhat skeptical that this was what was going on, since I didn't have this problem last time and felt vaguely that I was being criticized. But it made most sense to proceed as if this were true, so we bought a bottle warmer and I started scalding all my pumped milk. Then I thawed one of the stashed aliquots to verify, since lipase will continue to work when frozen, if more slowly. It smelled and tasted awful.
So, we're throwing out the entire back stock. Luckily we--Eric--caught this in enough time that I'll have just about enough time to pump enough for my first day back at work without being crazy about it. I'm also going to have to bring the bottle warmer to work with me, which will be a pain (and too bad for Eric, since it would be very useful for him--I don't know why we didn't think of buying one last time; they're pretty inexpensive and very fast). But it's better than the alternative. I do wonder what's causing it, though. One possible cause is diet. It better not be the chocolate.
Then, when we realized we needed to reintroduce bottles to Maia and figure out what size meal she needed, I pumped a test bottle in the wee hours and we tried it that night. Maia refused it, howling and shrieking. After a couple of attempts, Eric noticed the milk smelled a little off. I pumped a completely fresh bottle and she still refused to take it, so that didn't explain the bottle troubles, but it did present a concern of its own. Milk usually stays good around forty-eight hours, at least twenty-four, and this had been twelve. We tried it again the next day, and again the early morning milk smelled and tasted off.
Eric did some research and found out that some women produce milk with too much lipase in it. Lipase breaks down fats and causes rancidity, and an excess makes that happen much more quickly than normal. It doesn't technically spoil the milk, but it makes it taste nasty enough that no baby will drink it anyway. He also read that scalding the milk, on the stove or in a bottle warmer, will deactivate the lipase and save the milk, without causing quite as much destruction as microwaving it would do.
I was somewhat skeptical that this was what was going on, since I didn't have this problem last time and felt vaguely that I was being criticized. But it made most sense to proceed as if this were true, so we bought a bottle warmer and I started scalding all my pumped milk. Then I thawed one of the stashed aliquots to verify, since lipase will continue to work when frozen, if more slowly. It smelled and tasted awful.
So, we're throwing out the entire back stock. Luckily we--Eric--caught this in enough time that I'll have just about enough time to pump enough for my first day back at work without being crazy about it. I'm also going to have to bring the bottle warmer to work with me, which will be a pain (and too bad for Eric, since it would be very useful for him--I don't know why we didn't think of buying one last time; they're pretty inexpensive and very fast). But it's better than the alternative. I do wonder what's causing it, though. One possible cause is diet. It better not be the chocolate.
Status report: Month 2 (Maia)
Two months? Really? No wonder the 0-3 month clothes are fitting so much better. Maia's' two-month (really eight-week) checkup last week went very well; she was 11 lb, 3 oz, which is perfect, 50th percentile. She's also 50th percentile for weight, and 95th for head size. I guess our kids are just that way.
She was furious about her shots and let us know, and then slept. A lot. Which was a change. Like Chloë, she hasn't been doing as much sleeping as the books say she should. She also gets very cranky at night and usually about half an hour after feeding, though that half-hour is usually pretty pleasant these days. She looks around, smiles, follows faces with her eyes, puts up with her sister's kisses and prods.
But the crankiness, oh, the crankiness. Nights have been especially bad, high-pitched screaming that usually only gets stopped by a cork (i.e., the R.I.N.D.S.). It's bad enough and inconsolable enough that we're considering it night colic. The pediatrician suggested that reflux might be causing it, as she also much prefers being upright and in motion, never, ever refuses a R.I.N.D.S., and I have my suspicions that she doesn't actually need to eat every two hours so much as she needs to suck on something, and she won't take a pacifier. Or a finger. Or a bottle, we've discovered. (More on that later.) We got a prescription for baby Zantac; we'll see whether it works.
We're having no issues with the R.I.N.D.S. this time around, at least as far as the direct interface goes. We have discovered, though, that she won't take a bottle. She did a few weeks ago, when we left her with the mothers for a few hours for our anniversary dinner; but Eric's been trying to get her to take a bottle for several days now in preparation for my return to work, and no dice. Our parents and the doctors say that when she's hungry enough, she will; which seems heartless but there's really not much we can do, since I must return to work and it's not close enough to come home every two hours, and I doubt they'd let me bring her to work with me. She'd bring down productivity too much.
(That's Chloë's doll. She'll get her own, but it'll have to be when I've got time to make one, which is not going to happen while we're nursing every two hours and walking the halls with her at night until bed.) My plans for a summer quilt for Chloë are also scrapped for now. I'm pleased I finished Maia's before she was born. Maia's slept under it a few times and seems to approve.
She goes to bed with me around 10-11, usually nursed down. The bassinet has been much emptier during her first two months than with Chloë's. She's still waking up mostly every three hours, though we've had a couple of four-hour stretches. I'm wondering if nursing her in bed is part of the problem, but she's still awfully little, so I'm not sure. She sleeps when she sleeps. And usually with her hands in the air, for some reason.
I think her birth hair is starting to fall out; I've been seeing fine strands here and there. Her eyes are still blue, but very dark; I suspect they're at least going to be like Chloë's changeable eyes, if not fully brown. She's mostly able to keep her head up now, and has kind of rolled over--not true rolls, I think, but it indicates some trunk strength, which is good. She is a sweet little girl.
Thank you. Thank you very much.
She was furious about her shots and let us know, and then slept. A lot. Which was a change. Like Chloë, she hasn't been doing as much sleeping as the books say she should. She also gets very cranky at night and usually about half an hour after feeding, though that half-hour is usually pretty pleasant these days. She looks around, smiles, follows faces with her eyes, puts up with her sister's kisses and prods.
But the crankiness, oh, the crankiness. Nights have been especially bad, high-pitched screaming that usually only gets stopped by a cork (i.e., the R.I.N.D.S.). It's bad enough and inconsolable enough that we're considering it night colic. The pediatrician suggested that reflux might be causing it, as she also much prefers being upright and in motion, never, ever refuses a R.I.N.D.S., and I have my suspicions that she doesn't actually need to eat every two hours so much as she needs to suck on something, and she won't take a pacifier. Or a finger. Or a bottle, we've discovered. (More on that later.) We got a prescription for baby Zantac; we'll see whether it works.
We're having no issues with the R.I.N.D.S. this time around, at least as far as the direct interface goes. We have discovered, though, that she won't take a bottle. She did a few weeks ago, when we left her with the mothers for a few hours for our anniversary dinner; but Eric's been trying to get her to take a bottle for several days now in preparation for my return to work, and no dice. Our parents and the doctors say that when she's hungry enough, she will; which seems heartless but there's really not much we can do, since I must return to work and it's not close enough to come home every two hours, and I doubt they'd let me bring her to work with me. She'd bring down productivity too much.
(That's Chloë's doll. She'll get her own, but it'll have to be when I've got time to make one, which is not going to happen while we're nursing every two hours and walking the halls with her at night until bed.) My plans for a summer quilt for Chloë are also scrapped for now. I'm pleased I finished Maia's before she was born. Maia's slept under it a few times and seems to approve.
She goes to bed with me around 10-11, usually nursed down. The bassinet has been much emptier during her first two months than with Chloë's. She's still waking up mostly every three hours, though we've had a couple of four-hour stretches. I'm wondering if nursing her in bed is part of the problem, but she's still awfully little, so I'm not sure. She sleeps when she sleeps. And usually with her hands in the air, for some reason.
I think her birth hair is starting to fall out; I've been seeing fine strands here and there. Her eyes are still blue, but very dark; I suspect they're at least going to be like Chloë's changeable eyes, if not fully brown. She's mostly able to keep her head up now, and has kind of rolled over--not true rolls, I think, but it indicates some trunk strength, which is good. She is a sweet little girl.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Status report: Month 23 (Chloë)
Chloë the almost-two-year-old! Eric says, "Where did the time go?" I'd say mostly into diaper changes, but Maia's got her beat.
But Chloë is a happy, running, talkative--oh, so talkative--girl, big and adorable and getting ever more clever and funny. Yesterday morning she was watching my morning ablutions and said casually, "Lotion on mouth no?" (her syntax for "no lotion on mouth," an injunction we've drilled into her since she frequently asks for lotion because she likes to spread it on her face and hands). "No," I agreed. "Lotion on forehead? Lotion on cheeks?" she went on. I concurred that these were okay. "Have lotion? Please?" she concluded, and I, having seen the general drift of this conversation, dispensed some from the bottle I'd already picked up.
She hardly ever asks to be picked up anymore, but she's done it several times lately I was holding Maia. But mostly, she's been a great big sister, wanting to see her and kiss her and know where she is. I'm afraid I've been so focused on the jealousy aspect that I've been overlooking her love for her sister. Recently she wanted to see the pictures on my phone, and when I set the slideshow to run drove me crazy with her refrain of "No, no, no!" After I yelled at her about it and drove her to tears, we worked out what she was no-ing, and it turned out she wanted to see only the pictures that had Maia in them.
She's still a good eater, but becoming more picky--no, that's not the right word. Lunches are in fact usually pretty small, but then she often eats whatever's left over as an afternoon snack. She simply has definite opinions about what she wants now. That's really what's characterized the last month or two, I think. She knows what she wants, and she can tell us (mostly), and if she doesn't get it she gets mad. No huge tantrums, but plenty of small ones--but mostly, she's still a happy girl.
The water park was a huge, huge hit. She still talks about it constantly, and mentions the slide she went down with Mimi or the sunscreen she had to put on or that she went in the wave pool with Omi and Mimaw or the closet she and Addie played in. It also cured her hesitation on her slide at home--we got it out the other day and she went up and slid down, up and slid down, endlessly. It didn't cure her of being a water baby, though. We went to the farmer's market the other day, which is located right by the river, and spent more time stopping along the walkway looking at the river than actually at the market.
Playing hard at Kalahari unfortunately didn't cure her of waking up at 6 AM, but it did help her sleep hard. She's still a somewhat restless sleeper, and unfortunately a frequent nighttime nose-bleeder. She can't seem to keep blankets or sheets on at night, but she sleeps so hot it doesn't seem to matter.
Her vocabulary and usage, and understanding, continue to amaze us. Her record sentence so far is six words: "Milk fall down on blue pants." Then there was the following conversation the other day, while Eric was combing Chloë's hair (yes, he's the one who does it; I used to but he decided to be all smart about breaking out his own comb instead of the baby ones we had and she likes his better):
Eric: Your hair is getting so long now.
Chloë: Koë hair get long?
Eric: That's right.
Chloë: Koë get big?
Eric: Yes, you are.
Chloë: Koë huge!
She has a shape-sorter, has had for a while, that she wasn't interested in. But recently she started playing with it, and now she can easily fit and name all four shapes--circle, square, triangle, and star. She's working on non-rainbow colors, and adoring her Potty Elmo video--I'm starting to suspect for the music, though she's interested in Curly Bear, who's just learning to use the potty, too. "Koë baby nope?" she just said. "Koë big burl?" And yes, she certainly is.
But Chloë is a happy, running, talkative--oh, so talkative--girl, big and adorable and getting ever more clever and funny. Yesterday morning she was watching my morning ablutions and said casually, "Lotion on mouth no?" (her syntax for "no lotion on mouth," an injunction we've drilled into her since she frequently asks for lotion because she likes to spread it on her face and hands). "No," I agreed. "Lotion on forehead? Lotion on cheeks?" she went on. I concurred that these were okay. "Have lotion? Please?" she concluded, and I, having seen the general drift of this conversation, dispensed some from the bottle I'd already picked up.
She hardly ever asks to be picked up anymore, but she's done it several times lately I was holding Maia. But mostly, she's been a great big sister, wanting to see her and kiss her and know where she is. I'm afraid I've been so focused on the jealousy aspect that I've been overlooking her love for her sister. Recently she wanted to see the pictures on my phone, and when I set the slideshow to run drove me crazy with her refrain of "No, no, no!" After I yelled at her about it and drove her to tears, we worked out what she was no-ing, and it turned out she wanted to see only the pictures that had Maia in them.
She's still a good eater, but becoming more picky--no, that's not the right word. Lunches are in fact usually pretty small, but then she often eats whatever's left over as an afternoon snack. She simply has definite opinions about what she wants now. That's really what's characterized the last month or two, I think. She knows what she wants, and she can tell us (mostly), and if she doesn't get it she gets mad. No huge tantrums, but plenty of small ones--but mostly, she's still a happy girl.
The water park was a huge, huge hit. She still talks about it constantly, and mentions the slide she went down with Mimi or the sunscreen she had to put on or that she went in the wave pool with Omi and Mimaw or the closet she and Addie played in. It also cured her hesitation on her slide at home--we got it out the other day and she went up and slid down, up and slid down, endlessly. It didn't cure her of being a water baby, though. We went to the farmer's market the other day, which is located right by the river, and spent more time stopping along the walkway looking at the river than actually at the market.
Playing hard at Kalahari unfortunately didn't cure her of waking up at 6 AM, but it did help her sleep hard. She's still a somewhat restless sleeper, and unfortunately a frequent nighttime nose-bleeder. She can't seem to keep blankets or sheets on at night, but she sleeps so hot it doesn't seem to matter.
Her vocabulary and usage, and understanding, continue to amaze us. Her record sentence so far is six words: "Milk fall down on blue pants." Then there was the following conversation the other day, while Eric was combing Chloë's hair (yes, he's the one who does it; I used to but he decided to be all smart about breaking out his own comb instead of the baby ones we had and she likes his better):
Eric: Your hair is getting so long now.
Chloë: Koë hair get long?
Eric: That's right.
Chloë: Koë get big?
Eric: Yes, you are.
Chloë: Koë huge!
She has a shape-sorter, has had for a while, that she wasn't interested in. But recently she started playing with it, and now she can easily fit and name all four shapes--circle, square, triangle, and star. She's working on non-rainbow colors, and adoring her Potty Elmo video--I'm starting to suspect for the music, though she's interested in Curly Bear, who's just learning to use the potty, too. "Koë baby nope?" she just said. "Koë big burl?" And yes, she certainly is.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Kalahari
And we're back from Kalahari, the water park, where we stayed for three-ish days with the mothers and Eric's sister's family. Chloe had a fabulous time, in the kiddie area or the wave pool with Daddy or me or Mimaw or Omi or Michelle. She started out timid, but by the end was going down the slides by herself, slipping down on her back and lying there in her life jacket waiting for a hand up so she could go again. Whenever we took a break, she'd willingly accept a drink or a snack or a diaper change, but pretty soon she was tugging at somebody's arm to go back into the water.
She got to spend a lot of time with her cousin Addie, which I think both of them enjoyed. Addie tends to be a bit bossy, as befits her role as eldest cousin and four-year-old, but they played in the water and at the kids' playground, and in our room in the mornings, and giggled together a lot.
Maia continues her schedule of feeding every two hours, but with a ratio of seven adults/teens to four kids, I got to spend a good amount of time away from her (which sounds terrible, but hey, I like being in the water too). She seemed to like the humidity and warmth and white noise while we were there.
Hey, how come I don't get to go on the water slides?
This was our first real Snyder family vacation with the girls, and I think it was a success--we all had a good time, and the community of extended family is always nice, and the scramble of coordinating schedules and preferences wasn't too bad. I was happy we went, for all of us but particularly for Chloë. We played hard, which I think is how this sort of vacation should be, and spent today recovering--after a disagreement on whether the concept of "having a bath in the morning" exists, Chloë's hair finally no longer smells like chlorine. Hooray!
She got to spend a lot of time with her cousin Addie, which I think both of them enjoyed. Addie tends to be a bit bossy, as befits her role as eldest cousin and four-year-old, but they played in the water and at the kids' playground, and in our room in the mornings, and giggled together a lot.
Maia continues her schedule of feeding every two hours, but with a ratio of seven adults/teens to four kids, I got to spend a good amount of time away from her (which sounds terrible, but hey, I like being in the water too). She seemed to like the humidity and warmth and white noise while we were there.
This was our first real Snyder family vacation with the girls, and I think it was a success--we all had a good time, and the community of extended family is always nice, and the scramble of coordinating schedules and preferences wasn't too bad. I was happy we went, for all of us but particularly for Chloë. We played hard, which I think is how this sort of vacation should be, and spent today recovering--after a disagreement on whether the concept of "having a bath in the morning" exists, Chloë's hair finally no longer smells like chlorine. Hooray!
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
I gave my love a cherry
Man, only two weeks left of maternity leave. This last week we've been trying to get a few things done, plus getting ready for the water park trip. In the meantime, the girls continue to grow up.
Chloë talks herself to sleep these days. It's hilarious to listen to her. "Mama Daddy Chloë Maia. Monkey jump. Dolly baby jump. Dolly baby sleep. Pooh bear sleep. Wait a minute! See you in the morning? Bye-bye Mama, bye-bye Daddy, bye-bye Maia, bye-bye Chloë. Bye-bye milk." She announces whatever happens to her and whatever she sees, and apparently whatever crosses her mind: "Someone coming downstairs." "Mama go potty now." "Go see Mimaw Omi Addie Raegan? Aunt Angie? Grandpa Halmoni? Grandpa Nana?" "Chloë watch Potty Elmo other day." (It is amazing how serious the actors sound on that show.)
One of her favorite words lately is "give." Our friend Nancy came by a few weeks ago to meet Maia and brought a present for each of them; Chloë's was a fuzzy duck with accompanying blanket. She picks up the duck and announces, "Incy gave ducky." (She can't do Ns to start with but seems to be okay with them in the middle of words.) When I let her have her favorite snacks, blueberries or fruit strips, she invariably walks out and tells Eric, "Mama gave blueberry/fruit snack." It's a good thing I hadn't given her anything I didn't want him to know.
Maia, in the meantime, has discovered the baby in the mirror and is starting to spend more time alert and not crying, which is nice. She's spending almost no time in the bassinet at no time, which drives me crazy, but I think the same thing happened with Chloë. I don't know if that's a result of my lack of patience or their habits. Ah well. I'll take the quiet time, and the solitary sleep will come eventually.
Chloë talks herself to sleep these days. It's hilarious to listen to her. "Mama Daddy Chloë Maia. Monkey jump. Dolly baby jump. Dolly baby sleep. Pooh bear sleep. Wait a minute! See you in the morning? Bye-bye Mama, bye-bye Daddy, bye-bye Maia, bye-bye Chloë. Bye-bye milk." She announces whatever happens to her and whatever she sees, and apparently whatever crosses her mind: "Someone coming downstairs." "Mama go potty now." "Go see Mimaw Omi Addie Raegan? Aunt Angie? Grandpa Halmoni? Grandpa Nana?" "Chloë watch Potty Elmo other day." (It is amazing how serious the actors sound on that show.)
One of her favorite words lately is "give." Our friend Nancy came by a few weeks ago to meet Maia and brought a present for each of them; Chloë's was a fuzzy duck with accompanying blanket. She picks up the duck and announces, "Incy gave ducky." (She can't do Ns to start with but seems to be okay with them in the middle of words.) When I let her have her favorite snacks, blueberries or fruit strips, she invariably walks out and tells Eric, "Mama gave blueberry/fruit snack." It's a good thing I hadn't given her anything I didn't want him to know.
Maia, in the meantime, has discovered the baby in the mirror and is starting to spend more time alert and not crying, which is nice. She's spending almost no time in the bassinet at no time, which drives me crazy, but I think the same thing happened with Chloë. I don't know if that's a result of my lack of patience or their habits. Ah well. I'll take the quiet time, and the solitary sleep will come eventually.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Where have all the cowgirls gone?
Where did my chicken-legged little baby go? Sometime while I wasn't looking, Maia has started packing on the weight, especially in her thighs, and gotten bigger all around. Even though she's six weeks (and a day) old, I've been thinking of her as newborn, "0 months," because all of her 0-3 months clothes were so gapingly huge. Not so anymore. They're hardly tight, but she no longer swims in them, and she's moved up to size 1 diapers. And her legs and arms are no longer scrawny. It's good progress, but it startles me.
And where did my Kayyee go? Because that's how Chloë was pronouncing her name up until, I think, yesterday. Suddenly, today, she's Koë. (Ls are still on our wish list, along with Ss, Fs, and THs.) Was it because her Aunt Karolyn was here for a visit, and Chloë called her "Aun' Kayyo"? Sometime soon she's going to stop referring to herself in third person, and Eric will be relieved, and my heart will twist because it will mean she's really truly her own person, and not just mine. Is that selfish? I wish I had more time with her. Jealousy cuts both ways.
And where did my Kayyee go? Because that's how Chloë was pronouncing her name up until, I think, yesterday. Suddenly, today, she's Koë. (Ls are still on our wish list, along with Ss, Fs, and THs.) Was it because her Aunt Karolyn was here for a visit, and Chloë called her "Aun' Kayyo"? Sometime soon she's going to stop referring to herself in third person, and Eric will be relieved, and my heart will twist because it will mean she's really truly her own person, and not just mine. Is that selfish? I wish I had more time with her. Jealousy cuts both ways.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)