It was the throaty hack that gave it away. The kind that reddens the face and causes tears to swell in the eyes. Oh, the fever, exhaustion and all-around sluggishness also gave it away: Elise is sick.
She developed the robust cough last week and by Sunday night, was coughing hard and frequently and was generally unhappy.
By this morning she was hacking up small organs and looking just plain miserable.
Anni took her to the doctor, who said her lungs sound OK but she has a respiratory bug. Then the doctor peered into Elise's right ear and had this observation: "Ouch. That doesn't look good."
You guessed it: another ear infection. It's only her second, but this one caught us by surprise. Last time she had one, she had been rubbing her ear and tugging on it. Even I could figure that out.
This time, though, we didn't expect she would have an ear infection.
She's working her way through it all, with 8 ml of help from amoxicillin twice daily.
At least we know the hacking is from bacteria, not Basics.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Nibble me this...
Anni had this to say when she came home from work recently:
"Our child tried to bite another child again today."
Swell. Where to begin? The fact that she tried to bite another kid, or that she tried again?
I know, I know. It's not unheard of for young kids to bite or pinch one another. But what do you do when you have to use two hands to count the number of times it's occurred?
You turn to humor, I guess.
"If Elise were a Batman villain, she'd be The Nibbler," Anni said.
Wisecracks aside, we're trying hard to nip this biting habit. Again, I know, I know. Many kids do it and just because she did it a few times at 11 months doesn't mean she's going to chomp on her fleshy-armed fellow kindergartners. But still.
It reminds me of one of my greatest fears. (I have two; the other is an ice cream famine.) I fear that, despite our best efforts, we will raise a child who turns out to be that kid, the one who bites for no reason or commits other random bratty acts.
Am I getting a little ahead of myself, a bit carried away? Sure, but you would too if you saw Elise, agape with tiny chompers visible, lunging toward your neck.
"Our child tried to bite another child again today."
Swell. Where to begin? The fact that she tried to bite another kid, or that she tried again?
I know, I know. It's not unheard of for young kids to bite or pinch one another. But what do you do when you have to use two hands to count the number of times it's occurred?
You turn to humor, I guess.
"If Elise were a Batman villain, she'd be The Nibbler," Anni said.
Wisecracks aside, we're trying hard to nip this biting habit. Again, I know, I know. Many kids do it and just because she did it a few times at 11 months doesn't mean she's going to chomp on her fleshy-armed fellow kindergartners. But still.
It reminds me of one of my greatest fears. (I have two; the other is an ice cream famine.) I fear that, despite our best efforts, we will raise a child who turns out to be that kid, the one who bites for no reason or commits other random bratty acts.
Am I getting a little ahead of myself, a bit carried away? Sure, but you would too if you saw Elise, agape with tiny chompers visible, lunging toward your neck.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Seriously, child. Already?
Like every other major development so far, this one came as a surprise.
Elise has been using the steps to pull herself up to a standing position, but then she just stands there and tries to tinker with the night light. That was her M.O. until tonight, when we looked over at her and she was kneeling on the first step and looking nowhere but up.
She got more adventurous and soon was on the third step.
Frankly, I'm not thrilled about this achievement. But I think there is an upside to this. She'll be more capable of helping when we refinish the stairs.
I can picture it now: "Hey, Elise, please go up and remove that 7th tread."
Elise has been using the steps to pull herself up to a standing position, but then she just stands there and tries to tinker with the night light. That was her M.O. until tonight, when we looked over at her and she was kneeling on the first step and looking nowhere but up.
She got more adventurous and soon was on the third step.
Frankly, I'm not thrilled about this achievement. But I think there is an upside to this. She'll be more capable of helping when we refinish the stairs.
I can picture it now: "Hey, Elise, please go up and remove that 7th tread."
Thursday, January 21, 2010
D'oh!
The cool, pasty, fresh odor still triggers a particular memory for me:
Standing at the check-out lane at the North St. Paul Target store. My age is in the single digits, my attention focused intently on the impulse-purchase items. They all look so good -- how do they know to put all those toys at my height, anyway? I spot the small containers of Play-Doh and the Silly Putty eggs. They'd be so fun. I can smell the Play-Doh through the container, and I envision flattening the Silly Putty on the kitchen table with my palm...
OK, snap out of it!
So did I leave the store with either toy? I don't recall, but it's that vivid image of small Play-Doh containers stocked on Target-red shelving that I remember.
That memory came back to me the other day as Anni and I were trying to keep Elise from eating the Play-Doh that we let her play with for the first time.
Is she too young for Play-Doh? Nah, so long as you make sure she doesn't assume it's dessert.
She actually had a pretty good time picking it up, crushing it, rolling it and trying to get it off her fingertips.
And, yes, I smelled the stuff to see if it's changed. It hasn't.
Standing at the check-out lane at the North St. Paul Target store. My age is in the single digits, my attention focused intently on the impulse-purchase items. They all look so good -- how do they know to put all those toys at my height, anyway? I spot the small containers of Play-Doh and the Silly Putty eggs. They'd be so fun. I can smell the Play-Doh through the container, and I envision flattening the Silly Putty on the kitchen table with my palm...
OK, snap out of it!
So did I leave the store with either toy? I don't recall, but it's that vivid image of small Play-Doh containers stocked on Target-red shelving that I remember.
That memory came back to me the other day as Anni and I were trying to keep Elise from eating the Play-Doh that we let her play with for the first time.
Is she too young for Play-Doh? Nah, so long as you make sure she doesn't assume it's dessert.
She actually had a pretty good time picking it up, crushing it, rolling it and trying to get it off her fingertips.
And, yes, I smelled the stuff to see if it's changed. It hasn't.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Myotonic? Nah, just ticked
You've probably heard of fainting goats. If you haven't, check out this brief video before watching the video I uploaded to this post.
If you are familiar with those creatures -- they're actually called myotonic goats -- you still should check out the linked video.
Watched it yet? OK, now let me explain. It's pretty simple, really: For the past couple of weeks we've been raising our own fainting goat.
The only difference is that the real goats "faint" because of a nerve condition. Ours drops to the ground like a fainting goat because of an attitude condition.
Anni gets credit for making the connection. So guess who will get the blame if this is an early-onset temper tantrum?
If you are familiar with those creatures -- they're actually called myotonic goats -- you still should check out the linked video.
Watched it yet? OK, now let me explain. It's pretty simple, really: For the past couple of weeks we've been raising our own fainting goat.
The only difference is that the real goats "faint" because of a nerve condition. Ours drops to the ground like a fainting goat because of an attitude condition.
Anni gets credit for making the connection. So guess who will get the blame if this is an early-onset temper tantrum?
Sunday, January 10, 2010
A good sign
Elise has been learning basic "baby sign language" for several months, and is starting to catch on. (I was skeptical at first that this works and is useful, but I converted.)
She is being taught basic signs by us and by the teachers at school: water, thank you, milk, no, mom, dad and more.
We have seen her sign, but it often is, well, sloppy. It's not quite the right sign, but it's close enough for someone in a diaper.
Yesterday I was feeding her lunch. She had cleaned her tray of the bread and cottage cheese. I turned to look at her and she was staring at me and making an absolutely perfect sign for "more." You could have taken a picture of her gesture and slapped it in a book as an example -- of course, you first would have to remove the mashed bread bits from between her fingers.
Well, this little episode was pretty exciting. Oh, sure, like I said, we've seen her sign before and she signs at school. I told Anni about it when she got home, but I could not explain why it was any different than when she has signed before.
And maybe it was no different, except that it finally clicked for me: She wanted something, knew that to get more of it she had to do something other than cry, so did that. Basic communication -- it's very underrated.
There was an even more exciting development today, though.
I took Elise to Menards. I put her in the cart and we wandered around the store, including making the required stroll through the jaw-droppingly fascinating lighting section.
After finding my items, we were nearing the checkout lanes. I paused for a moment. I looked down at Elise. She looked up and gestured for "more."
I'm sure we'll make that trip again.
She is being taught basic signs by us and by the teachers at school: water, thank you, milk, no, mom, dad and more.
We have seen her sign, but it often is, well, sloppy. It's not quite the right sign, but it's close enough for someone in a diaper.
Yesterday I was feeding her lunch. She had cleaned her tray of the bread and cottage cheese. I turned to look at her and she was staring at me and making an absolutely perfect sign for "more." You could have taken a picture of her gesture and slapped it in a book as an example -- of course, you first would have to remove the mashed bread bits from between her fingers.
Well, this little episode was pretty exciting. Oh, sure, like I said, we've seen her sign before and she signs at school. I told Anni about it when she got home, but I could not explain why it was any different than when she has signed before.
And maybe it was no different, except that it finally clicked for me: She wanted something, knew that to get more of it she had to do something other than cry, so did that. Basic communication -- it's very underrated.
There was an even more exciting development today, though.
I took Elise to Menards. I put her in the cart and we wandered around the store, including making the required stroll through the jaw-droppingly fascinating lighting section.
After finding my items, we were nearing the checkout lanes. I paused for a moment. I looked down at Elise. She looked up and gestured for "more."
I'm sure we'll make that trip again.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Friday, January 8, 2010
Going through the motions
The scene: The dining table. Two parents seated, eating dinner. Child, sitting in high-chair, eating dinner.
The action: With no warning, child ralphs her dinner. It's carrots and peas, of course -- what else is disgorged? But in graceful, waterfall-like motion, puke conveniently lands only on high-chair tray and in catch-all pocket of child's washable bib.
The reaction: Parents, seemingly unfazed, watch without saying a word. Huh, they think to themselves, she looked just fine a minute ago. They look at each other, then look back at the child, who is staring at them. Parents get up and instinctively split clean-up duties, saying nothing.
The action: With no warning, child ralphs her dinner. It's carrots and peas, of course -- what else is disgorged? But in graceful, waterfall-like motion, puke conveniently lands only on high-chair tray and in catch-all pocket of child's washable bib.
The reaction: Parents, seemingly unfazed, watch without saying a word. Huh, they think to themselves, she looked just fine a minute ago. They look at each other, then look back at the child, who is staring at them. Parents get up and instinctively split clean-up duties, saying nothing.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Noel at 9 months
Did she understand it? Probably not.
If you were 9 months old, would you understand why your dad dragged into the living room a big green thing and started pouring water on it? Would you understand why your mom arranged little people, farm animals and a baby on the table out of your reach even though they look like toys? And what's with the big boxes scattered on the floor?
We've been asked if Elise enjoyed Christmas. I suppose. She was in good spirits and dealt well with the 17 people she saw in one day. She decided that gift bows taste pretty good, too.
Christmas should be even more enjoyable next year, when Elise figures out that some of the boxes under the big green thing are for her.
I guess we could have just wrapped up some ribbon for her.
Elise, Grandpa Winter and the, uhm, gosh-darned prettiest ornament to adorn a Christmas tree.
Reading a new book from G and G Wente.
At the Winter Christmas.
The sock monkey that family friend Jane made for Elise was an instant hit.
Sock monkey-mauling is a sign of affection.
I can't figure out why Elise always is the only one who listens when I say, "Now, look away from the camera."
I'm not sure what this was all about.
Getting reacquainted with Great Grandma Winter.
Bumper sticker: "At least my kid can find her way out of a paper bag."
I look like I've never held this girl before.
I guess we could have just wrapped up a remote control for her.
If you were 9 months old, would you understand why your dad dragged into the living room a big green thing and started pouring water on it? Would you understand why your mom arranged little people, farm animals and a baby on the table out of your reach even though they look like toys? And what's with the big boxes scattered on the floor?
We've been asked if Elise enjoyed Christmas. I suppose. She was in good spirits and dealt well with the 17 people she saw in one day. She decided that gift bows taste pretty good, too.
Christmas should be even more enjoyable next year, when Elise figures out that some of the boxes under the big green thing are for her.
I guess we could have just wrapped up some ribbon for her.
Elise, Grandpa Winter and the, uhm, gosh-darned prettiest ornament to adorn a Christmas tree.
Reading a new book from G and G Wente.
At the Winter Christmas.
The sock monkey that family friend Jane made for Elise was an instant hit.
Sock monkey-mauling is a sign of affection. 
I can't figure out why Elise always is the only one who listens when I say, "Now, look away from the camera."
I'm not sure what this was all about.
Getting reacquainted with Great Grandma Winter.
Bumper sticker: "At least my kid can find her way out of a paper bag."
I look like I've never held this girl before.
I guess we could have just wrapped up a remote control for her.Thursday, December 24, 2009
Snowed in -- and not minding it
It snowed here in the last 24 hours. It probably was not a storm for the record books, but a good several inches with more on the way Christmas day.What's the young family to do on Christmas Eve, when the forecast calls for a few more inches of snow and skating-rink-like roadways after dark?
Stay put.
So that's what we did. We decided to hunker down with the baby, good food and drink and enjoy a peaceful holiday at home. Plenty of time for hustling tomorrow.
It worked out well. The mild temperature provided us an opportunity to introduce Elise to snow.
And as luck would have it, Santa went to the hardware store today after he was done working and found the best looking sled on the shelf. It's simple, plastic, red, kind of old school. It was an early Christmas gift to the ladies of the house, who were itching to get outside.
After getting pulled in the sled up and down the driveway and around the backyard, Elise seemed to enjoy -- pleasantly tolerate? -- the experience.
You have to introduce kids to snow as early as possible. That's why, after such a promising outing today, I'm taking Elise snowboarding next weekend.
In the meantime, Merry Christmas.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Womb humor
Anni, Bryan and I were doing a little armchair geneticizing today, trying to determine who Elise got her features from. You know, eyes, nose, face, etc.
Then Anni said something that would really leave you scratching your head. She was talking about the seemingly random way babies inherit looks and genetics from family:
"I picture my womb as a slot machine," Anni said, obviously getting our attention.
"Ding! 'You get Grandma's eyes,'" she said, "and Ding! 'You get Dad's ears.'"
If my genetics class in college was that easy, I'd still be a biology major. You can bet on it.
Then Anni said something that would really leave you scratching your head. She was talking about the seemingly random way babies inherit looks and genetics from family:
"I picture my womb as a slot machine," Anni said, obviously getting our attention.
"Ding! 'You get Grandma's eyes,'" she said, "and Ding! 'You get Dad's ears.'"
If my genetics class in college was that easy, I'd still be a biology major. You can bet on it.
Hanging around
Bryan is home for Christmas break from balmy Las Vegas, but Elise initially gave him the cold shoulder.
It's been four months since they last saw each other. I guess if you're converting baby time, four months is like half of your life. No wonder it took her a bit of time to warm up to him, but they were reacquainted soon enough.
We all had a good weekend. The last-minute hustling before the holidays has begun, but there was plenty of time for lounging, too.
I can't explain it. I just took the picture.
Another bank-busting toy: Plastic tube that makes noise -- $1.89.
There are days when I wish I could do this. (And, no, she's not napping. Just goofin' around.)
There will never be a day when I can do this. At least not comfortably.
It's been four months since they last saw each other. I guess if you're converting baby time, four months is like half of your life. No wonder it took her a bit of time to warm up to him, but they were reacquainted soon enough.
We all had a good weekend. The last-minute hustling before the holidays has begun, but there was plenty of time for lounging, too.
I can't explain it. I just took the picture.
Another bank-busting toy: Plastic tube that makes noise -- $1.89.
There are days when I wish I could do this. (And, no, she's not napping. Just goofin' around.)
There will never be a day when I can do this. At least not comfortably.House party
Anni and Elise went to Laura's this weekend to make a gingerbread house with Randy and Jacob, who affectionately refer to their cousin as "Baby Elise."
Judging from this photo, it's a bit surprising they had enough candy left to decorate the gingerbread house.
Young candy artists at work.
Only Elise listened when the three were told to look to their left.
Judging from this photo, it's a bit surprising they had enough candy left to decorate the gingerbread house.
Young candy artists at work.
Only Elise listened when the three were told to look to their left.Ending 2009 at 20.02
We were at the doctor's office the other day for Elise's 9-month check-up.We learned a few things, including that she has the preferred amount of "subcutaneous fat." I guess that's the good fat, the healthy stuff, the cute baby blubber. Given that she's already nearly 31 inches, I would have guessed she is below average for subcutaneous fat, but I guess she's right on track. What that really means, I'm not sure. I just like the term "subcutaneous fat" and said it was going on the blog, mostly because I knew how to spell it. So there.
Here's her stats: She was 30 3/4 inches long and weighed 20.02 lbs. All other health indicators they check at each visit were normal: head size, weight for length, length for age, etc.
Cut away all the clinical stuff, though, we left feeling like she's on a roll, growing like a bean, developing her interpersonal and motor skills and all of those things you often take for granted when you see her every day.
"This baby's doing great," the good doc said.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Elise, meet Fraser
Elise is digging the Fraser fir Christmas tree in our living room.She likes the lights -- and whatever ornaments she can get her paws on.
'Hey, watch this'
More often than not lately we've discovered this scene when we get Elise after a nap. She has not yet lifted herself to her feet while in the crib, which is good because I still need to lower the mattress.
I'm not sure, but I think she's staked out a spot on the right side of the crib because she's freaked out by the make-shift window curtain visible in the background. Which reminds me: It's about time we get going on finishing the upstairs windows.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
The crawler
Elise has been crawling for about two weeks. She has mastered it enough so that she can buzz around quickly without planting her face in the carpet. She follows us around the first floor, but is not thrilled about the tile in the bathroom. It is not heated, and she is spoiled by the heated tile in our kitchen.
In the foreground of the video you will see a stuffed puppy. (Not a real stuffed canine, of course, but that would be the only way a cat would make it in the house.) Anyway, that toy is one of her favorites. We are especially happy about that because it was cheap. But apparently you pay extra for stuffed animals with names, so this one had no name when we brought it home. Anni suggested "Cocoa," which seemed too Miami Beachish to me. So it's called Puppy. Clearly it needs a better name.
After we shot this video Anni pointed out Elise's drab outfit. Yes, I dressed her. I guess she does look a little like a black and tan. Drab or not, those corduroy pants slow her down on the carpet, which is good for those moments when she is eying the low-hanging Christmas tree branches and feeling a little adventurous.
In the foreground of the video you will see a stuffed puppy. (Not a real stuffed canine, of course, but that would be the only way a cat would make it in the house.) Anyway, that toy is one of her favorites. We are especially happy about that because it was cheap. But apparently you pay extra for stuffed animals with names, so this one had no name when we brought it home. Anni suggested "Cocoa," which seemed too Miami Beachish to me. So it's called Puppy. Clearly it needs a better name.
After we shot this video Anni pointed out Elise's drab outfit. Yes, I dressed her. I guess she does look a little like a black and tan. Drab or not, those corduroy pants slow her down on the carpet, which is good for those moments when she is eying the low-hanging Christmas tree branches and feeling a little adventurous.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Eyes swayed, so I should have known
When Elise was just days old, she was making a funny hiccup sound while Anni was burping her. I got in real close with the video camera to get that recorded. (We use the video recorder sparingly. Too much work, and I prefer stills.)
I nearly got too close because after doing something strange with her eyes (imagine cross-eyed intoxication mixed with dizziness) she proceeded to puke -- this was not just a little spit-up -- all over herself. Anni burst out laughing and I was just hoping that I got it all on camera. I did. We saved it. She'll see it someday.
And last night was just swell. She was awake every two hours, screaming in a tone (and decibel) we had not yet heard. The only way to quiet her down was to sit with her in a chair. It was a rough night.
It did not get much better for her today at school. She filled her diaper and pant legs and shirt with a chemical compound not found anywhere else in nature. And she did that four times. The medically minded would just call it diarrhea, but this is a blog so we're a bit more creative. (Creative, I said, not necessarily breakfast-table reading material.)
She followed up those four rounds with the need for a dunk in the tub and a fifth wardrobe change at home tonight. That was after we visited the clinic to have her checked out for possible dehydration, but that trip was uneventful and free of any diagnosis. (Did we overreact? You would concur with our decision had you seen the kid; she did not look good.)
As she killed the bottle, I noticed a few strange eye rolls, but thought that she just was tired.
I should have known better. Those wobbly eyeballs were a sign that something messy was about to happen.
Sure enough, it did. Every ounce of formula that she had just consumed came right back up and out. She soaked herself, my pants and part of the couch.
And then she did it a second time. Frankly, I'm not sure where it all came from.
Anni was grocery shopping at the time, so there the two of us sat. Covered in it, neither one of us moved for a time. That was followed by a hastily prepared bath -- her second of the night -- and several minutes of me wandering around trying to prioritize: Get her in new pajamas? Change my soaked clothing? Try to clean the couch? Call for reinforcements?
That is when I should have had the video camera running.
I nearly got too close because after doing something strange with her eyes (imagine cross-eyed intoxication mixed with dizziness) she proceeded to puke -- this was not just a little spit-up -- all over herself. Anni burst out laughing and I was just hoping that I got it all on camera. I did. We saved it. She'll see it someday.
----
Elise has been a little "off" the past couple of days. This usually chipper child has been irritable. She has been eating unpredictably, unlike when she usually gobbles up everything with a smile.And last night was just swell. She was awake every two hours, screaming in a tone (and decibel) we had not yet heard. The only way to quiet her down was to sit with her in a chair. It was a rough night.
It did not get much better for her today at school. She filled her diaper and pant legs and shirt with a chemical compound not found anywhere else in nature. And she did that four times. The medically minded would just call it diarrhea, but this is a blog so we're a bit more creative. (Creative, I said, not necessarily breakfast-table reading material.)
She followed up those four rounds with the need for a dunk in the tub and a fifth wardrobe change at home tonight. That was after we visited the clinic to have her checked out for possible dehydration, but that trip was uneventful and free of any diagnosis. (Did we overreact? You would concur with our decision had you seen the kid; she did not look good.)
----
It was shortly before her bedtime. I was giving her a bottle. She was guzzling the formula at a steady clip. I assumed she would fall asleep in my arms and I would bring her to the crib.As she killed the bottle, I noticed a few strange eye rolls, but thought that she just was tired.
I should have known better. Those wobbly eyeballs were a sign that something messy was about to happen.
Sure enough, it did. Every ounce of formula that she had just consumed came right back up and out. She soaked herself, my pants and part of the couch.
And then she did it a second time. Frankly, I'm not sure where it all came from.
Anni was grocery shopping at the time, so there the two of us sat. Covered in it, neither one of us moved for a time. That was followed by a hastily prepared bath -- her second of the night -- and several minutes of me wandering around trying to prioritize: Get her in new pajamas? Change my soaked clothing? Try to clean the couch? Call for reinforcements?
That is when I should have had the video camera running.
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