my baum shelter

While we were in Little Rock, babyBaum decided it was time to start walking more than two steps at a time. Brace yourselves for this exciting update: he now walks about 10-15 steps at a time! I unsuccessfully tried several times to capture his walking on video. While we were picnicking at the Little Rock Zoo, he became enamored with all the sticks and tree branches on the ground. Armed with all the tree branches they could hold, his two cousins and his Aunt Anna encouraged him to walk, while I cheered him on with video camera in hand. Finally, what you’ve all been waiting for - a successful video of some of his first steps:

Fast Tube by Casper

This second video is from the same day. Oftentimes, Fred will hoist babyBaum onto his shoulders when we’re out walking. Lately, babyBaum has taken to grabbing two fistfuls of Fred’s hair and using these tufts of hair as his reins to hang on and pull Fred in the direction he wants to go. So cute but so glad it’s Fred’s hair he’s doing this to and not mine!

Fast Tube by Casper

I am what the medical profession politely calls a mother of advanced age. When you have your first baby at age 36 as opposed to age 26, trust me, there are many reminders that ten years makes a big difference when it comes to baby-rearing. So, I tend to shy away from saying things that will only highlight the fact that I’m the really old mom in the crowd. But, here goes – it really amazes me that most children are taught to address adults by their first names. Yes, call me old-fashioned, but I think that there should be clear lines between adults and children and using a formal title is an easy way to teach this to a child.

In this part of the country these days, the common practice is to teach one’s child to refer to adults as Mister/Miss (First Name), though plenty of people dispense with the Miss or Mister altogether. Of my many friends with children, almost all of them refer to me as Dionna or Miss Dionna. Even though it is strange to me to hear children addressing adults by their first name, it is certainly not anything that has ever offended me. I think every parent has the right to instill their own value system when it comes to manners. And, I certainly don’t feel disrespected simply because I’m not referred to as Mrs. Bierbaum. But, like I said, I’m the old one in the crowd and both Fred and I are old-fashioned, so when it comes to our kids, we’d like to teach them to use last names.

Fred was raised in a very Southern, very tiny town and always referred to the adults in his life as Mister/Miss (First Name). I was raised all over our fine country (but never in a tiny Southern town) and I, along with all my peers, always addressed the adults in our lives as Mr./Mrs./Ms. (Last Name). On the rare occasion when an adult would invite me to call them by their first name, my mother would later remind me that it wasn’t appropriate even when invited until I was an adult. Once I graduated high school, several friends’ parents then invited me to call them by their first names, since I “was an adult now.” At that point, I addressed them by their first names, but to this day it still feels a little funny to me.

Both Fred and I are more comfortable teaching our children to address adults by their last names with the only exception being family, in which case we use family names. Though, I’m considering changing my brother’s name from Uncle Chad to That Strange Man, as in ”babyBaum, don’t listen to that strange man - headbutting as a way of greeting is really not acceptable.” Let’s just say that I still can’t believe that my son has been successfully taught how to head butt at the tender age of one. But, I digress. 

I think everyone should be able to make whatever decisions are most comfortable for their family. However, I think our decision in this area will be very tricky since no one else we know does this. I envision potential awkwardness if our son’s friends address me as Dionna, but we teach him to address his friend’s mom as Mrs. Smith. You may be thinking to yourself right about now, Aren’t there more important (or at the very least, more entertaining) topics to mull over?  And I would say, 1) this is my blog so I get to mull over mundane issues such as this if I want; and 2) this has been on my mind because I keep seeing this topic discussed in various places. I even recently read that some states (Louisiana and another that is escaping my memory – old age, remember?) have enacted state-wide laws mandating that children in public schools use Mr./Mrs./Ms. + last names when addressing their teachers. Can you believe that the informality has become so entrenched that we have resorted to mandating by law the use of last names for teachers in public schools? The old woman in me thinks that is just plain crazy.

We shall see how this plays out when the time comes. I think that we should be able to pass along this seemingly old-fashioned, out-of-date tradition of address onto our children if we want, but I think we will come across as uppity or judgmental, which really isn’t the case at all.

Grandparents really are a wonderful commodity.

We’ve had a rough few days. Friday night brought a mild fever for babyBaum, which we initially attributed to teething. After all, he was taking antibiotics for his ear infection, so it couldn’t be that, right? Riiiight.

So, we lost a little sleep Friday night, but nothing we couldn’t handle. We even managed to host a pancake breakfast/cheer party for our neighbors and friends as we watched the Cowtown Marathoners (our house is directly on the marathon route, near the halfway point). It was a really fun time cheering the runners on.

Then, immediately after the Marathon, babyBaum’s temperature skyrocketed to around 104°, where it has hovered ever since. Saturday night, I got exactly two hours of sleep. Fred had to go into work on Sunday, so first thing, I called my mom.

“Would it be possible for you to cancel any plans you guys have for today and let me bring babyBaum over so you can watch him while I sleep in the guest room?”

And without any hesitation, my wonderful mother says, “Sure!” Because that’s what grandparents do. They drop everything to love on their child and grandchild. In my case, the grandchild gets a little more loving than the child, but I’m okay with that.

So, off we went to Nana and Grandpa’s house. They rocked, comforted, and played with my feverish baby while I slept. Grandparents really are a treasure. When your baby is sick, you can just hand him over and trust that they are going to love him and watch over him with as much love and concern as you do. Which means you can sleep. And sleep means you don’t pull all your hairs out one by one at 3am. Getting that time in to nap and have someone else take over for the day was just what both me and babyBaum needed. Especially, since last night was another one filled with feverish wakings.

This morning the pediatrician found that the one ear infection from last week had morphed into two: the original one had developed into “the worst ear infection I’ve ever seen in all my career,” and the second one was just, you know, your run of the mill ear infection. Oh, both of which were apparently immune to the very strong anitbiotic babyBaum was taking. So, we’re now on a stronger antibiotic – we may have a ruptured ear drum in our future – babyBaum may have to get a shot on Wednesday if this one doesn’t work – and I’m thinking, that whole “we may have to get ear tubes” issue has moved solidly into the Certainly Will Happen category. The appointment with the ENT to discuss ear tubes isn’t for another week.

I will confess that I have a sink full of dirty dishes and about six (yes, SIX!) loads of dirty clothes that need washing. There’s dried up oatmeal on my kitchen floor from when babyBaum tried to tell me he was “All Done!” this morning at breakfast and it will probably stay there for several more hours at least. And, I’ve worn the same pullover and jeans going on three days now. We probably shouldn’t even discuss when I last washed my hair. So, if you run into me later today at the store, a believable, “Hi, Dionna, you look so great!” would very much be appreciated.

At some point during each night, babyBaum kicks his feet in his sleep. Sometimes, he looks like he’s doing bicycle exercises in the air. Other times, he’s at the side of the crib and kicks the slats of the crib while somehow not managing to wake himself.

Tonight, about 30 minutes after going to bed, babyBaum screamed out in pain. I ran into his room and found him with one leg stuck very firmly between two of the slats. Now, just to give you an idea of the acrobats needed to achieve such a feat in one’s sleep, it took me several minutes of twisting and turning at exactly the right angles to get the leg free. Luckily, a few minutes with Mama in the rocking chair was all it took for him to slip back into slumberland.

For babyBaum’s birthday, we decided to have a family-only birthday celebration. With just family, we had 14 adults and 6 children and our house is not that large so it would have been difficult to include any more than we already had.

One of my favorite parts of the birthday bash was our photo booth. I bought a couple of yards of red and white striped fabric and hung it on the wall with thumbtacks as our backdrop. I then purchased a couple dozen foam clown noses here.  We tried to get a picture of babyBaum with all our guests – tried being the operative word. He was cooperative for the first two photos; however, he decided he’d had enough of the clown nose after that. Somehow, we managed to not get a photo with me and Fred, so we’ll have to try and get one with the three of us the next time we have someone here. All the photos from our “photo booth” are at the end of the post.

The clown noses ended up being quite entertaining for the young ones. I was very impressed with their creativity . . . 

 babyBaum’s cousins even made him a headband made of clown noses!

 Since I had no idea we could get by with a few foam clown noses as entertainment, we also had a genuine Bozo the Clown Bucket Bonanza game (that I got on clearance for $9.99) and we gave all the kids circus tattoos.

 This niece requested and received the most tats of all – on her hands, arms, legs, and feet. Maybe she’ll grow up to be a biker girl? I’m pretty sure her parents are hoping not.

All in all, it was a very fun get-together and worth all the effort that went into its planning. It was even worth the jokes from my brother Chad who constantly tells me that I have too much free time on my hands and need to go back to working full time. I then gloated and told him the cost of this birthday bash was 1/5 of the amount of money he forked over at the bouncy ball place for my nephew’s last birthday party. Sometimes, being crafty pays off!

Below are all our photos from the “photo booth” -

As you can see, I’ve decided to change the design of the blog. I like the cleaner, simpler format – hopefully, you will, too.

The biggest change is our little babyBaum turned ONE YEAR OLD this Saturday. I’m working on getting up all the pictures from his birthday party. Until then, this obligatory laden-with-frosting picture will have to tide you over.

And, in the middle of eating his cake, while all eyes were on him, he stood up on his own without holding onto anyone or anything. Just like he’d been doing it forever. And, I really thought he was going to take his first step right then while all eyes were on him. But, then, after a moment, he decided it was better to be closer to the cake, so back down to the floor he went. And, ever since his party, about once every ten minutes he stands up without any assistance, looks at me with a smile, picks up one foot, leans slightly forward, then collapses back down to the ground with an even bigger smile. He knows we’re waiting and he’s just messing with us now.

The biggest change (and one we dreaded the most) was the taking away of the bottle and switching to milk. We received so many good pieces of advice on this and I felt like we were armed with many ideas to try if things got difficult. In the end, we decided to put all the bottles out of sight and just go for it. And you know what? Miraculously, the world kept spinning on its axis. Seriously, though, it was a whole lot of angst over nothing. So far, anyway. I mean, it’s only been three days since the switch, so it may be a bit premature to claim success.

We started offering him a sippy cup with milk at meal times and he takes it, no questions asked. Bedtime was our biggest fear, but he’s gone down with just as much ease as he normally does. Not that he’s ever gone down with a whole lot of ease, but we’ve stayed at status quo and to us that screams, VICTORY! Several friends and family members told me that one-year was not a magical date and it was okay if I wanted to hold onto the bottle a little longer. And, I know moms are supposed to miss the feeding time and giving their baby a bottle, but if I’m completely honest, I’m just not one of those moms. I cannot tell you how glad I am to finally have bottles and formula out of our lives. Now, I can still cuddle and snuggle with my little one but I don’t have to take apart and wash bottles every evening. That’s a win-win in my book.

We also decided to give him goat’s milk made by our friends Michael and Sarah at their farm, Homestead Farms in Keller. Goat’s milk is closer to human milk than cow’s milk and much easier to digest but the more compelling reasons for going with goat’s milk is we know exactly where the milk comes from, how well the animals are treated (babyBaum has even met a few of the goats), and we get the chance to support independent farming and good friends. And, most importantly, babyBaum loves it!

Hopefully, I’ll have the party post up later tonight or tomorrow.

I don’t think parents talk much about the downsides to parenting. And believe me, there are some doozies. So, in an attempt to keep it real, let me share with you our little adventure last night.

This week has been much crazier than usual. It’s Fred’s call week, which basically translates into single-mother week at the Bierbaum household. And, I had a funeral to attend in Oklahoma on Tuesday. So, Fred traded call for Tuesday so that he wasn’t faced with the prospect of having to take Walt in with him should he get called to evaluate a kidney for transplantation. Such a call actually took place Monday evening (well, technically Tuesday morning at 3:00am) just hours before I left. So, Fred was pretty tired from his lack of sleep and he was on his own Tuesday evening. Naturally, that is when babyBaum came down with a stomach bug. I received a call from Fred early Tuesday evening ~

Fred: Are you coming back tonight or early tomorrow morning?

Me: Probably tonight.

Fred: Well, our son has projectile vomited on me three times in the last hour and we’ve taken three baths and, well, if you wanted to come home this evening, I wouldn’t have any objections to that.

So, I got back to Fort Worth around 12:30am and found both my boys passed out, sleeping from pure exhaustion. I really have a pretty sweet husband. Wednesday began just five and a half hours later with babyBaum cycling through a pattern of vomiting, diarrhea, and sleeping. Fred cut out to work at the first sign of daylight. Who could blame him, really? Cut to last night – babyBaum has been in bed sleeping for a few hours. I decide before we turn out the lights to go check on him one last time. I open his door and am overwhelmed by the stench. I run back to our room and tell Fred that we have a problem – I think our baby has actually exploded his insides all over the nursery.

We go back to the nursery for further investigation. At first, we keep the lights off. babyBaum is still sleeping soundly, oblivious to our presence. I reach to pat his bottom and feel gooey grossness. I tell Fred that I think we are dealing with some sort of diarrhea catastrophe. I roll babyBaum onto his back and feel sticky wetness all over the front of him. I tell Fred that I was wrong and that it appears to have been a vomiting catastrophe since it’s covering him from neck to toes. At that point we turned the lights on and all I can say is it looked like our son had rolled around in a pile of manure. Really soupy, gooey, DISGUSTING manure. Someone had to pick him up and as I already had made contact with that which made me want to vomit, it was up to me. So, I scooped him up, covering myself in his waste in the process. And that is when the shit really hit the fan. Really, you had to know that pun would be worked in here at some point, right?

Keep in mind that Fred and I were operating on little sleep at this point. Words were exchanged in heated tones while babyBaum kept cocking his head back and forth between the two of us with an amused smile as if we were putting on some sort of show for him. I suppose it was better for him to see it as a performance rather than the reality that his parents were on the verge of killing one another. I don’t remember all the details but I do remember Fred drawing a bath and wanting me to plop babyBaum into it and me (still covered in fecal matter, let’s remember) suggesting a shower would be more hygienic.

Fred: It’s not unhygienic to put him in a bath.

Me: I don’t want my son taking a bath in fecal water. I don’t see how that helps our situation.

I then remember him launching into a scientific discussion of fecal matter being parts per million of the water content, blah, blah, blah . . . me indicating that I was under the misguided impression that you were supposed to avoid fecal matter . . . he might have reminded me that he was the one with the medical degree . . . I might have reminded him more than once that he wasn’t the one holding the shit-covered baby . . . then,

Fred: Fine, I’ll drain the bath and YOU can give him a shower!

And then at precisely the same moment, two things occurred – my eyes narrowed with a glint that said, I dare you to leave me covered in yellow, runny, DISGUSTING poo to deal with this alone and his eyes widened with instant recognition that perhaps he should’ve uttered different words.

Fred: Um, or I’ll help you give him a shower. Or, I’ll give him a shower. All by myself!

I mean, really, it’s amazing that marriages survive having children. In the end, science triumphed over irrational fecal-related fears and babyBaum was bathed rather than showered. And, yes, I had to hear the parts per million explanation in detail again and yes, he was clean without any visible signs of contamination afterward. (Though, I still had my doubts as to non-visible contamination, but I’m not the one with the medical degree, so what do I know?)

I know at this point, some would say things like, but then babyBaum smiled at me right as I laid him back down on freshly changed sheets and it made me realize that it was all worth it. But, I’m not going to lie to you. It was horrifyingly disgusting and no amount of cute smiles or giggles or angelic faces made it anything but. So, if you’re ever in need of an effective birth control method, you could always bookmark this post. If only I had pictures or video, or better yet, scratch and sniff capabilities then I really would have an effective means of birth control to offer you.

This weekend we received sad news of a friend’s passing. Though expected, it still broke my heart, especially for his beautiful wife and beautiful children. I shared the following moments with my son who picked, of all days, the day I learned of this sad news to dance his little behind off and bring me smiles and joy even in the midst of sorrow. No one could have explained this to me before becoming a mother – that even in my saddest of moments there is hope and love and joy that is ever constant in the face and life of my child.

So, for your viewing pleasure, here is my dearest baby getting his groove on below. We kept changing the station to see how he would react and these were his 3 favorites (Country, Rap, and Rock). Smooth Jazz and Inspirational music only garnered a puzzled look from him. What can I say? He clearly takes after his father.

Fast Tube by Casper

Fast Tube by Casper

Fast Tube by Casper

So, as babyBaum’s first birthday is fastly approaching, my thoughts have turned to the oh-so-fascinating topic of switching from formula in bottles to milk in cups. (All of my male friends and single friends just stopped reading this post.) Twelve months is the magical month where all the baby books and experts direct you to ditch the formula and bottles in favor of whole milk. For us, it’s not the giving up of formula that is troublesome; rather, it’s the whole letting go of the bottle aspect that scares the hell out of me.

When it comes to sleeping habits, we tried everything and I mean EVERYthing under the sun to instill good habits from the get-go. Ha! Just writing that makes me laugh at the naive confidence we once had. I blame the colic for all the poor sleeping habits that were soon in place (after all, it couldn’t be anything Fred or I did wrong!). Long story short, after about five months of cry, scream, repeat, we finally relied on every crutch in the book, including giving him his last bottle in the dark in his rocking chair to slowly woo him into a state of sleepiness. We have successfully managed to rid ourselves of every other crutch, save the bottle. And, it’s not just during nighttime that we rely on the bottle. This is how he goes down for naps, too. He’s down to four bottles a day and they almost all revolve around his sleeping – morning bottle when he wakes up, second bottle before first nap time, third bottle before second nap time, and final bottle at bedtime.

I just can’t wrap my head around sleep time without the bottle. I am pretty sure it is not going to be pretty – and I know we don’t have to let go of the bottle exactly on his 1 year birthday, but I really could use some advice on how to let go? We’re leaning towards cold turkey since that is what has worked for us best in the past with letting go of other things, but we’re really at a loss on this one. So, any advice from those of you who have been there, done that? Did you just pick a date and switch to milk/cups only, or did you gradually take away the bottle? Did you have a baby who had a super strong sleep association with his bottle? How did you successfully break that association? FYI, he has been drinking water from his sippy cup for several months, but has only ever had water out of it. Any advice is appreciated!

So, after babyBaum arrived in our world, one of the hardest adjustments to make was how much longer simple tasks took. A trip to the grocery store that used to take 30 minutes once took 90 minutes because of the diaper changes, bottle feeding and soothing of grumpiness that had to take place within the walls of the store. Once, I literally collapsed onto a chair in the furniture department at Target and fed him his bottle right there. And, before anyone comments, yes, I always fed him right before leaving. Let’s just say that in the first five months of his life, babyBaum was the most unpredictable being on the planet. There was no way to time a trip to the store well. You just went and sometimes it worked out; other times, you admitted defeat and left your half-full grocery cart in the store and retreated home empty-handed.

Now that babyBaum is older and so much more predictable (something I’m continually thankful for), trips to the store are way more manageable. I can time them so that no diaper changes or feedings will be an issue and assuming the miracle of a nap has taken place at some point that day, we are golden! We can spend three hours straight running errands on those days (and actually get three hours’ worth of errand running done).

The only complication now is all the chatting my baby forces me to do with everyone – and by everyone, I mean probably 50% of all the people we pass. That might not sound like a lot of people, but think about it for a minute. If you had to stop and talk to 50% of the people you walk by in your life everyday – that would add up to a hell of a lot of people. I’m pretty friendly and extroverted but there is a limit to talking that even I feel must be in place.

At first I thought it was because babyBaum was just so cute (what can I say, I’m a biased mom!). But, I’ve come to realize that it’s because he engages with everyone around him. He studies their faces intently and waves and “talks” to them. He tries to share his snacks or toys with them and well, on top of that, he is pretty darn cute if I do say so myself. So, what’s a stranger to do? How do you not respond to this adorable baby initiating a conversation with you?

 But, it does make it difficult to get things done. Yesterday, for example – at the grocery store we were stopped by fourteen people who wanted to chat. Not just say “hi” to babyBaum but converse with me about how old he is, how cute he is, how they can’t believe he is so alert, what is his name, and then try to get him to wave again to them, give them high-fives, and more. FOURTEEN PEOPLE! If they were just saying hi to him or saying “what a cute baby” as they passed us, that would be manageable. But, to engage in five-minute conversations with fourteen strangers while trying to shop is a bit much. At the check-out line, at babyBaum’s initiation, I had conversations with five more people from three different lanes. As we were walking out, the cashier said to babyBaum, “Are you through holding court, now?”

I know there are worst things to suffer in life – I actually like talking to people with whom I wouldn’t otherwise converse. But, I think that most people missed the rule that having a baby present doesn’t give you carte blanche to disregard any and all boundaries. The other day, I met a friend at Starbucks and we could barely get any conversation in because everyone around us kept interrupting to talk to babyBaum or ask me a question about him. My friend and I were clearly trying to talk to one another, but that in no way stopped multiple people from interrupting us to engage with him. I even tried just ignoring them (during the times they were talking to him, not me) but that is really difficult to do without, ironically, feeling rude.

And, incidentally, I’m always taken aback at how many people ask babyBaum questions directly. It’s become a pet peeve of mine. I mean it is obvious that he can’t answer you and really you are just asking me, so at least look at me. I feel a little foolish answering for him and conversing with you when you are looking at him the entire time and not me. “How old are you, little one?” “He’s ten months old.” “You look so big for your age! You sure are a cutie.” “Um, thanks.”“What is your name?” Ugg – it makes me feel like I should put my hand in the back of his head and treat him like my dummy. But, I digress.

Despite all the annoyances that come along with it, I actually really love this aspect of babyBaum’s personality. Mostly because it’s so fun to see him – his own little self and personality already fully formed. It reinforces a strong belief I’ve always held – that babies arrive in this world as fully-formed beings deserving of their own respect as participants in this world and are not just extensions of their parents. And, while I would love whatever personality traits he had, I really, really love his intensity, that he is a such a student of the world around him, and his love of people and talking to people.

But, maybe we could work out some signal for when mommy is in a hurry and you could start fussing or something so we can get out of the store quicker? I’m just sayin’.