Posts Tagged ‘ Elmo ’

Fia’s First Halloween

Tuesday, November 1st, 2011

Abby Cadabby

Okay, technically her first Halloween was last year, but this is the first time she trick or treated. We went to this great street nearby in Silver Lake, where they close off traffic and the homeowners go all out with decorations, themes, etc.

Fia was Abby, from Sesame Street. But to be diplomatic, she carried an Elmo basket.

She didn’t understand that once you put the candy in your basket, you get to keep it. So at every house, she tried to give her candy back. Was really sweet actually.

We managed to do the whole block and get back home in less than 45 minutes, which was perfect for bedtime. And, it was a beautiful night. What a treat for us. We barely dodged that winter storm in New York. I hear some places in New Jersey had to cancel Halloween. Boo—Hoo.

Show me your pictures everyone. Want to see!

With Daddy and Grandma

 

Elmo Halloween Basket Or Babushka?

Add a Comment

Moving With a Barfing Baby

Wednesday, October 26th, 2011

We Broke All The Rules. TV. Pacifier.

When we got to JFK I saw 2 signs: one for the chapel and the other for the restroom. I wasn’t sure which one I needed more. Divine intervention or soap.

We had just left Brooklyn at 7 a.m. to begin our new life in LA. We looked like the Brooklyn-to-Beverly Hillbillies. We had Wayne Sanchez as one carry on, 4 other carry-ons, 4 pieces of luggage, her stroller, and of course we three humans.

The driver, like most of them in New York, kept hitting the gas and brake. Stop and go. Stop and go. I was getting worried, but just hoped we’d make it. No such luck. 10 minutes from the airport, Fia whispered, “uh oh” and out came the barf. It went everywhere. Luckily for us, I had asked to use the driver’s car seat, because I didn’t feel like dealing with installing ours at that hour.

I won’t go into the stench. All parents know how horrendous it is. Make that double horrid when you’re 7 months pregnant and your sense of smell is heightened.

Poor Fia was crying. The driver didn’t say a word. I’m sure he was furious. I told him we’d give him extra for the cleaning. Phil and I were dealing with the aftermath, trying to clean up Fia with wipes, but really there was no point. She just had to sit in her vomit. And we all had to sit in the smelly van with her vomit. The only person who wasn’t rattled was Wayne.

I rushed Fia to the bathroom and the kind TSA women who saw us rushed over some plastic bags for her clothes. Thank god for national security.

I gave her a bath in the sink and managed to get off the smell. Slightly redeemed, we rushed to our gate, the last to board, looking like the 3-ring circus we were.

The plane was packed. All our carry-ons had to go under the seat. Wayne took up so much space we were literally scrunched with our knees to our chest. Fia fell sleep on takeoff and landing. The remaining, oh, 5 hours or so, was sheer entertainment and avoiding the ambush.  Wayne didn’t make a peep.

This may have been the worse travel day of my life. Oh, but it gets better.

(more…)

Add a Comment

Milestone Monday: Potty Training and Pooping (Just Not in the Potty)

Monday, October 17th, 2011

Wonder What Elmo Thinks of This??

We haven’t started officially potty training yet. But we did buy the little toilet. Glad I made the purchase, since Fia loves to throw her little Sesame Street figures in it. When Elmo hits the bottom of the bowl, the toilet thinks she pooped. And out comes a tune. The “Pooping Elmo,” I call it. Maybe Hasbro wants to talk to me. I may be onto a great new marketing strategy.

At any rate, I figure with the L.A. move this week, potty training is the last thing we need to deal with.  Especially since last night the following, um, “event” occurred:

I sometimes take Fi’s diaper off, close to bedtime, just to let her “air out” a little bit. I call it our “Buns free, watch me pee” time. That’s because at least a few times a week, she stands next to the potty and watches her pee cascade down her leg onto the floor. Last night, she became an overachiever and took it a step further.

As I was heating up her bottle, I heard something rare in our house: silence. When your toddler stops making noise, you know something is going on.  I slowly turned around, scared to see what mischief she was up to, only to find her lifting one leg (like a dog), crapping on the floor. I shrieked. She laughed. Then, thinking this was a fun game, she began to step in it. I rushed over and grabbed her, aiming straight for the shower.  But she somehow slid her butt down on my pants. So I’m literally covered in chunks of her s—t. (Is that too graphic? Sorry, but it’s the truth of motherhood).

I’m happy to say we both survived the s—t show. And in my true clean freak self, I scrubbed the floors with rubbing alcohol to disinfect the area (and scrubbed us both down as well—with soap, not alcohol. I’m not that bad). But this doesn’t make me particularly excited about potty training.  I’m sure this is chapter one of many.

I know you all have your poop and potty-training stories. This was just my entrée into this exciting, smelly world. So let me hear them. We all need to add some humor to our Monday, right?

Add a Comment

My TV Addicted Toddler

Wednesday, September 7th, 2011

Practice Makes Perfect

Practice Makes Perfect

I’m getting closer and closer to having an official television addict. Hope to have mission accomplished by our next flight in about 6 weeks. This last one showed great promise, ie: tantrums on takeoff and touchdown (when DVD players aren’t allowed). Once airborne, there were chunks of quiet time–mesmerized by Baby Einstein videos–followed by throwing objects when it ended.

Things that still need to be refined: teaching her to not take her headphones off. This will eliminate the meltdown that happens from lack of sound. Making her understand that the eject button is her worst enemy. When pressed it leads to reloading the whole DVD, which leads to great frustration when I can’t fast forward through the FBI copyright warning.

There are a few more, but all in all, I think she’s getting it. We’ll practice more in the coming weeks from home since I find feeding her is far easier when she is watching television. In 20 years she can blame me at her Video Anonymous meetings, but until then, I’m taking the road of least resistance.

Add a Comment

Sesame Place

Sunday, August 7th, 2011

Showtime at Sesame Place

Showtime at Sesame Place

I finally broke down and did it. Became that person I never thought I’d be. I took Fia to Sesame Place. I think it may have been the best day of her little life thus far. The crazy thing is, it was one of my best too.

It was swelteringly hot with lots of crowds and crappy food courts. Basically everything I hate about amusement parks.

But seeing the look on her face when she saw Elmo in real life—(to quote the credit card ad) priceless. We were watching one of the many live shows and when he took the stage, her little 19-month-old body jumped up on the bench and started screaming and pointing “Elmo! Elmo!” I just sat there and watched her joy.

It must be how I look and act at a Madonna concert—though Fia’s much cuter in her innocent enthusiasm. And sober.

At another show she was in such a state of awe, she just sat there, jaw open, eyes wide–mesmerized. During the parade she was on my shoulders, pointing and shouting again. Cookie monster came by and high fived her. I debated ever washing her hands again.

Sesame Place Parade

Sesame Place Parade

There are really no words to describe what happens when you become a parent. And what happens when you live life through your children’s eyes.  I get so happy seeing her happy, it makes me physically weak.

I often wonder if men have same physiological reaction that women do when it comes to their kids. I know my husband can’t get enough of Fia. And when she hugs him or laughs at him, I can see him melt. But do they feel it in the same primal way as we do? Or is it different? I’ve asked him, but because he can’t walk in my shoes, he doesn’t know. He just knows he’s head over heels. None of this matters. Love isn’t a contest. I’m just curious if anyone can love her as strongly and deeply as I do.

At any rate, I told Phil he has to take a day off work in the next couple months and go to Sesame Place with us. He has to experience her in this fairytale of amusement park horrors. Then we can both officially become the people we never thought we’d be: Parents.

Add a Comment