Observations of an 18-month-old Girl

If she asks for help putting her shoes on, she doesn't want you to put them on for her; she wants you to change the world so that shoes go on more easily.

She is absolutely enchanting, even on her potty chair.

She loves to push buttons on the phone, the computer, the remote... but nothing tops pushing Mama's buttons at the end of a busy day.

She's incredibly intuitive. If you say something like, "We're late! Gosh dammit, where are my car keys?" she will understand that "dammit" is the only word worth turning into a song to sing for Grandma.

I love her more every minute.

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

Out of Town

Just a couple of things before I go…

Remember that it's prunes in the morning, banana at night, and no eggs or broccoli after 2 p.m. Milk before you leave the house and only water in the car. Under no circumstances does GloWorm leave the house.

Oh, and don’t forget, you’ll need to pack a back-up outfit and extra books for Grandma's. You have to send her with enough milk for the whole day and divide it into separate cups, or Grandma will let her have all of it before noon.

I’m sure you two will be fine. Just try to get everything in the car before you get her out of bed, because it's too cold to leave her in the car seat while you pack and you can't leave her alone in her high chair (she might choke, and if you try to park her there with some toys she'll throw them against the wall in protest) so you'll have to carry her on your hip while you shuttle back and forth.

Make sure you leave the hatch open, because when you bend down to pick up her diaper bag she'll pick your pocket and take the keys, and if you get locked out of the house you'll have to call a locksmith, which you won't be able to do since you left your cell phone on the counter to remind you to make sure the oven is off before you leave, so you'll have to drive to a neighbor's house to use their phone, which you won't be able to do unless the hatch is open because she will have pushed the "LOCK" button just before dropping the keys in the crack behind her car seat, and the only way to reach them is to crawl through the hatch, so definitely leave the hatch open.

Unless it's windy, because every time you walk past the garage door opener she'll press the button and you'll end up with a back seat full of snow and old newspapers.

I guess that’s it. You have the number to the hotel, right?

I noticed two new teeth coming in, so if she’s cranky and chewing on everything you can give her a dropper of the infant Tylenol. Don’t let her hold the dropper because she’ll wave it around and get Tylenol in her hair.

And you know that rash she gets when she’s teething? There’s a new tube of Balmex on my vanity. She recognizes the tube, so you’ll have to give her something to hold, or she’ll slide her fingers in it and put them in her mouth before you can stop her.

The pink aspirator is there too, because she’ll probably get a runny nose. I know, I know, you’ve done it a hundred times… you’ll be fine.

Just make sure you hold her really still or she’ll toss her head just as you put the bulb in her nose and she could rupture her nasal passage.

That’s all.

Oh, yeah. Remember to put all of her musical toys away by 7:00, otherwise she has a hard time winding down for bed. If you change her diaper in the middle of the night, don't make eye contact and don't whisper anything soothing into the semi-darkness, or you'll never make it out of her room alone. And if she wears non-footy pajamas you have to put her socks on underneath the pajamas, or she'll pull the socks off and wake up in the night with cold feet.

All right, I guess I should go.

Dr. Martin’s number is on the refrigerator.

She’s tall enough now to open the kitchen drawers. She can’t reach into them yet, but she can smash her fingers when she closes them, so keep an eye on her. I know you always do!

Kiss, kiss. I love you!

Do you want me to take her ponytail out before I go? If the rubber band slides off she may find it and put it in her mouth. OK. I’m going. I know you two will have fun. I love you!

See you tomorrow!

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

The ABCs of You and Me

A is for angels who guard day and night
B is for batteries to keep GloWorm bright
C is for Corduroy and colic cured
D is for Dada - your very first word
E is for Elmo (whether I like it or not)
F is your first year - we've all learned a lot
G is your giggle, more precious than gold
H is the heaven your little hugs hold
I is for ice pack and instant relief
J is a jewel-colored early-fall leaf
K is for kicking through puddles and snow
L is for love - and someday, letting go
M is for Mama and melodies sung
N is for "no" at the top of your lungs
O is organization (my ongoing mission)
P is for prayer and pediatrician
Q is for questions and quiet and quest
R is a rascal resisting a rest
S is for silly and sweet and spontaneous
T is I treasure time just for the three of us
U is understanding that unfolds, unexpected
V is Daddy's voice saying, "We've been selected."
W is wonder and wander and wow!
X is for X-ray (headfirst from the stroller somehow)
Y is for you and Yahweh, we've been blessed
Z is your zeal and your unbridled zest!

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

The Myth of Sisyphus' Mother

Get out of bed. Take toy box and bucket of blocks out of the closet.

Get baby out of bed. Change baby's diaper. Dress baby. Unfold baby's chair. Feed baby. Wipe baby clean. Wipe baby's chair clean. Fold baby's chair. Wash baby's dishes. Put dishes away.

Play with baby. Baby takes blocks out of block bucket. Baby takes shoes out of shoe boxes. Baby takes cups and bowls out of cabinet. Baby empties diaper bag. Baby takes books off of bookshelf. Baby takes toys out of toy box. Baby takes magazines out of magazine rack. Baby tears pages out of magazines.

Change baby's diaper. Unfold baby's chair. Feed baby. Wipe baby clean. Wipe baby's chair clean. Fold baby's chair. Wash baby's dishes. Put dishes away. Take baby's soiled clothes off and put clean clothes on. Rock baby. Put baby to bed.

Put blocks back in block bucket. Put shoes back in shoe boxes. Put cups and bowls back in cabinet. Re-pack diaper bag. Put books back on bookshelf. Put toys back in toy box. Throw magazines away. Collect pages torn out of magazines and throw them away. Empty the trash. Replace trash bag.

Get baby out of bed. Change baby's diaper. Unfold baby's chair. Feed baby. Wipe baby clean. Wipe baby's chair clean. Fold baby's chair. Wash baby's dishes. Put dishes away.

Play with baby. Baby unfolds basket of folded laundry. Baby disassembles cordless phone. Baby hides pieces of disassembled cordless phone. Baby scatters Cheerios through three rooms. Baby unrolls toilet paper. Baby shreds unrolled toilet paper. Baby takes toys out of toy box. Baby dances on scattered Cheerios and crushes them to a fine powder. Baby discovers Inbox on desk. Baby empties Inbox. Baby takes blocks out of block bucket.

Change baby's diaper. Unfold baby's chair. Feed baby. Wipe baby clean. Wipe baby's chair clean. Fold baby's chair. Wash baby's dishes. Put dishes away. Take baby's soiled clothes off and put clean clothes on. Rock baby. Put baby to bed.

Re-fold basket of laundry. Search for pieces of disassembled cordless phone. Reassemble cordless phone. Vacuum Cheerios. Empty vacuum. Collect shredded toilet paper and throw it away. Replace roll of toilet paper. Put toys back in toy box. Refill Inbox. Find another piece of cordless phone. Disassemble and reassemble cordless phone. Put blocks back in block bucket.

Put toy box and bucket of blocks back in the closet. Go to bed.

Get out of bed. Take toy box and bucket of blocks out of the closet...


(The Myth of Sisyphus tells of a figure in Greek mythology who was condemned to spend eternity pushing an enormous rock to the top of a mountain. Each time he reached the peak the rock rolled back down and Sisyphus had to push it all the way up again.)

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

My Dream House

My dream house is round. There are no corners to hide wheeled toys or hair brushes from unsuspecting feet; no sharp edges to threaten tender temples or shins. If I can't find my keys or my kid, I just keep turning until they appear.

There are tiered shelves along the wall all the way around, and every twelve inches there's a hook attached to the bottom shelf. I never have to put anything away, because everything sits on a shelf or hangs on a hook.

My floor is an extraterrestrial material that looks like hardwood, wears like berber, feels like warm sand, and smells like fall. It absorbs crumbs, spills, dust, lint, odors, calories and fatigue.

The large windows are smudge-proof, streak-proof and break-proof. They're made of one-way glass, which means I can wear morning face with confidence and dance around in pink long johns and an orange Xanadu sweatshirt without fear of discovery.

Instead of a ceiling I have a domed skylight that never leaks or ices over. The glass retracts with the touch of a button, as a floor panel gently lifts me to the roof deck where my husband waits by an outdoor fireplace - with a gourmet organic meal and an unquenchable interest in my day.

There are no phones. There is no television. There are complete, mint-condition collections of Emily Dickinson, Ernest Hemingway, Robert Frost, Maya Angelou and Corduroy.

Clusters of self-feeding tropical plants maintain a perfect humidity balance and an internal temperature of 70 degrees.

There's a sound wave vacuum system in the wall that automatically adjusts a toddler's piercing scream to an "inside voice".

But the very best thing about my dream house is my bathroom. It's spotless, soundproof, completely impenetrable, and invisible to everyone on the planet except me.

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

Things I Hope I Never Have To Say Again

Please don't lick the baby.

No, honey, don't wipe your hiney with mama's toothbrush.

Honestly, Doctor Martin, I have no idea how she did it.

As a matter of fact, I know exactly how many balls of wet paper towel fit into our VCR at one time.

She was here just a second ago...

I think she ate a piece of rotten apple, but it could have been a sponge.

Dear God, what is that smell?

Really, I wish you'd let me pay you for the damage.

How on earth did you get up there?

I hope that was oatmeal, not vomit.

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

The Meaning Of Life

From where I stand at the kitchen counter popping cicis out of their skins for your dinner, I watch you and Daddy playing "Who's Your Favorite Traveling Wilbury?" (you always say "Jeff Lynne") and I understand that this is it.

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

I'm Back

A series of professional and personal developments has taken most of my time since early July. I'm happy to report that things are settling down and I'm beginning the work of bringing this blog back up to speed.

I'll talk with you soon!

Sally

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

From the Mommy Dictionary

one-year-old
wun-yeer-oeld
function: noun
1. a 20-23 pound amoeba wrapped in fly paper

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

The Olden Days

Little One, someday you will know that the world existed before you.
You will discover that Daddy and I were people before we were parents.
By the time you're curious about who I was before you were born, I may have forgotten, so this is for both of us:

Before you were born I spent money on myself.
I drove with one hand and tried to beat the light.
I had my own bathroom.
I wore earrings.
I was always on time.

Before you were born I had long, interesting conversations with your father several times a day.
I expected parents to be objective about their kids.
I secretly thought Mother's Day was overrated.

Before you were born I didn't know the fastest route to the hospital.
I didn't know how long I could run on a packet of oyster crackers and a handful of smoked almonds.
I had never fallen asleep while standing in my closet.

Before you were born I thought my floors were clean.
I subscribed to magazines.
I sometimes sat and thought about nothing in particular.

Before you were born I thought getting licked by someone with a mouthful of pureed squash was gross.
I wondered why mothers never ran out of things to talk about.
I was sure that most kids had too many toys.

Before you were born I thought I was busy.
I listened to talk radio in the car.
I imagined you with blond hair and blue eyes.

Before you were born I ate sitting down. At the table.
I left the door open at the top of the basement stairs.
I wanted twins.

Before you were born I had more time, more space, and more money.
I thought that mattered.

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

WWMD

What Would Mary Do?

That question has been my daily prayer for the last eleven months.

What would Mary do if Jesus had colic? Would she hold him while he screamed nonstop for 2 hours, or would she leave him on his pile of hay to cry it out?

What would Mary do if Jesus developed an obsession with the oil lamp? How many times would she patiently move it out of his ever-expanding reach before finally losing it and shrieking, "This is why I can't have anything nice!" 7 times? 70 times? 70 x 7 times?

What would Mary do if Jesus pulled himself up at an olive tree and scraped his cheek on the trunk, and then, as soon as she had dried his tears, pulled himself up at the very same olive tree and bonked his head as he turned to flash her a triumphant smile?

Did Mary ever set him down on the dusty road to Bethlehem just-for-a-minute so that she could take a drink of water? If Jesus, in that just-for-a-minute snatched something gooey and unidentifiable from the underside of the ox cart and crammed it in his mouth, what would Mary do? Would she yank Jesus up and try to get him to spit it out? Would she yell to Joseph, "Quick, do a finger sweep!" Maybe she would just take another drink of water and wait to see what happened.

At some point Jesus must have fallen headfirst off a donkey. He must have smacked one of his brothers with a wet palm frond, and spent an entire temple visit hollering MamaDadaMamaDadaMamaDadaMamaDada at the top of his lungs just to hear the echo.

What would Mary do if Jesus figured out how to unfasten his diaper or unlock Joseph's tool box? What if his favorite food was incense?

How would Mary explain God to Jesus?

What would Mary do to prepare Jesus for the rest of his life?

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

Five Stages

With apologies to Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

Denial
(1:45 a.m.)
That's not her, is it? It can't be. She's been sleeping through for months. Must be a garbage truck... or a cat... or a snow mobile... something. I don't know what, but it can't be her. Why would she be up?

Anger
(3:00 a.m.)
Over an hour, now. I don't believe this! How am I supposed to function tomorrow? It's not like I can take a day to recover. I have to write a column and make phone calls and answer emails and do finger plays and sing songs and pick up toys and make dinner and tickle & feed & haul 22 pounds of wiggling dead weight up and down the stairs, in and out of the stroller, the car seat, the bath tub, the grocery cart... How am I supposed to do all of that without any sleep? This isn't like you!

(3:35 a.m.)
You're obviously tired. Just put your head down and go to sleep. Down, Baby, down. You know 'down'. Why are you screaming at me? Believe me, I was much happier with you asleep. I sure didn't tell you to wake up.

Bargaining
(4:00 a.m.)
OK, Baby. Let's have a nice, refreshing bottle. Then Mama will give you a new diaper, and I'll rub your back and hum to you in the rocking chair. And you can peacefully drift off and sleep for what's left of the night. OK? If you go to sleep now, we can have a fun day together when you get up - several hours from now. Doesn't that sound good?

Depression
(4:35 a.m.)
That's it, then. This is my life. To teeter interminably on the razor edge of exhaustion, never released to either sleep or wake. Like a character from Greek mythology. I won't be able to write because my mind is like wet cement. I'll be permanently cranky and lose most of my friends, and I'll forget the ones I don't lose, because my memory is like a sieve. It's just as well, because I'll never again have enough energy to clean the house or... what is that other thing... that I do when people come over...? Bake. Yeah, bake. Much too tired to bake...

Acceptance
(5:15 a.m.)
It's all right, my love. We'll sleep another time. I'll stay with you as long as you need me. That's what it means to be your Mama. I'm sorry you had such a tough night. I love you. I'm here, Baby. Shhhhhhhhh. Mama's right here.


Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

The Gift of a Lifetime

On Mother's Day last year a young woman gave her mother flowers and a card and breakfast in bed. She thanked her mother for the years of unconditional love and encouragement. She thanked her for keeping God's presence alive in their home. She thanked her for adopting her seventeen years ago and giving her the only life she was meant to have.

They held hands and prayed that they would find another mother who would love and encourage unconditionally, who would keep God's presence alive in her home, who would adopt the young woman's baby - due a month later - and give her the only life she was meant to have.

On Sunday I will celebrate my first Mother's Day as a Mom. I'll sleep an extra half hour, finally find out the surprise my husband's been teasing me about, and not have to wash any bottles all day.

We will hold hands and pray for this extraordinary young woman who will never teach her first-born child to hold a spoon, or sound out the words in The Pokey Little Puppy, or say her prayers before bed. But we will.

Our daughter will know our love for the rest of her life because of her birthmother's love at the start of it.

Happy Mother's Day to mothers and birthmother's everywhere.

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

Grounded!

Yesterday was the stuff of January dreams. Beloved Spring exploded into a stellar day of warm breezes and fragrant colors. The air at dusk was gentle and exquisite, coaxing even the sun to linger long and luxurious.

As I watched my 10 month-old, button-obsessed daughter play with the telephone I thought, "This is a great life. We've been blessed with our baby, we live in a good neighborhood in a wonderful town, we're healthy, happy, and--"

Why is there a cop at the front door?

Yes, officer, everything is fine.
Yes, I'm sure.
911? From this number?
No, I didn't call...
Oh... oh, gee...

I'm awfully sorry to have inconvenienced you.
It's kind of funny, don't you think?
I mean, really, what are the odds that she would randomly dial 9-1-1?
Thank you for understanding. And for coming out so quickly. I'm really sorry!
Yes, thank you. You have a good night, too.

Phone privileges revoked.

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

Mommy Mail Bag - Teething

Dear Sally,
What kind of teething biscuits do you recommend?
Thanks,
First Time Mom

Dear FTM,
I suggest keeping a box of Zwieback and a box of Arrowroot in the house at all times. Teething babies love them and so will your friends and neighbors who pop in unexpectedly, most likely when you are freshly decked with slimy drool and don't have time to fuss in the kitchen. (It's not that your friends and neighbors have bad timing; it's that you will be freshly decked in slimy drool for most of the next three years.)

Sprinkle a bit of powdered sugar on the Zwieback and serve your "homemade vanilla biscotti" with confidence. Or wrap a frisbee in aluminum foil, slap down a paper doily and dump a box of Arrowroot biscuits on top. No one will guess the secret behind your lovely "shortbread tea cookies". If a summer birthday sneaks up on you, squash a glob of ice cream between a couple of Arrowroots for a festive party treat!


Dear Sally,
My daughter is 11 months old and is finally cutting her first teeth. The problem is that she has no interest in teething rings or chewy toys. I know she needs to bite, but other than my fingers, what can I give her to chew on?
Thanks,
Bitten Up

Dear BU,
If your daughter is able to scooch, crawl, walk, or otherwise get around the house, she will find plenty of things to chew on. You can help her by leaving the bathroom door open as often as possible. Most babies will chew enthusiastically on a toilet seat, a cabinet door knob or a bathroom scale.

If you have a Dust Buster or other handheld vacuum, by all means leave it in the middle of the family room floor. She will consider a mouthful of dust bunnies a small price to pay for the pleasure of gnawing on the vacuum nozzle.

Keys, computer flash drives, padlocks, pocket knives, and travel alarm clocks are delicacies to a teething baby. If you're afraid she may choke, tie a shoelace around the object for no-fuss, no-muss extraction.

Above all, relax and enjoy your daughter's development. Before you know it her teethmarks on the gas line will be all you have to remember this time.

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

National Day of Prayer

Tomorrow, May 4th, is the 55th annual National Day of Prayer.

The National Day of Prayer was established by a joint resolution of the United States Congress and signed into law by President Harry S. Truman. The United States was born in prayer and founded on a relationship with God, while instituting His biblical principals and moral values.

Events are scheduled across the United States to create awareness of the power of prayer and to:

Protect America's Constitutional Freedoms to gather, worship, pray and speak freely.

Encourage prayer for the challenges facing our families, our towns, our country and our world today.

Respect all people, regardless of denomination or creed.

National Day of Prayer is not a function of the government and, therefore, a particular expression of it can be defined by those who choose to organize it. It is about prayer, not about religion.

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

Nine Months

Nine months.
You've been apart from her for as long as you were a part of her.
How different were your months with her than with me...

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

Three Things I Don't Understand

1. The expression, "It's as easy as taking candy from a baby." Must be a heck of a lot easier than taking an uncapped marker, a nail file, a nickel, a Ziploc bag, a bar of soap, a bottle of saline, a computer mouse or a battery from a baby.

2. How my 21 pound 8-month old currently wears clothes labeled Newborn, 0-3 months, 3-6 months and 6-9 months. The weight-based clothing doesn't make any sense either, because she fits comfortably in clothes labeled 8-11 lbs., 9-16 lbs., 12-18 lbs. and 12-26 lbs. (I wish I had clothes that would accomodate a 14 lb. swing!)

3. I bought a board book yesterday that has a sticker on it: Warning. Choking hazard for children under three. What child under three can fit an entire book in her mouth? The only choking hazard I can find is the sticker itself.

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

Et tu, Baby?

I thought that we were the exception, you and I.
That our bond, spectacular and incomprehensible, would make a difference.
I see now that it was hubris to expect that you would leap-frog over your preordained curriculum for my benefit.
For in spite of the endless rounds of "You Are My Sunshine",
in spite of the grocery carts I abandoned half-full because you were tired,
in spite of the homemade baby food, the 2,501 faked pratfalls, and the time I went out at 4:00 in the morning (unfit for a dog fight) because you somehow outgrew your diapers in your sleep,
in spite of all the times I let you poke me in the eye to satisfy your curiosity...
Here they are. Your first words. Pure and deliberate...
"Hi, Dadda."

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

You Showed Me The Light

I'm sure glad we installed all of those outlet covers yesterday, so now (as you just demonstrated) you have something to pry off the wall and suck on while you're trying to poke your fingers in the outlets.

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

Daily Dose of Vitamin See

I love watching you sleep. Today while you napped, I gazed down lovingly and thought, Your whole face would fit on the side of a grapefruit!

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

Loosen up!

There must be a special place in Hell for crib sheet designers. I spent the last 25 minutes trying to change a sheet... I sprained my thumb, pulled a hamstring, taught Baby some not nice words... and she'll be napping without a sheet until Daddy gets home.

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

Jus rockin'

Don't want no knock,
don't want no phone.
Wanna rock my baby
'fore my baby is grown.

Don't bring the news,
I just wanna muse
on Baby's amazing, gazing blues.

Say, Old Mister Clock,
can you float me a loan?
I need more time--
all I had is flown.

Don't knock my door,
don't ring my phone.
I'm rockin' my baby
'fore my baby is grown.

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

Self-actualization

You are vibrant, joyous, and gloriously uncompromising.
You laugh or cry, accept or reject, do or don't, without apology or explanation.
Grown men compete for your favor, falling to their knees and offering treats to win your smile.
You eat only when you're hungry. You sleep when you're tired.
You sometimes spend an entire morning clutching your toes and rolling back and forth just because it's fun.
You'll try anything at least once, and you never pass up the opportunity to play in water.
You are wiser at six-and-a-half months than I am at... my age.

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

Nirvana

Every bottle is clean and ready.
All of the laundry is folded and put away.
Every primary-colored piece of furniture in the house is freshly swabbed and dry.
All things chewy, squeaky, crinkly, rattly, squishy, squashy, clacky and boing-y are resting quietly.
The baby has been fed, burped, bathed and changed.
There are no dishes in the sink, no newspapers on the table, no crumbs or beds or empty ice trays needing attention.

There is only this moment. This shining, perfect moment.

Nobody move!

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood

The Path to Enlightenment

There is a Buddhist saying,
"When the student is ready the teacher will appear."

And you did.

Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
Freelance Writer
Parenting
Motherhood