Tea Time with Tiffany #69 - Loose teeth & banishing stress!

TGIF everyone, and welcome to this week's perkier edition of:

Today I talk about my nostalgia over loose teeth, how the Fall 2016 Managing Stress is going, and how remembering dance choreographies is a point of creative pride for me (mostly because I cannot remember anything else :0). Join me!





**To subscribe to the audio version of Tea Time with Tiffany, just search for it in iTunes or use this link to subscribe via Feedburner in your podcatcher of choice. Intro music is "Tea Ceremony" from PlayonLoop.com

Items mentioned in this episode:

• St. Apollonia wood doll
• Himalayan Salt Lamp
• My Scentsy page, where you can find lavender scented wax and oils out the wazoo ;-)
• The joy of diffusers

How is your October faring, dear listener? Do you struggle with loose teeth in kids the same way I do? How is your stress management going? Do write in!

Of painful weekends and Mystery Knit-alongs...

Well, I'm alive. I think that after the weekend I just had, that's the good news. Let's get started...

Saturday was good. All was normal, Mike and I went out to dinner to celebrate our 8th anniversary (actual date is Tuesday). Then I woke up on Sunday. Hank comes downstairs crying.

And so it begins...

Hank is sick. His head and stomach hurt, he says, plus he's cold and his "whole body feels weird." We tuck him into the couch with an afghan and some juice. Anne meanwhile, hasn't slept well at night nor napped well in days, and it's clear that she's once again teething due to her drooly ways and consequent stinky sleepers. She begins a reign of terror that lasts from the moment she awakes at *5:40 am* until 6:30 pm, when we literally couldn't take it another moment, and shipped her up to bed. Besides when she napped, all she did ALL DAY LONG was the following:

(1) Screamed;

(2) Cried;

(3) Threw self on floor;

(4) Asked for things (like a cup of milk, or some cheese) and then when handed aforementioned item, threw them down violently; broken up only by some

(5) Whining.

At one point, I offered her one of her favorite books, and do you know what she did?

She made A DISMISSIVE SOUND and TURNED HER BACK ON ME!  Attitude was positively *oozing* from every pore. It was just one of those days in which you wonder who replaced your sweet, loving toddler with this feral, demon child.

It was ugly.

Anyway, I don't know when I've ever heard so much crying for such a long period of time, ever.  Over the din, I was telling Mike that for me, hell would be listening to a baby cry on a non-stop repeat forever and ever. It makes me so anxious to hear a continually crying baby, I just want to jump out of my own skin. For Mike, we agreed that hell for him would be being strapped down and for ALL ETERNITY and being forced to watch full volume reruns of Here Comes Honey Boo Boo. But I digress.

All this fun and I haven't even finished chronicling the day yet.

The highlight of the day was definitely Mass, and the feast of the Epiphany. Henry was too sick to accompany so, so I sadly went alone. He was looking forward to seeing the wise men arrive at the nativity scene from their perch of traveling across the altar for the past couple of weeks. I went up to the nativity so that I could take mental notes and describe it to Hank when I got home. The wise men looked lovely in their gold robes.

And the Epiphany has always been special to me. I read in a "Name Your Baby a Saint Name!" book years ago that Tiffany is derived from Epiphana, so therefore I consider my name a Catholic name; it makes me happy, so humor me.

After I arrived home and had lunch however, the day took yet another turn. I was really tired from being up with Anne, but I felt kind of weak. Chilled. Achey. Uh oh...

Suddenly, I felt lousy. I was so cold I could barely function and it hurt to lift Anne or generally cavort about the house. I had zero appetite.

I was miserable. I felt absolutely awful and there was no rest for the weary. Anne's screaming did not cease for a sick mom. Mike was doing all of the heavy lifting with regard to the kids but it's not like I could relax with Anne's antics reverberating through the house. It was a LONG day.

By the time she fell asleep in my arms before 7 pm I couldn't believe that I had made it. I was in bed before 9 pm. Good riddance on that one.

This morning, I had a fever rash (I get these all the time after I'm sick, real attractive) and had lost 3 pounds.  I'm just glad that that is over.

But in exciting news, the Downton Abbey Mystery Knit-along started yesterday, the first clue has been posted! I've taken a look at it, but I have not knit it yet. It appears that we are knitting gauntlets (what I would call long fingerless gloves). There is a provisional crochet cast-on, which I've never done before, and a lace panel in the first clue. I'm a bit intimidated, but can't wait to dive in later today!

Second Sunday of Advent and all it's adventures...

Well, my weekend was interesting, never a dull moment in my household. Saturday morning dawned with Anne clearly feeling under the weather. In fact, Anne not feeling well dominated both days and nights of our weekend, with the telltale signs being:

(1) lots of sneezing and a runny nose,

(2) a small fever,

(3) poor sleeping,

(4) diminished appetite, and

(5) marauding around the house doing nothing but (a) sobbing, and (b) throwing things.

It was a long weekend, to say the least.

I didn't know if I was even going to make it to Mass Saturday morning for the feast of the Immaculate Conception, she was just so miserable, but she settled enough for me to feel all right about leaving her with Mike (meaning, I didn't feel guilty about leaving him alone to deal with such a painful situation!) so that I could go. I went, and it was lovely.

Later, she actually seemed to perk up a bit, her fever went away, and she was drinking liquids like a champ. Mike wanted to go to the vigil Mass for the second Sunday of Advent, so we packed up both kids and went. Hence, I did end up doing 2 Masses in 1 day. :) But honestly, they felt so different from each other. It also helped that I went to 2 totally different parishes. For the vigil, we went to a historic church downtown that Mike loves. Both children were good, aside from Anne dumping her Ziploc baggie of small snacks onto the floor while we were standing up to recite the Creed. I was picking up stray raisins for the rest of Mass.

But it was really beautiful, and I'm so glad we went. By the overnight, Anne was back to her crankfest. She was a bit hoarse and was obviously feeling parched, because when she demanded my presence at 5 am in her bedroom, our conversation was as follows:

"JUICE."

"Hi Honey, Mommy is here to..."

"JUICE!!!"

"We're going to snuggle and..."

"JUICE JUICE JUICE!!!"

She doesn't like to take no for an answer, that one. I think she is also getting a new tooth, because she's been drooling up a storm. This all led to an absolutely ABYSMAL night last night in which Anne demanded milk, threw herself onto the floor, and cried for what seemed like 30 straight minutes, all *while I'm holding her and trying to soothe her*. It was ugly.

So I'm recovering a bit today. :) She was still on a rampage this morning, so not much has improved in that regard. We'll get there.

DOES THIS EVER END?! In other words, teething...

I found out long ago, when Henry was a baby, that teething is absolutely endless. It seems to start when the baby is approximately one month old and lasts until they start school. Doesn't it seem that way to you too?

I wish they were just born with teeth. I really mean that. Sort of like that freaky half vampire baby in the Twilight series. Many think this poses a challenge to nursing, but I poo-poo them. Nurse a baby with teeth I will do (and have done), but the endless night wakings due to teething pain is just debilitating.

As you might imagine, we're still very much navigating this with Anne. Rest assured (just in case you were worried, snort) that ever since she turned a year old, we've had many, many good nights. It's just that we still have bad ones mixed in there, and lately, more of them.

Last night I could tell Anne wasn't herself. When I put her down, she wouldn't fall asleep right away, and I knew this was a bad sign. Sure enough at 2 am I got The Call. I went in to rock her, and she needed lots and lots of snuggling. My mom has taught her some baby sign language, and she signed to me that she wanted some milk and cookies.

At 2 am? I don't think so, sister.

I rocked and cuddled her for a long time and miraculously, she didn't say a peep when I put her back in her crib, and she went back to sleep. She even slept in a hair later than usual this morning.

But when she did wake up, watch out! She's extra tired because she's not getting enough sleep, rendering her behavior downright cheeky. I caught her very nonchalantly TRAVERSING THE DINING ROOM TABLE. And when you pull her down she kicks and throws herself on the ground in a very dramatic fashion.

Also, I don't know what it is about fleece, but that stuff absorbs odor like nothing I've ever smelled before. When she's teething her sleepers just STINK, all the time. This morning, she was giving off an Eau de Pee Pee, but also that moldy drool scent. YUCKY. Her bath was just over 12 hours ago, and yet she needed another one.

*sighs*

Anne continues to molarize, and I need to get my dance mojo on

Anne's new molar continues to grow, but meanwhile I swear there's another one right behind it. She's drooling like crazy and incredibly crotchedy. I hope she has a new tooth by the end of the weekend.

As for me, I have dance tonight after being off last Friday for the holiday weekend, and I made the horrifying discovery today that our hafla is in 2 weeks. I'm rather terrified about this. I haven't been practicing in the evenings for the past week or so, and I know it's because I'm in denial. I'm nervous about my solo (the improvisation, who bright idea was that?!) so I'm avoiding it, which is a really bad idea. I went through my index cards today and that helped. I need to channel some happy bellydance energy in a hurry.

So, I'll do what I can and report in on Monday. Tomorrow is going to be a long day because Mike is going to a baseball game with his dad so I'll be fielding the children, and I have to run Henry to a birthday party and Anne over to my parents' house, and then back for dinner with everybody, and it'll be a little crazy. If I make it through that, I can bellydance on Sunday, sigh. Henry's party is at the local science museum, and the theme is "grossology." Doesn't that sound lovely? I'm planning to bring my knitting bag and my Kindle and pray for the best.

Anne has her first molar, and other baby news

Last night, I awoke at about 4 am. Hark! What is that noise?

*baby cries*

I tried to go right back to sleep, since Anne sleeps through the night now, so this has to be a nightmare.

No such luck.

It was Anne. And she was pissed.

I did wait just a hair to see if she'd go back to sleep on her own, but that, of course, would be too simple. It goes without saying that she didn't. I head into her room to find her gnawing on the side of her crib. I checked her diaper, just to be sure she didn't sneak a poo in, and she hadn't. So I just held and rocked her for a time. She was pretty squirmy with her newly slimmed down legs kicking a lot, but she settled in, and I tucked her back to sleep. Unfortunately, she didn't actually fall asleep again right away, so we were all pretty tired this morning. Alas.

But this morning, I had a sneaking suspicion, and took a feel inside her mouth. I found a brand new lower molar through her gums. Eureka! She seemed in much better spirits when I left for work this morning.

But anyway, other exciting baby news. No, I'm not making an announcement, just so you know. :) My younger sister is expecting, which we've known about for some time. Very exciting. The other day she went in for her ultrasound and I was all anxious to know if she was going to find out the baby's gender. She was under strict instructions to call me after the ultrasound.

One hour goes by. Then two. I start to worry.

Suddenly...hark! The phone rings. I pounce on it.

"How did it go?"

"Um...not exactly as we were expecting."

!

What does that mean?! It can only be a girl or a boy, right?

Wrong. :)

She's having TWINS. Twin baby boys, to be exact.

We're incredibly excited. But equally terrified for her, of course. :) Her kids will play together *so well* though, it'll get easier and easier I think. I'm an eternal optimist.

So for me, of course, this means that I'm going to have to knit MORE and FASTER. I've been working on this, but my fingers can only move so fast.

Oh, and my record for gender prediction stands at 100%. I am *wrong* 100% of the time. I predicted girl for my sister. I was WRONG, WRONG, VERY WRONG.

Cam, I think you're having a girl. So if you indeed have a boy, my record will remain intact. :)

Hanging in there...

...by a thread, but I'll take it. Last night was less bad. That's one of my most commonly used phrases these days, "less bad." :) And a tooth appears to be *just* below the gum line. Please God, that it arrives this weekend.

She's so cute though, toddling around the house. Does this mean that she's a toddler now? *sniffle* I want her to still be a baby. She's MY baby, no matter what.

I have dance tonight, so hopefully I'll still be awake. Anne too loves to dance, and I cannot WAIT for her to be old enough for ballet. She bops around whenever I'm practicing in the kitchen after dinner. She's so totally precious.

Next week, I'm also going to start taking a 6 week prop balancing class at my dance studio. I'm SO excited. Me trying to balance a sword on my head while dancing is a bit of a scary proposition, but I think it'll be highly entertaining. Props make me nervous because I want to be in control of everything when I'm dancing, and sometimes they have a mind of their own. I'll be sure and report in.

But seriously, I love belly dance. LOVE it. I love the dance, but I also love the women that I dance with. They're such a blessing. And the studio is close to my house, so I'm never gone that long when I go. We have a hafla coming up in June, and I'm plotting out my solo. Terribly excited.

Why are a few teeth such a problem?!?!

WHY GOD, WHY?!

Oh man. Anne has 6 teeth, and has once again been drooling like crazy for A FREAKING ETERNITY, and yet, she still has just 6 teeth. And last night, she did this thing that she does when she's teething: she wouldn't go back to sleep. So our night looks like this:

7:30 pm - Anne goes to bed

7:45 pm - Anne falls asleep

8 pm - Catholic Librarian, hubby, and Henry play Clue

8:15 pm - Henry goes to bed

8:30 pm - Catholic Librarian and hubby happily watch part of Pride & Prejudice

10 pm - Happy couple goes to bed

10:10 pm - Anne awakes

10:15 pm - Nurse Anne in bed

10:30 pm - Put Anne back in crib

10:31 pm - Anne sobs

10:40 pm - Re-nurse Anne in bed

11 pm - Put Anne back in crib

11:05 pm - Anne sobs

11:15 pm - Rock Anne in rocker

11:30 pm - Anne falls asleep. Place Anne in crib.

11:35 pm - Anne sobs

11:45 pm - Bring Anne into our bed. It's evident that she has no interest in nursing

12 am - Anne attempts to crawl around our bed, wide awake

12:05 am - Re-attempt a nurse and rock session.

12:30 am - Anne falls asleep. Place Anne in crib.

12:35 am - Anne sobs.

You get the picture. By time she finally fell asleep, it was 1 am, and I was beside myself. I think I cried as much as she did. She's nearly 11 months old; I just want to sleep normally again.

Granted, most nights aren't that bad. That was a Top 5 Worst Nights Ever performance. This morning, I was so tired, that when I was getting ready in the bathroom for work, I didn't notice what Anne was doing until she actually took a bite out of a bar of soap.

Mother of the Year award, coming my way...

Sigh.

!

ANNE CUT ANOTHER TOOTH.

This makes 6, and yet SHE'S STILL TEETHING. Actively. She tried to suck on the rocking chair last night when I was trying to soothe her back to sleep. So, we're still working on this, but I am grateful that she has 2 brand new little fangs in the past 3 days.

We're hanging in there, but sleep is still an issue. She was only up one time last night, but we were up for about 2 hours together. We did watch a nice episode of The Golden Girls together. :)

So, we'll see how tonight goes, but it seems like the pushed back bedtime is really helping. She's terribly cute, though. Terribly, terribly cute.

The birds tell me that spring is here...

...but it's hard for me to tell, since I can hardly see straight I'm so tired. Last night was another Hall of Famer "We'll Torture Her By Talking About This Night Until She Grows Up And Has Her Own Kids." BECAUSE THEN SHE WILL UNDERSTAND.

I knew it was coming though, because she screamed for the entire evening, and it wasn't just her regular "I'm tired!" cry. It was much more intense than that, and I knew it had to be her teeth. Plus, she's soaking whole sleepers with her drool.

So, then the night commenced, and we won't dwell on it, lest I slip down into a sleep-deprived depression. We'll just say it was bad. Real bad. Luckily, Mike and I have navigated these types of nights before, and so we were still speaking to each other this morning. Sleep deprivation brings out the worst in us, like it does most people, I would think.

And so this morning, as I drove onto campus, I saw a robin. Precious little guy! His arrival means that surely, spring is right around the corner. And so is sleep. Please God.

I have belly dance tonight, and somehow I have to manage to drag my pathetic self there because we have a performance on Sunday. How I'm going to manage to dance when I can barely climb the stairs is still a mystery, but somehow, I'll work it out.

Here's hoping that when I post on Monday, I'm perky and well rested. :)

*collapses*

Sorry for the dearth of posts lately. I had every intention of posting yesterday, but well. Let's see...

I arrived at work in a sleep-deprived stupor, so that didn't exactly start things off with a bang. Anne was just up and up and UP, and she just wouldn't go back to sleep once she was up, which is what she does when she's sick or teething. So I was exhausted. Yet another OPERATION: LOOK ALIVE dispatched in the early morning hours so that I could show my face in public. Oh, and I found a few more gray hairs. And this after my previous efforts to rid myself of them (CL:"I'm very upset about all this gray hair I seem to be getting." Mike: "I don't see any gray hair." CL: "That's because I pulled them all out.") So I was in a *great* mood to start off the day.

I had a reference shift. No, wait, a meeting. It just happened to *last* nearly as long as a 2 hour reference shift. I'm not bitter or anything. I mean, I finished my tea 45 minutes in and was ready to leave then, but apparently other people like meetings. I suppose some things just can't be explained.

Then I had to quickly pump. I had a few business-related emails to get out. Then I had to get my computer ready for it's upcoming upgrade. Well, unfortunately for my computer, it was getting retired. I was slated to get a new machine, and one would have thought I would be happy about such a thing.

But I wasn't. Because I have a Type A personality and I like all my little ducks in a row. I was used to my old computer. I liked him very much. He and I had an understanding. He ran a little slow sometimes, but I put up with it because he put things where I could find them and satisfied my other needs. Since we have only very old and slow computers at home and have no desire to pay for new ones, my small iTunes library lives on my work computer. And I was panicking about moving everything over without losing anything.

I set about following Apple's directions for saving the library. I let it do it's thing and went on my knitting lunch break. When I returned, 25 minutes prior to my new computer arrival, I found that the save had aborted about a quarter of the way through because I didn't have enough space on my iPod.

!!!!!!!!!!!

There commenced Panic Attack #1. I called our wonderful IT group and asked if they could come an hour later than scheduled, and they graciously agreed. I set back to work trying to save everything to my iPod (hereinafter, "Max") so that I could use him as a hard drive to reload the content back onto iTunes on the new machine.

Why didn't I think of using my external hard drive? I have no notion, because I left that at home. As I experienced Panic Attack #2, I cursed myself for being an absolute idiot.

I had to move things around and delete some stuff to create more room on Max. Panic Attack #3. Then I realized that I couldn't find the iTunes folder back on the C drive so that I could always go back to it in case my great "iPod as a hard drive" idea failed. Panic Attack #4. So I had to copy the folder from Max back to the C drive and I nearly didn't have enough time before the IT folks arrived. Panic Attack #5.

By time they got here, I was a wreck. I was over-tired and anxiety-ridden. And then they installed my new machine and there was my iTunes library, with all the content therein, because they had copied it over for me.

*a thing of beauty*

And all those panic attacks were for nothing.

So then I went home and dealt with a needy and exhausted Anne and a hyper Henry. And when we sat down to watch Downton Abbey later, Anne woke up.

And there commenced Abysmal Night #111. Mike and I were so tired that we actually lost count of how many times she woke up. I brought Anne back to her crib around 2 am, and 10 minutes later she was up again, and Mike seemed all confused when he brought her back to our bed and I mentioned that she'd only been in her crib for 5 minutes. He's slept right through that particular part of our nightmare. :)

And that little fang still hasn't broken through the gum.

*sobs*

More teething woes

I was hoping for a more substantive post today, but there you have it. I know everybody will feel sorry for me regarding teething issues, so I decided to just go with that. :)

Anne is cutting another tooth. It's on the top, next to the middle teeth, whatever those are called. The vampire fang teeth. And as you can imagine, she's not real happy about it. Nor are we.

Mike: "Sleep wasn't this bad with Henry when he was this age."

CatholicLibrarian: "Oh Honey, how sweet, you've repressed the memory so as to make that time a happier place in your mind, that's nice. Because it *was* this bad. It really was."

Alas. But I can see the tooth *just* about to come through the gum line. Plus she's drooling. Everywhere. And whenever guests come over we're forced to warn them:

"Aww.... she's so cute! I think she wants to suck on my finger..."

"CAREFUL!!! She bites."

And it *hurts*. But she's gnawing on everything. Our limbs. Her toys. Her crib. The couch. The curtains. I even catch her trying to align her mouth with drawer pulls and other cabinet fixtures.

I remember this from Henry. It just goes on, and on, and ON.

Oh sigh.

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

ANNE HAS CUT HER SECOND TOP TOOTH.

*angels sing*

If this isn't a good birthday present, I don't know what is.

That, and the dinner at the Melting Pot that is Mike is taking me to tonight. So much cheese consumption will commence. Although must modify such that the new sweater that I'm knitting will still fit, given that it has a stranded section in the middle, and my tension was *just a hair* too tight. So, not too much cheese.

But still cheese.

Morning discovery:

(1) Anne crawls up to me, whining.

(2) I nurse Anne.

(3) I put Anne down.

(4) Anne bursts into tears and clings to my pant leg.

(repeat this, btw, on an endless cycle daily for the past 2 weeks, including additional fun like nap refusals and waking up howling 10 minutes after we put her down for bed).

But this morning, when I gently put my finger to her top gum, I felt:

A sharp tooth edge.

PRAISE.JESUS.

Because we seriously couldn't stand it anymore. We're all exhausted.

I did think it was terribly adorable after she got her first 2 teeth (bottom center) a month or so ago when I overheard Henry sit next to her and say:

"Look at your little teeth, Anne! They're really getting taller!"

Like he needed to encourage her in her tooth growing endeavors.

Precious.

What happens when the baby is up multiple, multiple times per night?

(1) At 6:30 am, when we all need to get up, she will inevitably be sleeping.

(2) I will be cranky.

(3) Anne will be in a great mood.

(4) We'll all need to rush around more than usual to get ready.

(5) Inevitably, before I even have to rush out of the house, Anne's disposition will sour, and she will begin to sob.

(6) Anne will be down for a nap even before 8 am.

(7) I, on the other hand, will go to work and have a difficult time keeping my eyes open for any meeting that even borders on being boring. Which, you know, by definition is *most* meetings.

(8) Someone will likely ask me about Anne, and how she is sleeping. They will then tell me about how their baby slept through the night at some unfathomably early age, and I may fantasize about slapping them.

That's just the way some days go, I suppose...

I wish they just came with teeth

Experience has taught me that in baby land, one night has nothing to do with another. You can have a miserable couple of weeks, and then BAM! She sleeps for 9 hours. You just never know.

I will say though that misery tends to slowly creep up on you, sort of like a fungus. One night she sleeps for 8 hours (glory!), the next 6 (very good!), the next 5 (fine), the next 3 (what the heck?), the next 2 (*?!@#)

And so this is what we've been going through. Anne is both teething and stuffy from a cold. This is what is known as a deadly combination. Last night she was up so many times I actually lost count. I knew why, so I didn't despair. But very much not fun all the same.

And I have a marathon dance practice session tonight, and my hafla tomorrow night. I don't like to worry about her getting up when I'm not there, but what can I do?

I've been practicing like crazy, and I'm very nervous, especially given that my new costume is showing signs of "downward migration" when I dance. My mother-in-law is going to sew some sticky stuff into the top of the skirt for me Saturday morning. Still nervous.

*bites nails*

Great...

I think Anne is showing signs of early teething. Why is it that my kids do these unpleasant things so ridiculously early? Henry had a tooth by around 5 or 6 months, and it was misery. I mean, I know they have to get them eventually, but it seemed like he teethed and drooled for about 2 straight years.

Here are the signs: she's drooling. She's been a little extra fussy, and in a different way than previously. She's sucking on her fists a lot. Her spit up has been real mucousy (sorry for that extra bit of information). And my sore nipples. I read that sore nipples with babies that have already been nursing for awhile can result from a changed latch when gum pain starts. Wonderful. My nipples are feeling a bit better, by the way, thanks to the lanolin and the shield. Just in case you were wondering.

I swear it, I wish they were just born with teeth. Like Bella's freakish baby in the Twilight series. Whenever I say that, everyone always replies, "well, you wouldn't want to be breastfeeding if that were the case!" Which, while well intentioned, is actually untrue. :) If you breastfeed for a year or longer, chances are you're nursing your baby who has teeth. I did with Henry, for quite a long time. It doesn't interfere with their latch, and their teeth don't touch your nipple. They may accidentally bite you (or they may never do this, Henry didn't) but if you de-latch them, they'll quickly learn that doing this makes the milk go away, and the problem won't persist. So again, I maintain, why can't babies just be born with teeth and save us all this misery?

I think I should submit a formal petition to God for this design change.