Mommy Thumb...

AKA de Quervain's tenosynovitis
Also check out: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/DeQuervain's_syndrome

Some of you may know that about a month after Speck was born I started complaining about my right wrist hurting. It got better and worse, and better, and worse again, and then my left wrist started hurting the same way, and then my thumbs started dislocating at the slightest pressure--which um, smarts a bit. Also makes it kinda hard to do stuff. Well, anyway, this is the name of what is wrong with me.
It is called "mommy thumb" sometimes because it is more common in new moms. Back in the day it was thought to be due to wringing out diapers, but since disposables have pretty much cut that out, the theory is now that it is caused by the awkward hand positions used to lift and hold the baby. I read somewhere that golfers seem prone to it as well.

Most people who develop this get better with some rest and anti-inflammatory meds, but here I am almost a year later and it is not well. I have tried various pills and shots and splints, but these have done little more than keep me functional, without fixing it. There is some reason to believe that my thyroid condition and also potential rheumatoid arthritis may be playing a role in making mine a stubborn case.

At this point the only thing I haven't tried is surgery. The docs tell me the success rate for the procedure is above 90%. It's outpatient and recovery is generally quick. Not to give too much gory detail, but they go in and clean out any inflammation and kinda ream out the tendon sheath so everything can move around freely again.

It looks like I will be having this procedure on the right hand in June. They won't do both hands at the same time, for obvious reasons.

L33t Mad Skillz

New stuff Speck is working on right now:

• Cruising: having finally mastered the classic crawl and pull-up, Speck is now making more progress toward walking. He pulls up on the couch (or window sill or hearth, or whatever is handy) and then steps sideways.




• Book use: He is going through a phase where he likes to play with books. Books have always been an integral part of our day, but right now Speck mostly squawks at me if I actually try to read to him. As soon as I open the book, he closes it. Then he grabs it and stares at the cover, and proceeds to flip it around to examine from all angles. He also likes to flip the pages. We had a few frustrating naptimes before I figured out what was up. Then I said "duh" and simply let him play with the books. Also we are mainly using board books right now, so he won't accidentally damage my treasured Dr. Seuss or Shel Silverstein. Special thanks to my mom for all the 50 cent board books she brings us from Mike's Merchandise!




• Signing: I have been signing to Speck since he was about 6 months old. He picked up the sign for milk and did it all the time for a month or so, but he has since stopped. I think this is mainly because he finally got serious about mobility. Several of my baby signing resources mention that infants often stop signing when they are working on a developmental milestone, as if all their concentration is pouring into learning to crawl or walk or whatever. I also think it's because I was kinda dense. (See above note about the books...perhaps there is a pattern?) First of all, it took me a week or so to figure out that the little grasping motion he kept making was the sign and not just random fist-clenching. Second, as soon as I realized he was signing, I suddenly realized I didn't want to um, give him milk every time he signed. I had carefully and gradually gotten him down to 3-4 nursings per day, with NO nursing at night. As much as I wanted to reinforce his signing milk and let him know I understood, I definitely did not want to nurse him every time he clenched his tiny fist. So now I am hoping that once he starts to walk for real, he will go back to signing. We got some Baby Signing Time DVDs (which he loves) and I am still signing to him all the time. The DVDs have been great for me too. I had mostly been relying on flashcards, and once I started watching live action I realized I had been doing some signs wrong. Also, seeing other kids doing it is really helpful, because I saw that most small kids don't sign *exactly* right. You have to be pretty attentive and sensitive to context to spot and interpret the signs.

No big surprise...

To those who know me, it will come as no shock that Speck likes mac n cheese. He also appears to be ok with broccoli, as long as it is also covered with cheese.

It's Scary to be a Kid by Dr. Parker

Found this on WebMD http://blogs.webmd.com/healthy-children/2006/03/your-childs-fears-banishing-ogre.html

It struck a chord with me cuz I am always struggling to imagine things from Speck's POV.

It's scary to be a kid because:

• You are little and everyone else is huge.
• You feel powerless to affect the world in the way you want (of course, parents may beg to differ).
• In your short life, you have been buffeted around by forces you can neither control nor understand.
• You are pretty clueless as to how and why things happen -- especially bad things. It's all kind of magical, and magic can always have a dark side.
• You haven't had enough experience to anticipate how things are going to turn out.
• You are egocentric, so you assume that everything that happens (especially bad things) will happen to you and because of you.
• You want to be independent, but lessening the close reliance on your parents, while thrilling, is also terrifying.

The Big 1.0!

It hardly seems possible, but Speck will be one year old in a week. We are not having a party. What's the point of going to all the trouble? He won't remember it anyway.

However, we are going to get cake and ice cream to stage a photo op. If you are interested in seeing the cake-dive, then you are welcome to come by at 12:30 on Saturday 5/3/08. In the event that lots of people (lots = more than 5) let me know they are coming by, we might be able to talk DH into firing up the grill for some burgers and dogs.

Just remember this is about as informal and unofficial as it gets, so don't show up with gifts. Unless you are a grandparent, in which case you will do what you want anyway so I won't waste my breath.

So far so good

Speck will be ONE YEAR OLD in a week. It boggles the mind.

Got the 3rd exam section behind me yesterday so today is a free day as far as I'm concerned. As with the previous 2, I feel cautiously optimistic about my performance. Tomorrow I will have to get back on the study train for the final test.

DH was at home with Speck yesterday and decided to feed him leftover spaghetti for lunch. Despite his expression, Speck actually seemed to like it just fine. We have to start introducing more table food to him; I think he is pretty tired of the bland babyish stuff. But I have a hard time figuring out stuff to cook that will feed all 3 of us. I have enough trouble figuring out what to cook just for me and DH.

Also, as with so many aspects of having a child, the question of what to make Speck for dinner suddenly makes it clear to me how my own choices need improvement. If a particular food is not up to the health and nutrition standards I have for my son, then I have to ask myself why the heck am I eating it myself?! If I don't want him to grow up eating Mickey D's, then umm, I gotta cut back on the double cheeseburgers.

It's kinda like the evening I was lying in bed, feeling a little mopey and insecure and inadequate, as is my habit, and I thought to myself that I want Speck to be a better person than I am. More confident, more compassionate, more whatever. And it hit me that if I want HIM to be "better" than I am, then I have to be better. I can't hope to not teach him my bad habits if I persist in them. To do the right thing you have to be the right person.

Alarm Clock

For some reason Speck's wake time keeps creeping earlier. For a long time it was 7 am, and often I actually had to wake him up at that time to keep him on track for his nap.

But for a month or so now he's been creeping back and back: 6:30, 6:15, 5:30...and this morning he started meeping at 4:50?! Actually what woke me was a thud. I jumped up fearing he had crawled out of the crib, or maybe the crib rail had fallen down due to being sloppily raised last night. The truth was less dramatic and more amusing. I found him at one end of the crib, hand through the rails trying to reach the Diaper Genie he had knocked over. DH of course slept blissfully through all of this.

I've tried several things to get him to sleep till at least 6, with mixed success. I think maybe he is getting so close to walking that it is making it hard for him to re-settle when he's had mostly a full night of rest. I have read several places that babies often have sleep disruptions right before a big developmental milestone. Anyway, my procedure today has been to tell him it's sleepy time and leave him in the crib. He's not even crying, only doing low-level fussing. I'm checking in every so often. If I find him sitting up at the next check I guess I will get him up, change the diaper, and rock him a little.

He's asleep! W00t!

BTW, this picture is from a couple weeks ago. Us grownups went to check on Speck before going to bed one night and discovered him sound asleep on his knees. Pretty frickin cute. Note Mr. Floppy Ears in the corner.

Study time

I am supposed to be studying for the next big test tomorrow, but I'm having trouble using the old noodle today. My attention keeps wandering.

DH arranged to be off work and has taken The Boy on an outing. To buy guitar strings. I'm sure DH is having great fun maneuvering the stroller around the crowded music store. I offered him the sling but he declined; I can't imagine why.

I guess for now I am going to give up trying to go back and fill in the blanks with posts from Speck's first year and instead just try to keep it up going forward. Then when I have time on my hands (translation: never) I might get caught up.

Speck is so busy these days...his little knees and feet are practically callused from crawling around so much. At least he hasn't fallen recently. There for a while I thought we were going to have to get him a padded helmet because he kept pulling up on everything and finding every hard surface on his way back down.

I suppose I have wasted enough time here and should try again to apply nose to grindstone and get some studying done before DH and DS get back.

Catching up

Now that my son is almost a year old, I am wishing I had kept up this blog I set up soon after he was born. Since I didn't, I am going to try and go back and reconstruct some of those memories using emails between his father and me. I am guessing few if any people besides me and DH will read this (and DH only if I pester him) so I will not apologize about some of these posts being strange or cryptic.

Here Speck is chewing on one of his beloved toys, christened Creepy Bunny by me and DH. If you push its tummy it plays "Jesus Loves Me" as sung by children whose voices sound like they belong on the soundtrack to a horror movie. I bet you know exactly the kind of sound I'm talking about. But he loves it. He grins when he finds it in the toybox.

You Know You're a Mom If...

You buy goldfish crackers and cheerios by the truckload.

You have containers of baby wipes in every room and a burp cloth on every piece of furniture.

You no longer think that terror and joy are incompatible emotions, as they have become your way of life.

You judge the quality of a restaurant by how they act when your kid makes a mess on the floor.

Upon noticing a stain or wet patch on your clothing you no longer ask “hmm, what is that?”

You suddenly realize that your husband is no longer the main person whose inner life is frustratingly mysterious to you.

Your “me time” usually consists of daddy watching the baby for 30 minutes while you clean up the kitchen.

You realize wanting a baby is the dumbest, craziest, most idiotic wonderful idea you ever had.

You observe that there is apparently some other attractive force in the universe besides gravity, and it emanates from your child’s mouth.

You realize that if you are not careful, you and your husband may become one of those freaky old couples who call each other mommy and daddy.