The peach colored satin pillowcase signals to 9 month old Mademoiselle that it’s time to go to sleep, and watching her crawl quickly to the marked spot on the bed is absolutely adorable. This seemingly small event caused me to search for the cute travel blanket and pillow set I saw on Saks’ website some time ago. While flipping through the pages, I discovered the following cute items on sale:
It is amazing to watch the intellectual prowess of Mademoiselle unfold. At 8 months, she already loves to emulate her mother often pretending to read by pointing at the pictures and words as she rambles in baby gibberish. Mademoiselle also loves to talk on the phone, which indicates that I’m on the phone way too much. She also tries desperately to put on my head scarf and is already trying to dress herself, sometimes in my clothes.
Like a good student of life, Mademoiselle is very observant, studying our every move with a stern look on her face. In fact, strangers constantly remark about how serious she is, but what they don’t seem to understand is that she is in the process of learning. Mademoiselle actions only proves what we already know about kids at this age; they’re like sponges, absorbing everything they see. From birth and beyond, it is within my power as her mother to cultivate not only a positive self image, but also a love of learning and music.
I want my daughter to excel far beyond what I’ve accomplished. I want Mademoiselle to be an urbane girl, meaning to be polished: showing a high degree of refinement and the assurance that comes from a wide social experience. I want to expose her to things that will develop an exquisite taste in art and a high value in education and I want her to be a world traveler. In other words, it is my strong desire to build her social capital that will enable her to function effectively in society within all social classes. I also want Mademoiselle to be clear that no never means no. I want to empower her to go after what she wants in the face of rejection. And lastly, I want to nurture a sense of great style, an eye for high, sophisticated fashion that stems from her worldly experiences. My hope is to lay a strong enough foundation that will enable Mademoiselle to develop a style of her own.
I waited for several months before I allowed either of my boys to be vaccinated. Not only was I concerned about their well-being and all the possible side effects, but I didn’t really see the point in getting them vaccinated early since they were so young and their immune system so delicate. Besides, who comes down with two or three diseases at once? And, why would I allow a doctor to inject my child with two or more different viruses. I just was not willing to take that chance with my child’s life. Had I known a lot about holistic medicine, I would have opted out of having them vaccinated, though I could have taken the necessary steps to have them legally exempt.
I bring this subject up because Mademoiselle is eight months now and yesterday she was given her third vaccine. I love my children’s new pediatrician. She listens and is willing to work with me as a team to ensure that my kids remain healthy. Every two months, we go over the list of vaccines and determine which one is needed the most at that particular time. I will not give Mademoiselle more than once shot because if she has a reaction I want to know which vaccine was the culprit.
I mentioned that my children had a new doctor. Their old doctor got on my last nerves. I was tired of him thinking he knew more than I did because he was the doctor. I was sick of the tension between us that was created by me being right when he said I was wrong. Here’s a good example: I love nuts. I eat them on and in everything. Everyday I would prepare a salad with almonds for lunch, and sometimes I would have some eggs for breakfast. After eating the salad, I noticed that Mademoiselle would break out in a lot of tiny little bumps on her cheeks, neck, and stomach. I called the doctor and told him I thought she was allergic to nuts. This idiot tells me, “How do you know? I think you’re just wrapping her too tight. She has a heat rash.” First of all, this is my third child and I have a whole lot of common sense. I know how to put two and two together.
When I got off the phone with him, I quickly scheduled a same day appointment with another doctor in his office who determined that the outbreak was due to an allergic reaction. I left a message on his voice-mail with my findings and a request to have my baby see an allergist (thanks to the advice of my friend, Nanora). Long story short, the allergist found that Mademoiselle is allergic to nuts, eggs, and dairy products, meaning I can’t have any of those things until I’m done nursing. Once the old doctor received the report we were at odds from that point on.
The straw that broke the camel’s back came when he and another doctor in his office told me I had to have my two month old baby immunized or else I had to seek medical care some where else. “It is our office’s policy,” he said. Yeah, since when? It wasn’t a problem thirteen years ago. I told him if something was to happen to my child there is nothing you will be able to say to me besides a lousy I’m sorry. I am responsible for my child’s well-being. I gave birth to this child and I’m not only financially obligated to care for her, but I’m also responsible for her emotional and physical well-being. It’s my child and my choice! As a result, she had her first vaccine at four months old. She did not have a reaction to any so far; not even a fever.
I’m so thankful that another doctor in the same office understands my concerns and is willing to do whatever it takes to see that my daughter and sons have a healthy future ahead.
Yesterday, Mademoiselle turned eight months. Wow, time passes by so fast. It seems like a day or two ago she was this helpless bundle of joy. Now, she is one busy little bee and loves to eat paper as if it was her last meal; can’t understand that one. It’s so adorable to see her cry and crawl after her brothers when they attempt to leave the room. The only one that doesn’t seem to be getting any love from Mademoiselle is daddy; poor thing. Nonetheless, he loves her with all his heart and melts whenever he sees her dressed up in cute little things. I must admit, I do too. That’s why she needs…
these cute Trumpette Shaggie Infant Slippers and…
these tees to put everyone on notice that another fashionista is in the making…
yeah, yeah I know she’s too little but the flip-flops are so fabulous…
and of course this ensemble is perfect for a little fun in the sun.
I admire people who can turn their creativity into profit. It makes me wonder if I’m living up to my full potential and what exactly my purpose is. For people like designer Claude who is capable of taking something old such as vintage concert tees and old hankies to create an adorable dress like this is simple amazing to me. How artistic is that? You can find his one-of-a-kind girls dresses at Barney’s, 212-826-8900.
I want to apologize for the lack of post so far this week, but I have some personal things I need the take care of. I’ll have a regular post ready to go for tomorrow. In the meantime, feel free to catch up by reading some of my older posts.
I wish I was the genius who originated this idea, but I copied from my friends Nicole and Nanora who both had pictures of their daughters in a “bad girl box”.
Growing up, I was free as a bird. It was not uncommon to find me hanging from a tree, sitting in the grass, or walking down the street barefooted. I even looked through our kitchen trash can to find things I could magically turn into a work of art.
When my mother was pregnant with my sister she had a craving for dirt, so there I was in the middle of the night digging up dirt for my mother without giving what I was doing a second thought. I touched door handles, wore shorts to the movies, ate at buffets, and wore shoes in the house. The truth is, I did a lot of things unconsciously that definitely increased my chances of coming in contact with some type of germ.
But something strange happened after I got married (yay, 15 years of marital bliss) and had my first child thirteen years ago. The more I read or listened to the news about some kind of germ, the more I started over analyzing my environment. I stopped touching public doors and elevator buttons without something to protect my skin; I did and continue to spend several minutes in a public restroom lining the toilets with at least six toilet seat covers and several strips of toilet paper before sitting my little one on it. I even went as far as spraying it down with Lysol before proceeding with my toilet wrapping ritual.
It eventually spilled over to my son, who at two would not use a public restroom if it was dirty. He would literally kick and scream if I attempted to walk him through the doors. He would hold it until we found a clean restroom. Would you believe this kid never wet his pants? The hubby says, “You’re making our kids crazy.” What does he know!?
I cringe whenever someone tells me they’re coming to visit my home because the only thing I can think about is them sitting my sofa. You see in my mind I’m thinking this person probably went to the movies, sat down in those fecal matter filled seats before getting in their car, and you know I’m thinking those germs are going to be transported to my sofa then tracked all through the house. And let’s not talk about their belonging sitting on my floor.
In fact, no one in my household sits on the sofa with their outside clothes on. As soon as we come home from an outing, we (the hubby, Monsieur D, Monsieur G, and even Mademoiselle) immediately change into our inside clothes. Before company arrives I usually drape blankets and sheets over the sofa. We don’t wear shoes in the house, and everyone is to quickly wash their hands. I rarely go to the movies. I’d rather wait for the video, but if I do go you can rest assure I’m protecting my body. I can’t even sit comfortably for fear I will touch the seat. By the end of the movie, my back is killing me.
This is nothing compared to how I used to be. At one time, I could not shake another persons had without silently freaking out. Though I’ve made some drastic changes, I’m still a germaphob and will continue doing the above (plus some other things) along with spraying the shopping cart with Lysol before using some additional protection for Mademoiselle like this adorable shopping cart cover by Snazzy Baby.
And of course, I and my cousin Lorena, who is a germaphob to the tenth power (yes, she’s worse than I am), can’t put our purses on the floor in a restaurant. Thanks to Luxe Link for creating a chic device to keep your purse off the icky ground, and kick your fabulocity factor up a notch!