Buzzzzzzz Fiona’s hand grabs at her ear, through her striped Hanna Anderson hat she tries to pull off her hearing aid. “pat pat pat” I say which is what I’ve learned from Early Start to teach babies to keep their hearing aids in. She’s whining and tired, it’s almost morning nap time. “Just one more bite, you’re almost done with your cereal.” I take off her hat, take out her hearing aids. As I carry her to the play n pack she’s whiny and I say “SHHHH” but she can’t hear me. I put on the sleep sheep but she can’t hear it. I give her Tiger and she starts sucking her thumb and cuddling tiger. A few minutes go by and Fiona is whining and whining, I go back in the room where the babies are napping and she’s dropped her Tiger out of the play and pack. I feel myself getting really stressed and annoyed. Take a deep breath. Give back her Tiger, Jacks doing fine, “take your nap babies” I say and shut the door. Yesterday at the non-party birthday party I was babbling back to Willa, My Friend Bettina’s eight month old baby girl. I had a brief moment where I had to question if she could hear me or not. Of course she can, she has perfect hearing, but I’m so used to thinking about Fiona’s hearing loss and if she has her hearing aids in or not it seeps into my interactions with hearing babies. I feel so much pressure to make sure I’m using the hearing aids as much as possible so Fiona will learn language. I feel guilty when I don’t put them on, when I just let Fiona “BE.” I let her head breath. I read as many books as I can when Fiona and Jack are in their high chairs, I always have her hearing aids on in her high chair. She still misses so much. There is so much time she is not wearing her hearing aids. I want to believe that’s OK. I feel like she’s still learning so much, she’s still learning about communication, she’s not learning as many “words” as Jack, but in time she will catch up.
Tag: parenting
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I see my reflection in the window with the glow of the computer screen on my face. It’s still dark outside. The house is asleep. The kettle is humming. I go over to turn it off before it beeps and graze my little toe on the corner of the high chair, the plastic pinches and scrapes, “Damn!” Then just like clockwork as I’m buttering my toast I hear the babies on the monitor starting to babble. My coffee is nice and hot, my toast warm with peanut butter and banana. I’ll let them babble until I finish my breakfast. Today Jack and Fiona turn one year old. Super yard Baby fences section off the house like a spaceship. Toys scatter the floors, some of which feel more like torture devices than playthings, the sharp plastic corners dig into the bottom of my feet and make me cuss. The frustration of these things does sneak up on me. Then I start to get mad at things I normally could deal with, like lately I’m trying to teach the babies how to treat books. They put them in their mouths and have already destroyed “Quack Quack with Jemima Puddle Duck”. So I start to use the word “no” which has been put away until now. Fiona puts “Polar Bear Polar Bear” in her mouth, I say “no Fiona not in your mouth” and gently pull the book down. Her lip curls, her eyes squint and she starts to cry the saddest little cry I ever did see. We repeat this sequence about 5 times, now I think maybe it’s too early to teach this lesson! Today since it is their birthday I took both babies out of their cribs at the same time, took off their sleep sacks and pajamas, and was able to change their diapers on the floor of the nursery because it was just pee. I dressed them in their birthday outfits, Fiona is a Lady Bug, and Jack is a Bumble Bee. Then I scooped up both babies and carried 45 pounds of baby up the stairs to the kitchen. I see my black dog Billy, part Border collie but looks like a wolf, trotting down the street. I don’t know how she got out last night, I hope she didn’t kill anyone’s cat. It’s time to make the cake now. How will I take care of the babies, make the birthday cake and clean the kitchen? Take a deep breath, make another cup of coffee.