Category: Under 1 Year Old Page 4 of 8

Snuggling in My Pirate Ship

On March 15, 2021

In 04 Months Old, Dora's Stories, Under 1 Year Old

The Parents moved me from the playpen to the floor mat and now in the swing.

I whimper as I kick my chubby four-month-old feet.

Oh good, Mommy finally acknowledges my protests. She walks towards me, pauses in front of the swing, touches the knob.

And walks away!?

“Wahhhh!!” Don’t leave! I want to sleep on your chest for another three hours! The swing suddenly got a boost of energy, swaying faster back and forth.

“You’re a hypocrite. You never let me swing Izzy at the highest setting when she was a baby,” accuses Daddy in the background.

Like sitting in a pirate ship at an amusement park lifted to the highest peak, I can see all the toys scattered on the floor beneath me.

Then swoosh, I am descending so fast, my vision becomes a blur, and now I can see every lightbulb in the ceiling. One. Two. Th…. Ah! Before I can finish counting, I am swinging in the other direction.

Is this supposed to be soothing?

I clasp my hands tightly together, my chubby fingers intertwine, holding on to each for dear life. My lips seal tightly to hold down the spit-up. I scream quietly on the inside. Every few seconds, I got a glimpse of the fan’s spidery arms, ready to descend from the ceiling to snatch me up. Luckily, Mommy buckled me in.

Oh, the adrenaline. The rush. Oddly, this is making me sleepy.

The angular momentum creates a slight breeze kissing my bald head. A yawn escapes my mouth. I doze off to the music blasting in the background and Lady Godiva running down the hall.

The Mouthwash Ritual

By Izzy Tornado

On March 15, 2021

In 08 Months Old, Izzy's Stories, Under 1 Year Old

The mouthwash ritual is a sacred ceremony that Mommy and I perform every night since I turned 8-months-old when I procured my fourth tooth.

After flossing (my second favorite activity), I would sit on the bathroom counter with my feet in the sink, holding my big dinosaur cup over the faucet while Mommy turns on the water. It’s always a bonus whenever I can quickly move the cup away just so the water splashes on my feet. Delightful. Of course, Mommy immediately turns off the water and teases about my wet pants.

It’s a little game we play.

Mommy then opens a green bottle, letting the refreshing smell of mint swirl into my nostril. Ah, The Precious Mouthwash. Together, we would pour a very teeny, tiny amount of Mouthwash into her small cup.

Then we look into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, as if speaking in a silent language and say in harmony, “Cheers!” raising our cups for good luck.

“Spit it out, don’t drink it,” Mommy warns me every time.

As usual, I nod. But proceed to drink the water as fast as I could before she tears the cup away from me.

“Plat,” I would fake a spit and give her a big grin.

Mommy, on the other hand, takes a swig from her cup. For a few moments, the Mouthwash stays in her mouth, not going down nor coming out.

My hands vibrate as I place them on her cheeks, feeling every swish.

As if stuck in a wormhole, it bounces around, forming larger and larger bubbles until it overflows. “Haha!” I laughed as I popped the bubbles in her mouth. My favorite part!

Finally, Mommy decides to spit out the green, foamy liquid. I watch it sizzle down the drain—what a waste.

Mouthwash, like toothpaste, is meant to be swallowed.

Flossing is More Fun

By Izzy Tornado

On March 15, 2021

In 10 Months Old, Izzy's Stories, Under 1 Year Old

Ever since 10-months-old, the Parents misused my uncontrollable laughter when being tickled to brush my teeth. With my mouth wide open, Mommy would sneak in and scrub my mere six teeth so hard that she might as well sand wood.

Why do they make such a big deal about brushing teeth anyway? I’m a baby! Can’t we afford to buy a new set of teeth?

So let them rot. Let me floss instead!

Finally, we made a deal – I will brush my teeth if I can floss afterwards.

I can still remember my first successful flossing attempt.

As usual, I ran to the brushing station and pointed at the three glistening toothbrushes on the counter, shouting, “Mama, Dada, Me!” As if they have woken from a spell, they floated towards my command with Mommy’s help.

After gnawing at my toothbrush, I carefully picked up a floss pick and watched Mommy closely as she puts one in her mouth, all the while looking at the mirror.

I took a deep breath and attempted to do the same.

Nope, the floss is lying flat; it needed to be upright.

Nope, I missed my mouth entirely.

Argh! Why did she make it look so easy?

Unlike the previous nights, I refused to give up.

Nope, too far to the right. What is wrong with my clumsy fingers? How is it that when I moved my hand one way but the hand in the mirror moves the other, aren’t they supposed to like… mirror?

Pluck.

The sound vibrated in my mouth. Ahha! The floss pick string is in between my teeth. It may have taken a total of 248 attempts during my short lifetime, but I finally got it!

“Good job, Izzy. Look, Daddy. She’s flossing!”

I proudly smiled at the latest accessory in my mouth, the green pick dangling over my lips as if, it too, is having a victory dance.

The Side Kicking Baby

By Hurricane Dora

On February 23, 2021

In 02 Months Old, Dora's Stories, Under 1 Year Old

Kick kick kick.
Wake up! Wake up! It is 2 AM. I’m hungry!
The lifeless body didn’t budge.

Kick kick kick.
Swinging my arms around, I tried to pivot on my back towards Mommy lying next to me.
At two-months-old, moving for any distance is a challenge.

Kick kick kick.
Oh, I just kicked something.
Most likely the hip.

Kick kick kick.
As if jumping on a sideways trampoline, I pushed hard on the rib cage.
She stirred.

A second later, fingers started feeling around my face.
No dummy! I want milk, not a face massage.
“Wahhh!”

The fingers found the pacifier buried in my neck and shoved it back in my mouth.
I closed my eyes.
Satisfied.

Suck suck suck.
When is the milk coming?

Suck suck suck.
You tricked me!

Kick kick kick.
Time to feed me.
The pacifier fell out of my mouth as I started wailing.

“Okay, okay, I’m up,” still half-asleep, Mommy got off the bed and turned on the light.

I only have to kick her 15 times tonight before getting a response. Perhaps Daddy will do better when he takes the next shift.

Poopie Series: A Jet-O-Poop

By Hurricane Dora

On February 23, 2021

In 02 Months Old, Dora's Stories, Under 1 Year Old

Calm down, Parents! It has only been five days since my last bowel movement. I can handle this. I let out a grunt as they pump my legs and massage my belly on the changing table.

“Looks like we don’t have a choice; her stomach is bulging. Let’s get the suppository ready,” said Daddy grimly.

“But she’s only 2-months-old,” Mommy murmured.

Wait, what’s a s..s…s.. sup…tory?

Mommy held a small, white container and a few towels in her hand while Daddy started taking off my diaper. She handed a clear, short rod to Daddy. Okay… this does not seem like my usual diaper change. Can anyone tell me what’s going on?!

They both took a deep breath. I, on the other hand, held my breath as something tickled my butt.

I exhaled as it glides in my butthole.

Ah! It is going to eat me from the inside out! I squeeze my butt muscles, plop, it slid out. I have to get away before it comes back. As if running a marathon, I quickly kicked my legs up and down. Unfortunately, it is a futile effort as I am still on my back.

Mommy grabbed my legs. “You’re okay, Dora,” she gently kissed my forehead as I felt that thing crawling in my butthole again. I squeezed my butt muscles. This time, it stays put… inside. I glanced at Mommy, then at Daddy.

Their concerned expressions matched mine; we were all waiting for someone to make the next move.

After a few moments, I felt a rumble. Then, as if the floodgates opened down there, I unconsciously contracted my abs and pushed. Hard.

“I need wipes, quick!” exclaimed Daddy as I felt the pressure slowly dissipating in my stomach. While the Parents frantically wipe my bottom, I pushed again. It was so satisfying, like squeezing toothpaste.

Let’s make this more fun.

I tilt my head slightly to get a glimpse over my knees, and as if aiming with a water gun, I let out a final push.

Splat. “It’s on the wipes dispenser!” both Parents yelped this time. Aww, man, that is only a foot away. I was hoping it would hit the crib across the room. As Daddy bundled me up to get ready for a nice, warm bath, I saw the traces left behind on the changing table, clothes, and lotion bottle. My first masterpiece.

Update one month later:

I am proud to announce that I had gone up to eight days straight without having a bowel movement AND the doctor said it is normal. Finally, after five more unsuccessful opportunities to aim at the crib, the parents dropped the suppository method and gave me a few drops of prune juice every day instead. It was pretty effective, just not as fun.