Pages

Monday, October 25, 2010

It's been a couple of weeks...

It's been a couple of weeks since starting my experiment at cutting out processed food. For the most part, I've been having a lot of success.

The difference in cost seems to be pretty small. I might have to attribute that to my proximity to the Central Valley of California, though. Fresh asparagus for $1.47/lb? Sign me up! As of right now I'm eating a meal of pasta with, broccoli, asparagus, zucchini, squash, mushrooms, and a few chives, all drizzled with balsamic vinegar and with a side of home-made wheat bread. Mmmmmm tasty. Actual prep time (not including the bread) was about 30 minutes, and for 3-4 adult size servings I spent somewhere in the neighborhood of $7.

And the bread? Easy-peasy in the bread maker. It takes approximately 1 minute of prep time and then I push a button.

So what (if any) effects have I seen so far? Well, I'm down 3.5 lbs. I'm sure it's all water weight, which makes a ton of sense for having cut out as much processed stuff as possible. I don't even want to know how much salt is suddenly gone from my diet just by switching from Lean Cuisine lunches to fresh veggies and dinner leftovers. But my skin is also clearer. I have a tiny bit more energy. As in, I have enough energy to cook rather than simply enough to push a button on the microwave.

So far so good. Hopefully we can keep this up long enough for it to become habit.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

A New Direction

OK, so I've gotten off of the blogging train. Work and life have been so danged busy that I feel like I just haven't had it in me to compose, edit, and publish posts.

No more!

I'm going in a new direction here.

Last month my mom was diagnosed with aggressive breast cancer. Yesterday she noticed symptoms that seemed to indicate a minor stroke. We're still not sure what happened, but at this point a stroke has been ruled out, and instead she seems to have had some nerve damage unrelated to the cancer. That's the good news. The bad news is that her cancer has been upgraded to stage IIIC, possibly stage IV.

The women in my mom's family don't have a history of breast cancer, which makes me wonder if it's primarily environmental for her (as opposed to, say, really bad luck). See, I've been doing some reading (and watching some documentaries) about how food production and farming have changed in the past 50 or so years. Long story short, fast food, processed food, portion servings, additives, etc. have changed the way food looks, tastes, nourishes, and is farmed. And some of the added chemicals are either known carcinogens or have unknown effects on the body (or there is conflicting evidence that it's either Really Bad For You or Totally Fine depending on who provides funding for the studies).

Since the Little Man has begun eating solid food, my husband and I have had discussions about what we should feed him as he gets older. Neither of us want to go gung-ho never-visit-McDonalds-ever-in-a-million-years, but we don't want to hit up the drive-thru very often, either. My mom's recent health problems really drove that point home. She told me once, after she lost 170 pounds after bariatric surgery, that she used to visit fast-food restaurants at least twice per day, every day for years - close to a decade. From what she told me I estimate that she spent roughly $100 per week, every week, on fast food.

The stuff with huge amounts of this processed, chemically soaked food-stuff.

Apart from the obesity, it makes me wonder how much of this fruit of chemical-food engineering contributed to her cancer and nerve damage. How much of this stuff will I be willing to feed my child? Heck, how much of it do I, personally, want to consume? And it's not just the fast food. It's the TV dinners, the boxes of rice with powdered spices, the ramen, the hot-dogs, the lunch meat, the "easy meals." How much of that am I willing to feed my family?

So after conversations with my husband we have decided to try to make a change as a family - before the kid has any inkling that Mom and Dad used to do things differently. First, we plan on going through our current pantry because, well, we can't afford to throw out all the processed stuff and start over. Then we take a good hard look at those food labels.

What we're going to try is to buy primarily things with 5 or fewer "ingredients" on the label - or at least no ingredients that I need to use my community-college chemistry knowledge to decipher. This will mean a lot more cooking. It will probably mean that I'll have to start making my own beef and chicken stocks. I already went out an invested in a bread machine ($15 at the local thrift store!) because it's just cheaper to make our own bread than buy the $4 fancy loaf at the grocery store.

I hear tell that it's actually cheaper to do it this way. Pre-packaged food is kind of expensive, right? I hear that we'll start feeling better physically, emotionally, and we'll have more energy. On that last point - gawd I hope so, because I work full-time with a 30 minute commute before and after work. Many times I come home and the last thing I want to do is work in the kitchen. We'll need to plan our meals better so that we don't end up with waste.

And once in a while we will go through the drive-thru. But hopefully it will become one of those special treats rather than an "Aw crap I don't feel like cooking tonight anyway" things.

It's an experiment, and my husband and I acknowledged in our conversation that many times we come up with these plans and then abandon them in short order. But I'm hoping that this wake-up call will be enough of a push to make eating healthy a priority for us.

So what I'm going to try to do here is document our progress. If I can come up with a quick and easy (and cheap) healthy meal for dinner I'll post the recipe. I'll post tips on how to cut costs. I'll let you know if those miracle side-effects actually materialize. And hopefully I'll be at this long enough to post updates to what a toddler will and won't tolerate as healthy food. Oh, and if I find a good brand of something or other that makes my life a billion times easier without breaking the bank I'll be sure to post that, too.

Sooooo for this week? It's the beginning...

Monday, August 16, 2010

The Little Man, Month 5

Pretty soon I'm going to have to give in and call you what Daddy calls you: the Big Man. You are growing so fast it blows me away.

  • First and foremost - you are now a mobile baby. You can scoot yourself army-crawl style to get to whatever you need. I don't know if this makes you more content or more frustrated, though, since you haven't quite mastered putting things in your mouth exactly the way you seem to want them.
  • You can sit up tall all by yourself!
  • Every once in a while I hear you trying out new sounds - bvv and muh seem to be the favorites these days.
  • You also figured out how to blow bubbles. This makes for some epic drool bombs.
  • You finally like swimming! It's so fun to see you splashing and smiling and TALKING in the pool! Plus, you're quite the charmer with your extra grandmas and the 8 year old girl who meet us at the pool most nights.
  • No matter how bad a mood you are in, I know that I can sing the first song from Jesus Christ Superstar to you and your face will brighten up big time. So cute!
  • We have new diaper covers coming for you. You know, the ones that the company said you wouldn't need until you're 9 months old. Big boy!
  • Baby bald spot? What baby bald spot? Yours has totally grown back in and you seem to be dirty blond. How the heck did that happen?! Daddy and I both have really dark brown hair. I think Dad's hair might even be black.
  • You are so beautiful. One of the other grandmas at the pool this month said that you are the cutest baby she has seen in years. I believe it! But don't let that go to your head ;-)
  • Also, you're learning manipulative skills. By that I mean that you know that if Daddy is sitting next to you in the car that you can scream and we'll stop and get you out for a bit. If he's not there you sleep peacefully until you really do need something. Smart boy...and I guess that means that from now on Dad sits up front with me on long trips.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Bear with me...

Work started 2 weeks ago and it's been craaaaaaaazy busy between the start of a new school year and at-home responsibilities. Posting will resume when I find my zen :)

Thursday, July 15, 2010

The Little Man, Month 4

Wow, I can't believe it's already been 4 months.

Little Man, you are just an explosion of new skills and love.

  • Holy moley you can keep yourself upright. You're still mostly doing what your dad and I lovingly call the "Sitting Gorilla Pose," but you're sitting straighter every day.
  • You're learning new things all the time: like if you kick the giraffe on your play gym the music will start playing and the butterflies move.
  • You also have learned that if you kick The Mama in the middle of the night she will wake up and feed you. Along the same lines, it's hilarious to watch you playing with your dad and he pretends to fall asleep with you sitting on his tummy. You lean forward, get an anticipatory smile on your face and coo quietly at him. And then you laugh and laugh when he "startles" awake.
  • You are responding to your name(s)! I know you have a lot of nicknames, but you seem to recognize most of them and you'll turn your head to say "what's up?"
  • Tummies are yummy, and you love it when I nom on yours.
  • You're not liking going to sleep these days, though. I think you're just so excited by all of the new things you're noticing that you don't want it to stop. And you're noticing e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. these days: the design on your play gym, my coffee cup, the pictures in books, your toys, my computer...and everything has to go into your mouth.
  • You can push yourself all the way up on your arms - elbows straight, in sort of the "Cobra Pose." Sometimes you fiddle with your legs and I swear you are thisclose to getting on your hands and knees.
  • Your dad showed me a new trick you have. He puts your pacifier in his mouth, you reach up, grab it, turn it, and then put it in your own mouth. It's rare that you get the right part in your mouth on the first try...but I'm still impressed!
  • Surefire way to get you to smile (if not laugh) no matter what mood you are in? Pick you up to see the baby in the mirror. I'm not sure whether what you were doing the other day was giving him kisses or trying to chew on him, but it was really funny to watch you mouthing the mirror.
  • I love how you sing along with us now, or with the music. Lately we've been putting you down for naps listening to Jesus Christ Superstar, and it's really fun to hear you coo along. Or when your dad and I are singing a song to you and you join in. Ah, it warms my heart.
  • And you are definitely a musical baby. You get a kick out of playing notes on the piano (and then trying to chew the piano) or plucking strings on dad's guitar or my ukulele.
  • Yesterday at the pool one of the other swimmers commented on how "serious" you are. And it's true. You don't just give away your joy and love to anyone at any time. You are an appraising baby - everything and everyone needs to pass inspection. Never mind that so far EVERYone has passed inspection with you - but you need to get to know someone first before you'll be the smiley, playful baby that you are with us. I love you, kiddo.

Friday, July 9, 2010

Long post coming up...

Anyone reading my blog at this point (Hi FIFs!) is a parent (or about to become a parent), so you know how life can be even during vacation times.

Tonight I had a momentary scare. This was one of those times where I grabbed my child, held him to my chest (annoying him greatly) and did the best check-over I could do while clasping him to me, listening to his breathing and smothering him in kisses.

He coughed. He's been coughing, but also drooling a LOT (probably teething, based on other things he's been doing). So initially the cough didn't give me pause. It was the whoooooooooooop that came at the end of his short cough sequence. I freaked out.

I live in California, where there is a whooping cough epidemic ongoing. Now, we don't get out much and the Little Man stays with us all day every day so there isn't much chance of him being exposed to anyone with - or carrying - whooping cough. But that sound terrified me.

Then I remembered - we just had visitors. Some of the Little Man's siblings came to see us, and their mother is fearful of vaccines. My husband tells me that he doesn't know about the youngest (not his biological child), but that for the two oldest the only vaccines they had were the bare minimums required for attendance at the Waldorf School. Needless to say, that did not ease my mind tonight.

There have been no more coughing episodes tonight, but I plan on watching him this weekend, taking his temperature frequently, and keeping the pediatrician's phone number handy in case he whoops again.

But then I got to thinking about the whole anti-vaccination movement. And I got angry. And I want to blog about it, but I don't want to put a bunch of stuff out there without any statistics to back me up. Vaccines are a very touchy subject (I know I'm touchy about it) and I don't want to come off as a blowhard. So I need to do some research on a lot of the points I want to make. And I have a LOT of points I want to make. Here's where you guys being new parents will understand...this will take some time. Life with an infant is busy, and definitely not conducive to dedicated study time. It's possible, it's just time consuming.

So there ya go. I'll be doing some research on this stuff and I'll be back with a post on my feelings on this subject. Seeya in a bit!

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Song Lyrics

The Little Man loves music. It's a surefire way to put him to sleep, to get him in a better mood, and to make life in general better for everyone involved. It doesn't matter where he gets his music from, either. He can just as easily listen to music from the iPod speakers as he can when my husband or I play guitar and/or sing to him.

So the other day it was just the Little Man and me home for the afternoon. I laid him down on a blanket on the floor and put on some music. I started singing along with the music, looking into the little dude's eyes and getting lots of big smiles and coos from him. Then I heard myself sing this:

Voices whine
Skyscrapers are scraping together
Your voice is smoking
Last cigarettes are all you can get
Turning your orbit around

Ack! My kid isn't smoking cigarettes! I waited for the next song on the mix to come on. It was even worse.

I dreamed about killing you again last night
And it felt alright to me
Dying on the banks of Embarcadero skies
I sat and watched you bleed
Buried you alive in a fireworks display
Raining down on me
Your cold, hot blood ran away from me
To the sea

Both Jesus, Etc. and Via Chicago are songs that I love (and, by the way, if you get the opportunity to see Wilco perform live...do it. They are awesome and fun and possibly my favorite band ever). But jeez. Those lyrics came on and Motherbrain took over. I started thinking about all the songs that I probably shouldn't play with him around, at least while he's pretty little. I mean, you never know what they're going to decide to perform in public, right?

My husband has a story about grocery shopping with the two oldest kids when they were little - like 3 and 4 years old - and getting death stares from middle-aged ladies in the produce department. It wasn't until then that he realized that his son and daughter were singing Someday Mother will die and we'll get the money (From "I Palindrome I" by They Might Be Giants) over and over again. Yeah, I don't want to be in that situation. I realize it's not a huge deal what other people think, but if I'm going to be watching my language around the kid then certainly the music I listen to shouldn't be filled with cussing, violence, or drug and alcohol references.

I need to listen to that stuff now while he's too young to repeat it and then give it up for a while.

So for the rest of the afternoon we listened to Sublime.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Waltzing's For Dreamers

Dear Little Man,

This afternoon I decided to share with you some music that your dad gave me before we started dating. It's a special mix, and you're a special guy, so I thought it would be a nice relief from your teething woes.

At first you were listening to me attempt to sing along to Elias, by Dispatch (in Shona!) and that was intriguing enough for a while, but soon you became tired and fussy. I stood us up and walked us around the living room through the next song, but I had a new idea after that one was through.

Waltzing's For Dreamers, by Richard Thompson came on so I decided that we would waltz. I have no clue how to even begin waltzing, other than there are twirls and it's in 3/4 time. I hummed along and soon you were on your way out. I decided to keep dancing with you through Madame George, by Van Morrison. It was during this song that it struck me - you won't be my little man for always.

Someday you're going to grow up and I won't get to decide to dance with you spur-of-the-moment. Someday I won't be the person you reach for when you're sad, or want holding, or you want to be soothed to sleep. In fact someday, when you're a Big Man, I might dance with you for the last time if or when you get married. The thought of you being so big made me choke up.

So even though you wake me up at 4:30 almost every morning, you cry and cry when your teeth are bothering you, you puke on me, you poop on me, you require such constant care and attention...don't become that Big Man too quickly. Let me keep soothing you back to sleep, helping you with your teethers, cleaning up your gacks, and wiping your little bottom for a while. Let me hold you close and let you drift off to sleep in waltz time, just loving on each other, simple as that for a while longer.

Love,
Mama

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Kick the Giraffe!

This afternoon I was playing with the Little Man in his play gym. It was just him and me, so the house was pretty quiet and I had the opportunity to actually hear the things coming out of my mouth.

Lesson: when you become a parent the things you say will make you appear to be insane.

My son, being 3 1/2 months old, obviously cannot talk. But I talk to him, and he's pretty interactive in a non-verbal way. Here's how today's conversation sounded:

Me: [singing] doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo da da da doo do dah! *gasp!* Where's the music? What happened to the music? Kick the giraffe! Yay! Thank you! Aw, was that a fart? Toot toot. Ding din don, ding din don, frere jacques...where's the music? Kick the giraffe! Aw good job. Do you see your butterfly friends? Uh oh, are your butterfly friends making you angry? Let's get you out of there.

Certifiable.

Here's what actually happened during the conversation:

[singing along to the kid music] doo doo doo doo doo doo da da da doo do dah!
[the music stops]
*gasp!* Where's the music? What happened to the music? Kick the [stuffed] giraffe [on the support bar of the play gym, thereby re-activating the music]!
[He kicks the giraffe]
Yay! Thank you!
[He farts, then looks startled]
Aw, was that a fart? Toot toot.
[resuming singing along with the music, which has changed to "Frere Jacques"] Ding din don, ding din don, frere jacques [the music stops again]...
Where's the music? Kick the giraffe!
[He kicks the giraffe]
Aw good job.
[He looks up at the butterfly toys hanging off the top of the play gym.]
Do you see your butterfly friends?
[He starts to cry]
Uh oh, are your butterfly friends making you angry? [Crying continues]. Let's get you out of there.
[I pick up the Little Man and hold him on my shoulder].

See? It's all about context.

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Work-out Wednesday

Well, I'm not back to getting formal exercise. But I've been doing a few more positive things. First, I've been trying to take back my eating habits. I'd been cramming junk into my body and drinking soda every day; not as much of that anymore. I've been looking for healthy recipes and insisting on cooking them, sometimes over the skeptical half-objection of my husband. Lots more veggies, lean meats, and complex carbs (yay brown rice!).

With the return of summer heat I've also been much better about drinking enough water, which should help. When we ran out of soda I didn't buy any more (or let my husband buy anymore).

Also, the Little Man has decided he really likes this game where I lie on my back and hoist him up and slowly lower him down to get kisses. He laughs his head off...and my arms get toned. Win-win! He also makes a good medicine ball, I've discovered. I lie down with him sitting on my belly and then hoist myself up like I'm doing a crunch and lift him a bit so I can reach him for kisses. OH and finally, if he's drifting off to sleep I can go around the house tidying up, but I have to keep him steady (so he doesn't wake up or get all bendy in the neck area) so I end up doing kind of a squat to get things off low surfaces.

So it's not really formal exercise, but it's kind of like weight training, in a way. Plus, I get to spend time with my boy and get things done around the house while also getting a bit of exercise. It seems to be working a lot better than leaving the house for 30 minutes at a time to go running in 100 degree weather, even if it's slightly less effective.

I finally broke down and got some new pants, though. The ones that I was finally able to wear from pre-pregnancy...rapidly developed holes in the knees. I was relegated to sweats and my one pair of capris (or work clothes. But no. Not gonna happen on vacation). No bueno. Conscious of my budget, we headed to the Salvation Army. I found a pair of GAP jeans that fit me really well, but then the Little Man started unraveling. Not wanting him to make too big a scene at the Salvation Army, I rushed through the rest of the jeans rack looking for another pair of GAP jeans in that size and style. Hallelujah I found one! I figured I could get away with not trying it on, since I'd already tried the other one.

Big mistake. When I got home they were WAY too small for me. They were harder to button than another pair I had that were a size smaller. Weird, huh? Ah well...another pair of jeans to aspire to wear...someday.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Never Mind, I DO Win.

Tonight we had the magic Gomez album on. My husband was rocking the Little Man to sleep...but he wouldn't relax...because he was lunging for me.

I took him, and he was nearly out within two songs.

SCORE!

Friday, June 25, 2010

He Wanted His Mommy!

Last night the Little Man was getting t-i-r-e-d, and Dad went to go put him down to sleep. Nothing seemed to be working. 45 minutes of rocking and walking and soothing and nursing did nothing for him. One thing the little guy kept doing, though, was looking at me and reaching his hands out toward me.

Now, he does this often. He'll reach out for me, and once I get him all tucked into my arms he notices Daddy and OMGINEEDDADNOW!!!!!! and he does the full body leaning and reaching. Lather, rinse, repeat until one or the other of us leaves the room.

But last night I took him and he snuggled in, kind of whimpering. He'd been fussing for a while, and was only quiet when my husband was walking him around. I figured I would try the walking around thing, so I put on his go-to-sleep album on the iPod and walked around with him. (If anyone is curious, his favorite album to fall asleep by is A New Tide, by Gomez.

When I'm putting the Little Man to sleep I have a rule: once he knocks out, carry him around patting his back until the next song is over. If I put him down too soon he just wakes right back up, so I have to be sure that he's really asleep. After the 45 minutes of unsuccessful bouncing by Dad, I figured we would be in for a long slog of it.

Nope. 2 songs and he was out.

I realized...he wanted Mommy to put him to sleep! Oh joy of joys! He chose me for something other than boob sucking! I mean, for nursing I win by default, but this was something Dad could do just as well (and usually better) than I can.

You don't understand. When it comes to my husband and myself I never win. He is just too darn much fun. He can go to a park with his buddy and suddenly he'll have 20 kids on him wanting to play fun games. My own niece and nephew are allllllllllllllllllllll about "UNKA MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE!!!" and even though I used to be the fun aunt they far prefer playing with him.

So to be preferred for something. Wow. I had to restrain myself after putting the Little Man down from running downstairs and jumping up and down singing "I win! I win! He wanted me, I win!"

And then this morning happened. The little guy was obviously tired and ready for his first nap of the day. My husband was on sleep duty as I was otherwise occupied with the pump. He was having a hell of a time until he put on the Gomez album.

2 songs, kid was out. DAMMIT.

I don't win. Freaking pop rock wins. Oh well. He is only three months old, so I have plenty of time to win. And lose. But I'd better run out and buy a bazillion copies of that album so that we never lose it.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Work-out Wednesday

OK. So it's been pretty much a big fat FAIL for several weeks now. I haven't been checking in because there hasn't really been anything to check in about.

I think I might have learned a few things, though.

1. I feel crappy when I haven't been getting my exercise. As much as I say that I haven't been working out because I feel crappy, I really think it's the other way around.

2. Related to #1, it's really easy to make excuses. Like, "OMG I'm so stressed at the end of the school year, I just want to go home and veg." Or, "The baby is cranky so I can't go out and jog."

3. Letting one piece fall by the wayside invites other pieces to come undone as well. For example, I quit jogging and then my eating habits took a dive and then I started buying soda again.

And finally...

4. It's not a tragedy when it all falls apart, even if it's for weeks at a time. I stepped on the scale and overall was only up a pound since my last check-in here. Yeah, I've been making not-great food choices on the whole, but they're not terrible choices and I haven't been going overboard. I haven't been jogging, but I also haven't been laying around in bed doing nothing.

Knowing that I didn't take a huge step backwards when I fell of the work-out horse makes it a little easier to think about climbing right back on. It means that while I have taken a little step backwards while doing nothing, I have weeks of forward progress to look at while I was "being good." It makes it easier to think "OK. I can start up my good habits again and expect to make incremental progress, but if I skip a few days or a week it's not going to be the end of the world."

Will I start jogging again this week? I don't know. But I am determined to at least improve my eating habits and drink more water. And that's a start. And you know? Maybe it's not realistic to expect myself to get out there and jog 4 times a week (after all, there are BEES out there. Confession - I am deathly afraid of bees. And apparently there are lots of them out this time of year). But maybe if I change that expectation to just getting some exercise 4 days a week then that'll be OK. I have On Demand. I have the Wii Fit. Jillian Michaels and Jenny McCarthy might be able to help me out when I just can't bring myself to leave the house.

Let's work on being flexible with my means of meeting those goals.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Lesson: Naps are key

Oh man. Yesterday was fun. My husband, the Little Man, and I went sort-of-spur-of-the-moment down to visit some relatives to celebrate my youngest cousin graduating college. My sister and mom (who both live about 500 miles away) also made the decision to come last-minute and so I was excited to see so much family unexpectedly.

As we were getting ready to go, the Little Man nursed and then dropped off to sleep. It was about time for his long nap. In my parenting naivete, I said "No worries, he'll sleep in the car. It's a 2 hour ride, which is about right for his nap."

Um. Once woken to be placed in his car seat, he didn't go back to sleep. At all. For the rest of the day.

He did great at the party. He was smiley and playful and cooed at grandma and his aunts. He never cried once. Everyone remarked on how beautiful and well-behaved he was. At around the pre-arranged time we said our good-byes. Our goal was to get home before dark so that we could have some decompression time before bed. I hoped that he would get in a nap on the way home.

Nope. No such luck.

What was supposed to be a 2 hour ride took closer to 3. He screamed.his.head.off. We would pull over so that I could nurse him, calm him, burp him, change him - anything to make him happy. He was having none of it. He would calm down while we were stopped, but as soon as the car started up again he was right back at it.

Our poor little guy was mostly awake (with maybe two 15-30 minute naps) from 12:30 PM until 10:00 PM. He was a wreck. I felt terrible. He felt terrible. We all felt terrible.

Lesson for the day: Never wake him up from the long nap unless it's an emergency. And by emergency, I mean a fire or tornado is bearing down on the house. Also, while it's technically feasible to make last minute plans like we did with the baby...it's really best to plan these things ahead.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Not Cool, Dude. Not Cool At All.

Like many new moms, I took to the internet searches hard and fierce at the beginning of my motherhood. Everything was so new and weird that I needed constant reassurance that my kid was, in fact, doing normal baby things.

In the reading that I did, I learned lots of things about baby poop. Way more than most people would probably want to know. But hey. I was curious with a dash of paranoid.

I found out that it's normal for babies who are breast fed to go 7-10 days between pooping. 7-10? That's a lot of days. Lots of time for the mommy paranoia to set in.

Well, recently the Little Man decided that he wanted to test my paranoia. He went from going twice a day to skipping FIVE days. With no warning. Every time he got cranky I attributed it to his being "clogged up." I sat him up more often, hoping to coax a nugget. I bicycled his legs. I tried to mimic his "poop face" in an attempt to trick him into making a diaper deposit.


via Growing Your Baby

Finally, after a feeding I set him on my lap and recognized that familiar face. I yelled, "Hang on, Dude, hang on!" Ran to the other room, grabbed a disposable diaper, laid it on my lap, set him on top of the diaper and said "GO FOR IT, LITTLE MAN! Do your thing!"

And do it he did.

I am scarred for life.

That diaper was SO damn full. It took 3 cloth wipes to get all that shit picked up. Under previous circumstances one wipe was more than enough to deal with anything that kid sent my way. This time? Hoooooooooooh no. I think the kid lost a full pound after that special gift he gave me. For real.

I swore that my husband would be in charge of the next one. Also, that I would never eat peanut butter ever again.



Wednesday, June 16, 2010

The Little Man, Month 3

Such a rapidly changing boy!

  • You found your feet! Now that you're able to pull yourself forward (without grabbing our hands) you seem to be obsessed with trying to grab your little toes.
  • You have successfully graduated from tummy time by consistently rolling over when you want to. Of course, now that you don't have to stay on your tummy if you don't want to...you are finding it more tolerable.
  • Your smile can be truly impish, especially when you're eating.
  • Too many people around make you feel overwhelmed, just like Mom and Dad.
  • The butterflies on top of your play gym are your new BFFs, and it always cracks me up to see you smile and coo at them. I mean, really? They're not just playing hard to get...they really can't talk back to you. Or maybe they can and I just can't see it?
  • Are you really turning into Mr. Grabbypants already? My hair, my shirt, your diaper, your "gack rags," and they all end up in your mouth.
  • While you're not exactly mobile, you did manage to army crawl from my chest to my face the other day. We're in trouuuuuuuuuuuuble...I figure we have another 2 months before you figure out that you can do this on the floor, too.
  • It always cracks me up the way you open your mouth when I lean in for a kiss. I love that you're such a kissy baby.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Siblings in a Non-Traditional Family

So we have a pretty non-traditional family.

My husband is 23 years older than I am. Including the Little Man and myself, he has 4 biological children spread out over 3 mothers. His oldest two children are adults - nearly 22 and 20 years old each. They have a younger half-sister (via their mom) who is practically a 5th child to my husband. She is 8 years old. My husband's other daughter is 15 years old and lives out of state with her mom.

I confess one of my biggest fears with having a kid with my husband was that it would create weirdness with his other kids. The last thing I would want to do is make any of them feel like I was trying to take their dad's attention and love away from them with a new familial addition.

In particular I worried about the older two. First, I had gotten a job 200 miles away from them, which cut down on how much we got to see them. Then, I got pregnant almost right away.

My goodness was it a surprise then, when the Little Man was born.

Soon after the birth, their whole family came up to visit: my husband's kids, their mom, and their little sister. It was amazing to see how taken with him everyone was. He never got put down for a moment the entire time they were up to visit. His absolutely non-maternally-inclined oldest sister held him, cooed over him, and talked to him of conspiracies to train him in good taste and fashion. His brother, who is nearly always a matter-of-fact closed book, spent long amounts of time holding him, gazing into his eyes, and talking to him.

Any time I needed to do something both of his siblings were quick to offer to hold the Little Man for as long as I needed. Sometimes I would need to go retrieve him for a feeding. It was truly heartwarming.

And their little sister, no biological relation to my Little Man, was just as into him. She always wanted to hold him. In fact, the normally almost-hyperactive child (she has a hard time staying still for more than 15 second increments) informed us that she would sit on the futon and hold her "little brother" all day if she could get away with it.

As for the youngest, well, the relationship between us and her mom is nonexistent at best, adversarial at worst. The relationship between her and her dad has been mostly via telephone since she was 6 years old. Now, ten years later they have graduated to e-mail and telephone. I've always found it remarkable how well she and my husband get on, given the circumstances. Recently there have been very rough patches, but it seems as though they've reconciled. She informed my husband the other day that a picture of the Little Man is now her desktop picture.

Now, not even 2 months after the last visit, we are getting calls from my husband's oldest daughter saying that she wants to come up and spend another week with us visiting with her brother. It all makes me so grateful that my husband was able to cultivate such caring and trusting relationships with his kids that they feel a connection to their little brother.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Some more things I have learned

  • Babies have razor sharp claws that could be used as weapons of war.
  • Babies also seem to think that long hair is a more secure hand-hold than oh, say, a shirt.
  • Related to above: ponytails are back in fashion, at least in my world.
  • Babies make a really nifty excuse for why you can't go do things that you don't want to do. Or why you have to leave early.
  • Complex sounds are the best way for the Little Man to get to sleep. Screw Raffi, he gets lulled best by Animal Collective. Or Wilco.
  • Lastly for today...it takes wayyyyyyyyyyy more patience to be a mom than I had ever dreamed would be necessary. More on that in a later post.

Monday, June 7, 2010

It's not all wonderment and roses

Pumping for the work day is becoming less effective. My milk supply doesn't seem to be really effected. I just can't seem to trigger the let-down reflex through the pump lately.

Until about a week ago I was getting between 15 and 18 oz during my 3 pumping sessions at work. Then...the pump broke. This happened on a Friday, and I wasn't back to my regular pumping schedule with the replacement pump until Wednesday.

Since then, I've been struggling to reach 10 oz a day at work. The Little Man tends to eat through 14-17 oz during the day while I'm gone. I can feel my breasts filling up. I can hand express milk. But I can't get the pump to extract it. This is creating all kinds of sadness in my head. Mostly it's mommy guilt that I can't figure out how to provide for my kid in the way I want to.

But then last night it turned into something else, too.

My husband suggested formula, which I'm not opposed to in the event I really can't pump enough to make it through the last week of work. But that's not what he was talking about. He was talking about having formula so that when I'm "not in the mood" to nurse, or when I want some "alone time" he can take over feeding. What really gave me a case of the sads was when he said that he knows he can do 100% of the childcare during the day, but that I need to breastfeed when I get home...and that he wishes he could have the security of knowing that he could provide 100% of the childcare while I'm home.

He confided that he feels jealous when I come home from work and the Little Man ignores him to play with me. He says he feels guilty when I'm home and the Little Man gets hungry and he can't whip up a bottle and feed him.

Whether it's rational or not, my brain went straight to "You want to make me irrelevant." He wants to be able to care for the kid 100% even if I'm home? He's jealous of the alone-time that the Little Man and I get after my long day working? And now he's suggesting that I take some "alone time" in the evenings when he can take over the one job that only I can do?

I feel like he's calling me a lazy mother for every once in a while feeling frustrated that the Little Man wants to nurse when I'm in the middle of something else. I feel like he's trying to break up a special connection I have with my son. I feel like he's trying to head off any reason the boy might have to stay with me if things were to not work out.

I know none of that is true, but it's still hard to hear. And it makes me all the more upset that I haven't been able to pump as much as I could in the past. If I were able to maintain my stash then there would be no reason to buy any formula. I'd be guaranteed to not become a superfluous parent.

Friday, May 28, 2010

Bad Mom Confession

So, I have attention issues. I was never able to focus on one thing for very long. I used to do my homework in front of the TV, with whatever book I was reading sitting right next to me. Mom says she used to hate seeing me do this, until one day she asked me what was going on in the show I was watching, what I was doing for homework (and to explain it to her), and what was going on in the book I was reading - and I could tell her all three. Here's how it worked - I could do math or fill in the blanks on worksheets without paying 100% attention to it, so there was the homework + TV. I hated commercials and could block out the noise, so I would read my book during those. See? Efficient!

This has served me well almost anywhere I've worked. This does not serve me well in breast feeding.

I signed up for weekly e-mails from BabyCenter so I could get little tidbits of info on baby development. Each week a panel of pediatricians and child psychologists answer a question. Last week, the question was:

Is it OK to nurse my baby with the TV on?

I debated whether or not to read the answers. I don't necessarily watch TV while nursing, but...um. Let's just say the Little Man is nursing right now. I can't just sit there for 30 minutes and watch him eat. I just can't. I've tried. But I get bored. I do check in on him and make eye contact and talk to him when he's interested. But really, a lot of the time he's all business and focused on eating. Or he's using me as a pacifier and falls asleep. Or, well, I just need more sensory input than 30 minutes of staring at an infant can provide me.

So there it is. Bad Mom Confession: I have to have something else to do while I nurse my son. He's going to grow up disturbed and angry because of it. Or not. I figure we're pretty well bonded even if I don't focus 100% of my attention on him every time he nurses.

Oh, and I did read the answers. General consensus is that unless you have something else you HAVE to be doing (like reading a story to an older child or taking an important call) you should be spending each and every feeding holding, talking to, and bonding with your child.

Oh well.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Work-out Wednesday

So I officially skipped a running session. Saturday. I just wasn't feeling it until it was too late.

BUT in my defense, it was the first week that the Saturday run was introduced. So I ran just as many days as I had each week before. It's a cop-out, I know. But I don't think it's as egregious as it could have been.

Then there was Tuesday. It was, uh, raining. So I did Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred (level 1) instead. Holy crap did that kick my ass. By the end of the 20 minutes I wanted to bite someone's head off...but I was too tired.

All in all, it's going pretty well. The scale is going in the right direction, even if my clothes aren't quite all fitting yet. I resurrected my Spark People membership to keep track of my progress, and in the process decided to use the measuring tape as another way of tracking my goals.

I am 2 inches away from my pre-pregnancy size...in both hips and waist. So close!

OH OH OH!! Also, the community pool opens up this weekend. Starting next week I'm going to try to take one of my non-running days to go swimming. We'll see how that works out with the baby care. This one might have to wait until summer break starts (2 weeks away!!).

I'm too tired to look up all my goals, so this summary is from memory. Sorry. I blame Jillian.

  • Check in here: Check.
  • Water intake: so-so. Some days were awesome, others were mediocre.
  • Portion control: I was really good with this one this week, for the most part.
  • Veggies: Could have done better, but I've packed a salad for school most days. I call this a win.
  • Training: missed a day, but did every other day. When it rained I did the 30 Day Shred.
  • Weight Training: Started a program on Sunday and have stuck to it for a whole 3 days. Check?
  • Soda: I've stayed strong but had HUGE cravings for some soda this week. Megacheck.
Work-out schedule for the week:
Today: strength training 20ish minutes.
Thursday: Walk 2 minutes, jog 5 minutes, repeat 4 times. Strength training afterwards.
Friday: strength training 20 minutes
Saturday: Walk 2 minutes, jog 5 minutes, repeat 4 times. Strength training afterwards.
Sunday: Walk 2 minutes, jog 8 (!!) minutes, repeat 4 times. Strength training afterwards.
Monday: Strength training 20 minutes
Tuesday: Walk 2 minutes, jog 8 minutes, repeat 4 times. Strength training afterwards.

See? I'm trying to add in new things as my fitness levels improve. Go me! ::pats self on back::

As for progress...nothing seems too different this week. I'm down another 1/2 pound on the scale, but I don't like to use that as a measure. The same clothes are fitting, so at least I'm not going backwards. Here's hoping we can get a good routine going just adding things in slowly...

Monday, May 24, 2010

Reverse Mom/Work Guilt

I've heard a lot of moms mention mom guilt. I'm feeling some of it - I could do a lot of things better than I am doing. I should spend less time in front of the computer and more time interacting with my son. I should spend more time helping out my husband with household duties. I should step in and rock the Little Man to sleep more nights. I should worry less about working out and getting some semblance of my pre-pregnancy body back. I should do about a million things.

But one thing I refuse to guilt myself over is working. I support the family, and that's damned important if you ask me. I've always been the primary earner in this relationship, so it just makes sense that I go back to work. Do I wish I could stay home all day with my family? Of course, but that's not realistic and unless we come into a whole truckload of surprise inheritance from a previously unknown wealthy relative or win the lottery it's just not going to happen.

I do feel work-related guilt, though. From the other side. As a teacher, I care about all of my students. In my former life I would spent a lot of my time outside of work thinking about them and what I can do to help them in class, help them outside of class, help them develop and grow into adults. I would spend a lot of time in my own headspace thinking about tweaks I could make to my class that could make things run better. Now, I spend far less time doing that. I still care deeply about my students and I do spend time trying to fine-tune my style and my class...but once I get home my brain is on my own Little Man.

But every morning when I walk in and I remember something I had been planning on "fixing" in my brain that I just forgot about overnight, I feel guilty. My students get less of me because of my home responsibilities. My world has changed and theirs hasn't. I still stay after my contract time is over at work...but not as long as before. I still bring work home, but I don't focus on it as much as I did before. I still think about my students at home, but not to the same depth and as soon as the Little Man needs me for anything work vanishes from my brain.

I'm hoping that part of this is that I have a combination of being a new mother, a new teacher, and it's the end of the school year. I'm hoping that a new school year starting up in July will bring more balance. I'm hoping that I can continue to be a good teacher AND a good mom. And if all that hoping gets me nowhere, then I'd better find a way to make it work because this is the life we've got and I've gotta make it the best one I can give; to my son and to my students.

Saturday, May 22, 2010

New Mom Work Frustration

In my former life, I used to bring work home to do. I'm a teacher, and there just isn't enough time in a regular work day to get it all finished. At least, not during the first few years teaching. I'm sure once I get a regular schedule, an actual curriculum, and some more tricks up my sleeve it'll be a different story, but for now...nope. Not a chance.

I knew ahead of time that throwing a newborn into the mix would complicate my whole relationship with work. I would love it a little less, or at least be more inclined to leave it AT work, which would really bite me in the butt when deadlines come due. I knew that when I would need to bring work home it would be more difficult to get it done - you can tell the internet or a favorite TV program to wait an hour or two. Not so much with an infant.

Oh, but how much more difficult it would be I wouldn't find out until the actual time came.

My first foray into working from home came Tuesday night. I had a meeting to prep for the next day, my final formal observation in the morning. and just a couple of things to get done. No problem, I'd just stay up a wee bit later. Actually, that night happened to be no problem. Until 4 AM when the Little Man decided that that would be an awesome time to wake up for the day. I dragged myself into work, muddled through my observation (which went horribly), muddled through my meeting, and then muddled through the rest of the day when I realized...hooooo boy I have another last-minute-meeting set up for the next morning. And this one would take a lot more work.

I stayed after school a couple of hours to get as much done there as possible. I got home, spent time with my kid and then...the Little Man decided not to go to sleep at a reasonable hour. He was hungry. And we're low enough on our milk storage that I couldn't just ask my husband to pop a bottle in his mouth so I could get my work done. So I stayed up a couple of hours later than I would have liked to, finishing up the documents for this meeting.

The Little Man again woke up at 4AM. I cried.

No really, I did.

But I dragged myself into work at the usual time, got through the first part of the day, when the student whose parents I would be meeting with came up to me.

"My parents can't come today." He said.
"What." I replied. I didn't even make it a question. Just a vocal tic of disbelief.
"My brother got called in to work and my mom doesn't drive."
"Get on the phone, call them, and see if there's anything we can do." I said (his family does not speak English). I didn't mention this before, but I feel it's a key part of the story: the English-speaking brother and the kid's mother had showed up on Tuesday in person to schedule this meeting and they chose Thursday to meet.

I couldn't believe that I had stayed up so late on so little sleep, spent time away from my son in my own house, and worked so hard to prepare for this meeting just for the parents to flake out.

He called, and I got my answer: believe it. Meeting rescheduled for the next week.

Now it's Saturday afternoon. I have more work to do, this time writing my final exam and my review activities. Since waking up this morning at 7 (thank you, Little Man!) I have gotten precisely ONE page finished.

The kid won't nap. Ok, let me amend that. The kid won't nap for more than 15-20 minutes unless I'm holding him. The rest of the time he's hungry, wet, bored, or needs to burp. The landlord is coming by tomorrow to clear the lot for fire season, so my husband is outside doing some last-minute yard work. So it's just me and the Little Man inside hanging out. Why am I not working on my final now? Because as I'm typing this, the baby is asleep on the boppy on my lap, and I know that the moment I put him down he'll wake right up. It's been happening all morning.

It's a learning process. I'll learn to get my work done during his micro-naps. He'll learn to sit contentedly (or maybe not so contentedly) while I make myself a sandwich or fold some laundry in-between naps. It's all a dance and I'm just learning the steps. Just please don't change the beat before summer vacation or I might have a meltdown.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Work-out Wednesday

It's been a very good week over here. I managed to get into a pair of pre-pregnancy jeans this week with a minimum of muffin-top going on! I also cheated and looked at the scale, and I'm now 4 lbs away from my weight at the first doctor visit of the pregnancy. I'm also pretty close to being able to wear my former favorite pair of jeans. I'm so excited!

The walk/jog thing is going really well, too. I've been finding that my Sunday jogs are HELL and I feel like dying afterwards. Then Tuesday rolls around and I'm feeling slightly better...and then Thursday I'm able to finish the walk/jog pretty comfortably. Lather, rinse, repeat. So of course this is the week where things get more intense - I go 4 days instead of 3.

So here's the rundown for the week...
  • Check in here. Check.
  • Drink 64 oz of water. Check! I did it this week! It might not have been every day, but I've upped my intake enough that I can really feel the difference.
  • Portion control. Check. I even held myself back for spaghetti tonight. So proud.
  • Vegetables. Check! I've actually been really good about this one this week.
  • Soda. Still haven't had any. I'm going to actually cut this goal out starting next week. I think we have a handle on this one.
  • Train for 5k. Check. Still haven't missed a workout - sorta. I skipped Thursday last week, but made it up on Friday.
  • Weight training. Still fail. BUT I decided that I'm going to add things in slowly. Like how this week we're adding in a Saturday walk/jog. I'll do that for a week or 2. Then add in weight training. Then I'll add in some other form of exercise on my non-jogging days. I vote for swimming, because a) swimming is awesome, and b) it gets really hot during the summer where I live.
Training Schedule for the week:
Thursday: walk 3 minutes, jog 4 minutes. Repeat 4 times
Saturday: walk 3 minutes, jog 4 minutes. Repeat 4 times.
Sunday: walk 2 minutes, jog 5 minutes. Repeat 4 times.
Tuesday: walk 2 minutes, jog 5 minutes. Repeat 4 times.

Monday, May 17, 2010

Men love babies, too

On Saturday I had to go to a workshop to finish up my first year of BTSA (Beginning Teacher Support and Assessment) for my teaching credential. My support provider and I agreed to meet at Starbucks and caravan to the workshop. We also decided to bring the Little Man with us, partly to avoid having to use the lunch break to pump in the bathroom, but also because he's freaking adorable and thirdly because my support provider figured that we would be allowed to power through the paperwork faster if we had a baby in tow. (Don't worry, we cleared the baby thing with the BTSA people ahead of time, so we didn't show up to a professional function with a surprise baby).

I got to Starbucks far earlier than my support provider did, and I learned something: men love babies, too.

At one table there was a group of about 6 middle-aged men. While I was waiting for my latte to come up, one of them called over, "Excuse me, ma'am, but you have a baby on your chest." (the Little Man was hanging out in our Moby). I laughed and feigned surprise to see him sitting in there. The other men joined in.

"How old is he?"
"What's his name?"
"He's a good looking baby."

..and so on. I was kind of tickled to see a group of men interested in a baby.

And then a group of 4 young men walked in. A couple of them looked at the baby (now asleep) and asked all the same questions, and made the obligatory, "He's so cute," comments. I judged these guys to be a bit younger than me. They looked to be either in college or fresh out of it. Again, I was tickled.

...and then we got to the workshop. More male teachers came up and made comments than the women.

It was a fun day, and definitely blew apart my preconceived notions about what demographics would be most interested in a little baby.

So far we have old ladies and men of a variety of ages.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

The Little Man, Month 2

Well, Little Man, we've made it to 2 months. I can't believe how much you've grown already, and how much you are able to do. It's been so fun seeing your little personality emerge over the last two months.
  • Having Mom or Dad help you sit up is really fun.
  • You're "talking" to us more and more every day.
  • Music soothes your soul, even if it is just Mom and Dad singing to you sometimes.
  • "When I'm 64" is a particular favorite. As is anything by the Counting Crows
  • You love to pull yourself to sit using Mom or Dad's hands. It's damn amazing to see.
  • You've perfected that "Mom, you're crazy," look.
  • Tummy time is still awful, but you're getting so good at it. And it's still MUCH better tummy-to-tummy with Mom.
  • Waking up is so hard, but if Mom or Dad are there to greet you, you're all smiles.
  • Rolling over from tummy to back is freaking scary.
  • I swear sometimes you're on the verge of laughing and it makes me so happy and yet nostalgic at the same time.
  • You love being propped up standing, and you're even bearing some weight on those chubby legs. Such a strong boy.
  • The cameras are fascinating, but I sometimes wonder if you're as annoyed with the paparazzi as an A-list celebrity is.
  • You are an incorrigible flirt with the teenage girls. Gonna have to keep an eye on you...
  • The way your face lights up for a moment when I get home from work melts my heart. Every.damn.time.
  • You're starting to play with us, and that is so exciting. We are going to have such fun good times, you and Daddy and I.
I'm so proud of you, kid.

Friday, May 14, 2010

Experiencing Technical Difficulties...

So work has been kicking my ass lately. I guess 8 days back on the job doesn't really qualify as "lately," but oh well.

Some of my students have reverted hardcore back to the initial "testing" phase - meaning they're bending (or breaking) every rule to see what I'll do. It's a typical beginning-of-the-year thing, and I guess for these particular students 2 months of maternity leave is long enough to consider this the beginning of a new year. Who knows. At any rate, even though most of my students have been wonderful, those few have been such an energy drain. Meaning I've been coming home, playing and taking care of the Little Man, and then zoning out until I pass out. Not much energy for the whole writing thing.

So no new entries have been written for a couple of days.

I have plenty of ideas, so more posts will be coming soon...but I think until summer vacation I'll have to pare it back to mostly M W F posting.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Work-out Wednesday

I've been pretty good this week. The walking/jogging is getting a little easier. By "easier" I mean I don't feel like I'm going to die after a jog anymore. I'm really starting to feel like my goal of running a 5K by the end of August is not such a far-fetched goal after all.

I haven't missed any walking days yet. I fully anticipate that I will, but it hasn't happened yet. Already my work pants seem to be fitting slightly better, but not better enough that I can wear any of my other clothes.

  • Check in here. Check.
  • Drink 64 ounces of water. FAIL (except on walking days). I can't seem to get it up for that much water. I'm really good at work, but after getting home it just slips my mind.
  • Portion control. Check.
  • One more serving of vegetables per day. Semi-check. I guess it's better than last week. It hasn't been every single day, though.
  • Cut soda from diet. Check. Still cut.
  • Train for 5K. Check.
  • Weight training. FAIL. Although I did sign up on sparkpeople.com for a weight training program. I just haven't used it yet.
It's just so hard to do all of this with baby in tow, which is something I never thought I would have said before having the kid. I mean, how hard is it to remember to drink water or watch your portions? Or eat veggies? Or to not drink soda?

But the thing is, when I'm hanging with the Little Man, I'm not foremost on my own mind. He is. I don't think about how much water I'm supposed to be drinking when he's awake and wanting to play, or get changed, or eat. When I eat, I either eat super slowly (because I'm holding him and don't want to dribble food all over him), or super quickly because a sure-fire way to make a baby cry is to start doing something that requires NOT holding him. Most of the time I just want to be able to push a button on my microwave and have a meal appear.

I guess I'm learning that this whole taking-care-of-myself thing is a lot harder than one would think.

Training schedule for the week:
Thursday: walk 5 minutes, jog 2 minutes, repeat 4 times.
Sunday: walk 3 minutes, jog 4 minutes, repeat 4 times.
Tuesday: walk 3 minutes, jog 4 minutes, repeat 4 times.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Sleep Deprivation

Sleep deprivation makes you do funny things like lose your balance, trail off mid-sentence, and become forgetful. (Um, I forgot some key pumping supplies AGAIN today. When I got home I promptly pulled out the electric pump and got 16 ounces in between feedings. No joke.)

Lack of sleep tends to make me weepy, cranky, or physically cold. I usually look like hell when I don't get my zzzs. I come down with colds, I pick fights with my husband, and I have a hard time getting through the work day.

When I learned that I was pregnant, this was one thing that scared the crap out of me.

I learned that I'm still weepy, cranky, cold, look like hell, pick fights, and have a hard time getting through the work day.

But I also find that all of those things are easier to deal with when it's not 2 AM. Lots of deep breaths, venting to my Freaky Internet Mom Friends, and generous amounts of concealer help me start the day. Coffee, lots of check-ins at home, a solid work routine, and lots of deep breaths help me get through the rest of the day.

It's a deeper kind of tired than I've ever experienced before. This doesn't compare to a bad night's sleep, or a week's worth of poor sleep. It's like gravity decided to double its force.

I confess that there have been times in the middle of the night that I've gotten angry with the Little Man. But he's dependent on me, so that means I need to suck it up, put those feelings aside for a little bit, and take care of him. And then when it's time to get up, it's like I have a new super power: no matter how tired or frustrated I am, or how heavy I feel gravity tugging at my limbs, I'm able to get up and function.

I might call a student by the wrong name, or forget to bring my breast pump supplies to work, but mostly I do OK. And I still want to come home and play instead of sleep.

Crazy, huh?

Monday, May 10, 2010

First Mother's Day

Thing the first: I have a wonderful husband.
Thing the second: I have an adorable baby.

I woke up yesterday morning a bit earlier than I would have liked, but slightly later than I have to be up during the week. Not much control over that when Mom is the food source and baby decides to be hungry. Oh well.

Then, the surprises. My husband doesn't generally go for holidays like this. He dismisses Father's Day and has, uh, strong feelings about Valentine's Day. At his daughter's insistence he bought me a Valentine's Day gift the first year we were dating. It was a package of cotton balls. No joke. Lots of people would get offended, but I got a good laugh out of it.

Needless to say I wasn't expecting much for Mother's Day.

Well...the day started off with breakfast in bed. Breakfast included generous servings of bacon. Mmmmmm. Then my husband took the Little Man out into the kitchen and returned with...some mini roses in a little pot.

It was the first time he's ever gotten me flowers. Awwwww...

We did a photo shoot with the Little Man and generally lazed about. Then for dinner, my husband made me my favorite dinner.

Overall it was a wonderful, relaxing day.

And here is some evidence of Thing the second:






I love baby tootsies!

Happy (Belated) Mother's Day to all the mommies out there!

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Hand Expressing Breast Milk

Happy Mother's Day!

It's story time!

Remember in my work re-cap yesterday how I said it started getting rough as the week went on? Well, by the time Thursday came around I was feeling pretty sleep deprived. It was tough getting up for work and it was getting tough driving home after a long day. When I get tired I get pretty spacey. I mean, I'm pretty spacey all the time anyway. I was always the kid who did her homework diligently and then forgot to put it in her backpack the morning it was due.

So Thursday morning rolled around and I was really dragging. I managed to get the Little Man fed, changed, and I ate and packed my lunch and then OMGTIMETOLEAVERIGHTNOW!!!11!!!!!1!! I rushed out after kissing my baby and my husband good-bye.

After a decent first block at work, I went into my cooler to grab my pump flanges and bottles. They were...MIA. WTF. I realized that I had left them at home in the dish drying rack. This was not good. This was very not good. On each of the 3 days previous I had pumped between 17-20 ounces of milk at work. Now I had nothing to pump with.

I double checked inside my bra - at least I had remembered the nursing pads and a sweater. Sure it was 80 degrees out, but I could pass myself off as feeling a bit chilly, right? I decided to tough it out until lunch, and then possibly express some milk into the sink in the break room bathroom. When that time came I eyed my co-workers eating lunch in the break room...and then decided that I would feel too skeeved jacking my boob off into the sink at work.

As soon as I could get away with it, I left work. I raced home, looking forward with great anticipation to relieving the intense pressure that had built up in my chest over the course of 9 hours. I got home, ran past my husband and the baby to get all set up and went to go plug in the...oh crap. I left the actual PUMP at work. WTF again!! Now I was really panicking. I was starting to actually get swollen.

Then I realized...oh hey. I was going to hand-express into the sink at work...why not hand-express into the pump bottles?

So I did. I finessed and squeezed and rolled my fingers and finally got a rhythm going. And between both breasts I got 6 ounces into the bottles over the course of about 20 minutes. I could have gotten more, but holy crap did my hands hurt.

Also, I found that I was REALLY grateful to myself for deciding not to express at work. My pants got soaked. I was so engorged that with each let-down the slightest touch would send milk shooting out of my breast in all directions...most of it into the bottles, but enough sprayed elsewhere that I ended up needing to do a load of laundry and take a shower.

I might have cried a little. My husband is lucky to have survived the afternoon after mooing at me. But it's all over, and lesson learned.

The moral of the story? DON'T FORGET YOUR PUMP STUFF...for the love of God, just don't. At least not if you're producing enough milk to nurse Octomom's brood. It's not fun and it's really not pretty.

Oh, also try to get enough sleep. Lack of sleep makes people wacky, yo.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

First Week Back to Work

I did it. I finished a full week back at work.

I have to say, I love my job. I'm a teacher at a pretty rural school. This was my first year there (uh, yeah, oops on the getting-pregnant-3-weeks-before-school-started thing...), and I'm amazed at how wonderful all of my co-workers have been.

The campus supervisors checked in with me, begged for pictures, and then promised to watch my class if I ever need extra time to pump at break or lunch.

Lots of fellow teachers have checked in and welcomed me back, wished me well, and forgave my exhausted and addled brain.

The administrators welcomed me back and then stepped back for a couple of days to let me settle in before letting me know about some extra duties I need to take care of before the end of the year.

My students welcomed me back with a banner and were extra nice to me for about a day.

Then reality set in. My students started to unravel on the second day back. They had two months with a substitute, so it was time to test me again like it was the first week on the job. A lot of patience and a reviewing of MY expectations got them (mostly) back in line.

It's been rough this week. I have to leave the Little Man at home, and he definitely noticed. In fact, this was the week where he decided to quit falling back to sleep after the 2 AM feeding. It was also the week that my husband quit waking up when the Little Man cried at night. So I've been exhausted, frustrated, and then I've had to come back and be on top of my teaching game. After all, this IS my first year in a new district in the middle of a budget crisis.

It's been emotionally and physically draining. What's saved me this week is the support of my co-workers and knowing that a smiling (if tired) boy is waiting for me at home.

Next week is a short week, so that will also be a help. Also, the week after kicks off the end-of-year festivities starting Thursday. And then we have dead week, then finals. The school year is in that magical place where time seems to start accelerating (at least from the teacher's point of view...ha!).

Even given all those positives, though, I wish I were talented enough to work from home doing something like writing or painting or, well, pretty much anything. Oh, who am I kidding. I wish I were just wealthy enough to never work again and spend as much time as I want with the Little Man. Here's to dreams :raises glass:

Happy weekend!

Friday, May 7, 2010

Acne

When I talk about my experience with pregnancy I feel like I should be ducking to avoid being hit by projectile objects thrown with great force by, well, pretty much any person who has experienced pregnancy.

During pregnancy I didn't experience most of the nasty physical symptoms: no morning sickness, my fatigue was manageable, my hair got less greasy than before, I didn't get any (new) stretch marks, and my skin got clearer.

::ducks::

My skin is paying for it now, though. I hadn't had a facial eruption like the one I got a couple of weeks after birth since I was 14. It's been pretty horrifying.

But I have to say, even that is nothing compared to the acne infestation on my baby's face. Tons of tiny little whiteheads on his cheeks, neck, sides of his forehead, and the top of his back. There had been plenty of warnings from all the baby books I've read so far, but nothing prepared me for actually seeing it.

Poor kid. At least it's just acne. And he doesn't care about his facial eruptions...yet.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

I Married the Baby Whisperer

I admit it. I'm not very good at calming an upset baby.

This is why in my former life I would decline invitations to hold people's babies. I knew that it would be fine for a little bit, and then the tiny little face would start to contort and turn red and the baby siren would fire up. And no matter what I do, the siren would continue until the kid's parent came to the rescue. I'd hand the kid over with relief and a sense of, "What the hell am I going to do when I have one of my own?"

Problem solved! I married and procreated with The Baby Whisperer.

He's amazing.

Now, I do have to say that it's easier for me with my own kid than it was with other people's kids. The Little Man knows me, so if he's gonna calm down, he's gonna do it faster than other babies did.

But I can't touch what my husband does. He's tried to show me what he does, and I've tried to copy his movements, his tone of voice, everything. Nope, Daddy does it best. I can be up in the middle of the night for an hour trying to comfort the Little Man before my husband relieves me - and the Little Man is sound asleep within 10 minutes. No exaggeration.

If the baby is tired I put him to sleep in my arms and then try to lay him down for a nap. The Little Man will wake up immediately, reaching his arms back up to me. He just doesn't usually sleep very soundly when I'm the one doing the rocking. My husband, on the other hand, will put him to sleep and then he can practically spiral-throw the kid into the bassinet without waking him. OK, that's an exaggeration. But he doesn't need to be nearly so careful as I do when laying the baby down.

It's a blessing, I tell you. A blessing sent from heaven.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Work-out Wednesday

Ho.Lee.Hell.

I just got back from day 2 of my training to build a running base.

Let me just say preemptively in my defense that I live in the Sierra Nevada foothills. Key part of that sentence? HILLS.

I feel pretty tore up. I've never considered myself to be in good shape...well, scratch that. I was in pretty good shape when I was surfing every day, but that was about 2 months of my life. Anywho, other than that anomalous period of time I've been a pretty sad sack. But I've NEVER felt so worked as I did after these two workouts. Just another sign of either how rough pregnancy can be on the body...or how lazy I got in the last 10 months.

So here's the punchline: both training sessions involved walking for 6 minutes and jogging for 1 minute, repeat 4 times. Yeah, a damn WALK kicked my ass. But like I said...on hills. That has to count for something, right? And I made an effort to walk fast and jog faster than my walking pace, so that counts for something else, right?

I'm just going to tell myself that training on hills will just get me into better shape, and faster. Yeah. That's it.

Here's my goal checklist:
  • Check in with progress: Check
  • Drink 64 ounces of water every day: Sorta. I've been drinking more water, but not quite that much.
  • Portion control: Check
  • More veggies: EPIC FAIL. We ran out of veggies and haven't gotten any more at the store. But I've been eating fruit!
  • Cut soda out: Check
  • Running: Check.
  • Weight training: FAIL. Didn't even try this week.
Progress? It was a little easier zipping and buttoning into my work clothes yesterday and today...but that could all be in my head.

Running base training plan for the next week:
Thursday: Walk 6 minutes, jog 1 minute, repeat 4 times
Sunday: Walk 5 minutes, jog 2 minutes, repeat 4 times
Tuesday: Walk 5 minutes, jog 2 minutes, repeat 4 times

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Dear Doctor Google,

I need to break up with you. Every time I notice my son doing anything new, I immediately run to see what you have to say about it.

Was his smiling on time? Was it (:fingerscrossed:) early? Late? Should he be able to roll from his back to his side yet? 'Cause he totally does. When he says "goo," or "khhhhhhkkhhhhah," is that developmentally appropriate for a 6 or 7 week old kid? If I prop him up against a pillow and he sits up by himself for 45 seconds, does that mean that he'll be an early walker? How can I tell when he's teething? Is his poop normal? He's holding his head up really super well, isn't that special? Tell me it's special. Please tell me my kid is advanced. Or at least normal. OK, just let me know my kid isn't a freak. Scratch that, I know he's not a freak, I'M the freak around here. But seriously...he was doing mini-pushups at 3 weeks old. That's got to count for something in developmental bonus points. We do get bonus points, right?

As you can see, my relationship with you has become exceedingly toxic. I'm spending so much time over-analyzing every little thing my son does that I almost feel like I'm missing out on enjoying it. In one of my gazillion searches of your vast stores of knowledge, you told me something that I need to remember: if I think something is wrong, call the pediatrician. Otherwise, relax and enjoy watching the baby grow up.

So, Dr. Google, I'm afraid I have to let you go. I know you'll understand. It'll be better for all of us this way.

Sincere Regards,
Mama

Monday, May 3, 2010

Cloth Diapering

Long before the Little Man was born, my husband and I decided that we wanted to use cloth diapers. For us it was mostly an economical concern, but the idea of keeping diapers out of the landfills was pretty attractive, too.

We did decide, though, that in the very beginning and for trips outside the house we would use disposables.

That is pretty much where the agreement ended, though.

I spent hours days weeks poring over informational websites. I talked to my sister, who had used cloth diapers with her younger child. I compared prices, looked on Craigslist, read reviews, and agonized. All-In-Ones? Fitteds? Pockets? Pre-folds? If I do pre-folds should I use Chinese or Indian? If I choose to do covers and pre-folds, do I get safety pins or Snappis? Should we have something different for overnight?

Finally, my husband asked me what I was obsessing about.

"I'm trying to figure out what to do for diapers."
"What do you mean? We're doing cloth."
"Yeah, I'm trying to figure out what system we should invest in. I keep reading that we should have a variety of diaper systems in our stash so that we can find out what works best for us, but that's a lot of mon..."
He cut me off.
"What do you mean? You get the diaper cloths and then there's the plastic pant things that cover them."
"Plastic...pants?"

Now let me explain. My husband is quite a bit older than I am. He has three older children, the youngest of whom was cloth diapered. This child is now a sophomore in high school. Clearly he didn't realize how far diapering technology had come in the last 16 years.

I showed him a few product pages and the first thing he pointed to was the price.

"$12.50 for a cover? That's ridiculous. And what's an 'All In One' and why do they want $16 for it?"
"Well, if you really insist, we can get the plain plastic pants. I think there's a sale here for $4 each."
"FOUR DOLLARS?!? That's insane. They're plastic pants. Can't you find any cheaper than that?"

*sigh*

I gave in, ordered the plastic (actually, nylon) pants, and a week later they arrived on our doorstep. Eager to get started on our cloth diapering adventure, I tore open the packaging to find...gigantic plastic pants.

I re-read the packaging, re-read the website information, and saw a discrepancy. The website said these were for babies 7-10 lbs. The packaging said 15-20 lbs. I contacted customer service. They assured me that the packaging was labeled wrong and that this was a known issue.

They were still huge. They would not do.

So I bought a Thirsties Duo Wrap. It was wonderful. It is wonderful. My grandmother bought us two more.

And my husband? Totally converted. After one diaper change using the updated cover style he was ready to ditch the plastic pants he so insisted on buying.

I so win.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

The Little Man's First Smile

The Little Man flashed his first, real, undeniable, eyelid-crinkling social smile right around 5 weeks. We had been seeing the beginnings of smiles for almost two weeks by that time. In play, or when we would talk in silly voices, the corners of his mouth would tighten ever so slightly and ever so inconsistently. My husband and I would catch our breath, waiting for the cheeks to turn up or his eye to flash knowingly, something that could be called definitively a smile.

"Was that a smile?" I would ask.

"He smiled," my husband would reply with certainty. But it wasn't quite there.

No, this 5 week smile was different. It was morning, and we had all just woken up. I left the room for a few moments and came back to give the Little Man my good-morning kisses. When I approached the bed, I saw it - his little toothless mouth open, corners turned upward in a grin, his eyes squinted slightly with joy.

The milk lady was here!

...because we all know that's where that smile came from. Right now, less than two months old, the kiddo doesn't know that we're his parents. He doesn't know yet how much we love him, that he came from us, that we would do anything for him. No, what that smile told me was that he knows that I can be counted on to meet a need. He gets hungry and I feed him. He wants to be picked up and his dad or I hold him. He gets wet and uncomfortable and we make him dry and comfortable. We are consistently with him every day.

That's what that smile told me. That smile told me that we're doing our job with him, or that we're at least on the right track.

And ever since then we've been in pursuit of ever more beautiful smiles, and he's been giving them freely.

Saturday, May 1, 2010

Growth Spurts

So, the Little Man just finished his 6 week growth spurt. Thank.Heavens.

I mean, I should have thought of what it might be like ahead of time. Shortly after he was born I heard of the 10 day, 3 week, and 6 week growth spurts - as well as a few later on that I'm choosing not to think about right at the moment. My thoughts on the growth spurts were this abstract mix of "Aw, how sweet," "It will be so exciting to see how he changes!" and "...but I don't want him to grow up too fast!"

None of those thoughts came to my mind in the middle of these growth spurts. Not one. Well, maybe the last one a little.

Remember how when you were a teenager it seemed like you ate and ate and ate and nothing ever satisfied that gaping, bottomless pit that was your stomach?

Well, that seems to be how it works for babies, too. I should have known this. I don't mean to come across as too cocky or anything, but I'm a pretty smart person. I think about things, sometimes too much even. Logic and memory should have served me here. But no.

The Little Man stayed attached to my boob for three days straight at ten days. Three days straight at three weeks. Two days straight at six weeks.

I was sore. I was getting raw. Those were the only times since before my milk came in that I needed to use the lanolin cream. Each time he had a spurt it seemed that he would spend his non-eating time fussing or crying. I felt chained to the bedroom because of the feeding schedule, relying on my husband to bring me food so that I wouldn't have to get up. Could I have left the Little Man there to go fix myself a sandwich or leftovers? Sure, but then we would have a crying baby. It wouldn't be the end of the world, but it's a whole new stress on a new mom.

Before each spurt was over I would find myself in tears at least once. I would be appalled at myself for being angry. And between dreams of wine and a shower I would wonder how the hell single moms manage to do it.

At the end of each growth spurt relief would come when the Little Man's fatigue set in. You see, that was the other part that mirrors the teen years. Sleep. His little body needed sleep so that it could put all that nutrition to use in growing.

And my nipples healed over the course of that day or two. And I iced my re-engorged breasts after a long, hot shower and a glass of wine.

Friday, April 30, 2010

Mom Wars, or...why can't we agree to disagree?

A lot of people are great parents before they have kids. We've all heard about (or experienced) people saying within earshot of a mom dealing with a tantrum or a crying baby or some other rather embarrassing situation, "Well, if I had a child, I wouldn't let them get away with that." Or saying "When I have children I won't feed them formula/breastmilk/ice cream/junk food...or use the television as a babysitter...or [insert some judgmental remark here]." You get the picture.

Annoying? Yes, but it kind of makes sense. They don't know. They haven't been in that situation before. Maybe they wouldn't do any of that stuff. Maybe they would, but at least (in my head) there's the ignorance factor. Heh. Maybe I'm so forgiving because I was totally guilty of this before the Little Man was born.

What really gets me are the MOMS who say this stuff. It's like a giant pissing contest between judgy moms and whoever gets their children to age 18 without breaking any mom taboos first wins. Bonus points if you can inflict guilt on as many other moms as you can in the process.

Here's my take on it.

I'm one of 5 kids. My oldest sibling is 15 years older than my youngest sibling. Mom was 23 when she had the oldest of us, 38 with the youngest. So she's been the "young mom" and the "older mom."

My two older sisters were both formula fed. My brother and I were exclusively breast fed, and my younger sister started on the breast but was switched to formula at 3 months because she had both upper and lower teeth and was, um, not gentle.

My two older sisters were cloth diapered. My younger siblings and I were in disposables from birth to potty training.

And so on. In other words - we were raised pretty differently from each other.

But in the end, we all ended up walking, talking, making it through school, and all 5 of us graduated college. Including my brother who has autism - which introduced all KINDS of socially "unacceptable" (for the time) parenting strategies.

What works for one person won't necessarily work for someone else. What works for one KID won't necessarily work for the next kid. Moms should know this. Moms should be experts in this. So someone wants to formula feed or use cloth diapers or disposables or elimination communication, or co-sleep, or have their kid sleep in the nursery, or watch TV before age 2, or cry-it-out. BFD. It won't ruin a kid, and as long as said kid is happy, healthy, and well cared for it's none of anyone else's business.

That's not to say that I don't plan to post strategies or things that have worked for me with the Little Man. I'm all for sharing tools to stick in the Mom Toolbelt, just not trying to force everyone to use them.

Ok? Ok.

/soapbox rant

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Old Ladies Love Babies, part 2

The other day we took the Little Man on a day trip to go visit my grandfather. My husband, parents, Little Man, and grandpa went out for lunch and afterward spent some time at the assisted living facility where he lives.

I had to go fax my doctor's note in to work, so my dad and I left for about 10 minutes to get that done at the facility's front desk. By the time we came back...

..Oh. Mah. Gaw.

They were swarming my husband. It was like a scene from The Birds.



...except instead of crows, they were surrounded by little old ladies. They all wanted to look at him and touch his little feet. We got more than one suggestion to leave the Little Man there for them to play with.

I have to admit, though, that I was secretly tickled every time one of them said "He's just the cutest baby!" And they didn't try to touch his hands or his face or criticize me in any way. So it was all good.

And I think it would be good to bring the Little Man down there more often. Good for him, and good for the little old ladies in his fan club.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Work-out Wednesday

I'm damn lucky, and I fully admit that.

I gained 34 pounds during the pregnancy and since delivery I have lost about 24 of those pounds.

However, prior to the pregnancy I had put on an extra 10 pounds already. The result? I have very few clothes that fit. Thankfully most of my work clothes will do for now, but as for the weekends I'm still wearing sweats and maternity pants.

I also did the dumb thing during pregnancy and didn't take the doctor's advice about exercise. He wanted me to walk two miles a day and I just decided not to. The result of that? I get winded walking up the stairs.

So I'm setting some fitness goals for myself and plan to keep myself accountable here.

  • Check in here with my progress on Wednesdays
  • Drink 64 ounces of water daily
  • Keep to USDA guidelines for portion control
  • Add at least one more serving of vegetables every day
  • Cut soda from the diet
  • Follow a training program to work up to a 5k run
  • Work up to a steady weight training routine
I know that goals are meaningless unless there's some way to measure progress. I don't want to get stuck on the scale so instead I'll use the fit of my clothing as the true test and also as my reward for success. Right now I have a pile of 6 pairs of pants that do not fit. As I make progress I'll look better, feel better, and the objective proof will be in the brand new (old) wardrobe!

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Returning to Work

I had my 6 week postpartum checkup yesterday.

Side note: I highly recommend reminding the doctor about the lube before the pelvic exam, just in case he or she forgets. Trust me. Yeowtch.

I've been OKed to return to work on Monday. How has it been 6 weeks already?

Bit of history: I've struggled with depression for many, many years. Typically it pops up when I spend a lot of time at home. In fact my healthiest time, mentally, was when I was going to school full time and working three jobs (one full-time and two part-time). Too much time at home makes mama go, well, crazy.

Because of this I had always assumed that if or when I had kids I would need to continue working if only for sanity's sake. I had figured that if I worked I would ironically be more available to my kids because I would have less time to dwell in a negative mindframe and thus have more emotional energy for the kids.

Now I'm in a situation where I have to work. I'm the main source of income for the family so there isn't a choice.

Every time I think about it I want to cry. Since the Little Man was born I have been there for the diaper changes, the feedings, I've soothed him when he cried, I saw his first smile (at me!), I've bathed him, held him, loved him 24 hours a day. Starting a week from yesterday I have to give away 9 of those hours to someone else. I'm so sad that I might miss his first laugh, the first time he rolls over, crawls, walks, his first word. Even though I know he's too young to have this thought or feeling I worry that he'll think I'm abandoning him all day, that I prefer to be away from him while I'm at work.

It hasn't been a vacation staying at home. The Little Man is a demanding task master. As my husband puts it, "Having a child is the heaviest burden you never want to put down." I never knew how true that statement is until only six weeks ago.