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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.