Thursday, April 29, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
Crybaby
It used to take something very emotional for me to well up, like the scene in the movie Castaway, where Helen Hunt runs out to Tom Hanks in the rain and kisses him so passionately and says "You're the love of my life!" Seriously, I just got choked up thinking about it...it gets me every time!!!
But ever since I had my daughter I have become mush. That commercial about the couple going on vacation as girlfriend/boyfriend and coming back as fiances? I can't even watch it. Anything on television that has anything to do with babies - forget about it. I have a friend that once cried at the end of Look Who's Talking 3...you know the one where the dogs talk? We have since made so much fun of her for this incident, and now I am sure I would be water works if I saw that now...babies and dogs that talk?? DONE.
If it has the slightest hint of having anything to do with being a mom, love, babies, or dogs, grab the tissues because here come the tears. That infomercial about the dogs in a shelter? Are you kidding me? Before I could just turn the channel, but now if I even hear "In the arms of an angel...far away from here" I started to well up. I can no longer watch anything that has to do with children being harmed either, which seems to be every episode of Law & Order: SVU now.
When Seth Aaron won Project Runway? One tissue...My daughter scooting forward while doing tummy time the other day? Two tissues. Kate Gosselin getting kicked off Dancing with the Stars? Three tissues.
(TOTALLY KIDDING. I don't watch that show and I think that woman is horrific.)
Back to my weepy issues. I met a woman today (the mother of the man I am currently buying a house from) who lost her husband 12 years ago when he went in for minor eye surgery, and never came out, only to find out 9 days later that she had cancer. She was given 2 years max to live, and here she was alive and totally healthy, in the same room with me 12 years later. I couldn't help but get weepy. Not wanting this stranger to think I was an emotional mess, I blamed my wet eyes on my allergies. Always my go-to excuse...
If I even think about how lucky my life is right now I get teared up. I have this gorgeous miracle of a child next to me who I am lucky enough to spend all my days with, a husband who supports us whom I love with all my heart, a new house to move into, best friends getting married to wonderful men, others having more beautiful babies to call me Auntie, my family is healthy (and I finally get to see them more often since my daughter's birth), and the only thing stressing me out right now is picking paint colors for our walls. Tough life! I am truly blessed and so thankful every day.
Uh oh, Say Yes to the Dress is on...better grab the box of Kleenex.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Paci Wars: Return of the Peace Maker
Cut to two days ago when she was so overtired she was screaming herself hoarse. Again I tried the PM, but this time she went to town on that thing...and thankfully fell sound asleep shortly afterwards. And just like that we were back on the pacifier train.
For the past 48 hours all she wants to do is suck on a pacifier, which I have mixed emotions about. I was happy to have her ditch the paci and suck on her hand, because she could soothe herself pretty much instantly and I didn't have to be a paci butler and keep re-inserting it into her mouth. But, her hand didn't quite do the trick of a pacifier. I was also happy that we didn't have to have the paci-fairy come at some point in the next year, and deal with all the attachment issues that come along with it.
I am glad to have it back in the mix (at least for now) because she is instantly soothed when it is put in her mouth. But, now we are dealing with the whole "crying when it falls out" as well as the "I can pull this out of my mouth but I can't put it back in so now I am getting upset you better help me now woman!" thing.
And I have no idea if this has any relation to the return of the PM, but SHE SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT!!! I had put one in her mouth as she was in her crib, but she shortly spit it out before falling asleep at 8 PM last night...
Whatever it is due to the return of the PM or not, I say it is a Festivus Miracle!!!
Friday, April 23, 2010
Wannabe
I moved to my crunchy small town from Boston when L was 15 months old. My husband and I had just one car at the time, which he needed for work. I saw this as an opportunity to become a true mom of the area. I bought myself a trailer for my bike, a helmet for my son and was ready to embrace my latent inner-hippie. I took one preemptive practice run around the block a few times and then felt ready to be a real local. I imagined myself in the best shape of my life from biking everywhere! I imagined my days biking into town with my happy toddler, meeting up with some like-minded women, running a few errands and coming home feeling fit, refreshed, in-touch and like a great mom. I was going to be that mom and I was psyched.
For my first real outing, I packed L into the trailer with a snack and a drink and headed off to the supermarket. I loved the adventure of it all! I found the bike rack, figured out how to park my giant trailer there without obstructing the whole rack and felt great as I headed into the market. I still felt great as I packed L back into the trailer and surrounded him with the groceries: 2 gallons of milk fit nicely under his seat, eggs and raw meats in the back where he couldn’t reach them, non-fragile items packed all around him. It was a tight squeeze. Once I got it all secure, I hopped on for my ride home.
I had not considered several factors:
- Groceries are heavy;
- Heavy trailers are very hard to pull;
- The supermarket was downhill from my house, which means that my house was uphill from the supermarket;
- I was not so fit;
- I don't really like things that are really hard;
- L has no patience for things that take a long time.
I knew I was not ever going to be that mom. Why did I think I ever would be? That very night I met my husband at the car dealership and we got our second car.
Identity Crisis
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Adventures in Babysitting
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Cheap Trick
In our bag of tricks to entertain our lil ones we all have purchased $$$$ items to $ items. I have bought both but I am here to tell you about a low budget one. ALPHABET FLASH CARDS!
Monday, April 19, 2010
Mama knows best...or does she?
When my husband has her, and she is screaming at the top of her lungs, I of course jump to the conclusion that he has just been sitting there ignoring her cries.
"Did you try and burp her?"
"Of course, honey."
"Did you change her diaper?"
"Just did, honey"
"Did you feed her sitting upright?"
"Yes, I have done this before, honey."
"Did you keep her upright after eating?"
"This is not the first time I have done this, HONEY."
"How about walking around the room with her?"
"I just did that for 20 minutes..."
"Then give her to me"
I seem to think that I have the magic touch (and sometimes I actually do), but more often than not I can't do anything that daddy can't do, and peanut continues to be Fussy Pants McGee.
Rewind to the Monday after Easter weekend...
Location: Newport, RI...scene: Exterior of the Marble House Mansion. Characters: A mid-30s mixed race couple, Mama still holding on to "baby weight" has young baby on her chest in a Moby Wrap, dad is freakishly tall. They are joined by a woman in her mid-50s, who seems off the plane from Palm Beach and looks 10 years younger than she actually is (my mother :), and bears a striking resemblance to the aforementioned Mama with baby (but with a healthy glow). Also in tow is Mama's hipster brother in skinny jeans (another freakishly tall character) and hipster girlfriend in all black.
Baby was awakened from nap to be put in Moby Wrap. Baby starts to fuss as they enter the mansion. Due to the early morning arrival, the group of 5 1/2 are the only patrons in the entire home. Fussy baby becomes a crying baby. Key word: MARBLE [house]. Babies cries much louder than normal...MUCH louder. Mama shushes, sways, bounces, pats, swings and repeats, while trying to listen to her audio guide and continue on the tour. Baby is not buying it. Daddy takes a turn. Baby not buying what they are selling. Mama's turn again.
Mama is approached by woman that works there. "You know you can leave and come back later." Mom knows, but that isn't happening, "she will be fine, she is just tired."
"Are you sure she isn't hungry?" Marble House lady says. "No, she just ate two hours ago, she isn't hungry."
"Would you like me to show you the bathroom where you can take her to change her diaper?" says the Marble House lady. "I know where the bathroom is, thank you. And her diaper doesn't need to be changed"
"I think she might be hungry."
"Well, she isn't."
After 5 more minutes of making a scene, Mama exits with baby. Still crying. Diaper change (diaper was wet). Still crying. Walk around outside with baby out of Moby. Still crying. An exhausted Mama sits under a tree and as a last resort fixes a bottle. Bottle is inserted in babies mouth. Baby is finally happy. Mama's face turns red and hopes that Marble House lady can't see her where she is sitting.
I still don't think she was hungry...I think she just doesn't like Marble houses.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
On Strike
Monday brought the dreaded beginning of my work week and Baby C to Nana's house for the day. After a busy Monday morning, I all but forgot about our bottle troubles from the day before. Around noontime, I received another text from my husband, who checked in on Baby during lunch, "Still not taking the bottle, but she ate breakfast and lunch." Two days in a row of bottle rejection is atypical for my little milk guzzler. Every once in a while, Baby refuses a bottle but usually relents later in the day. Again, this meant no milk since the early morning. When I picked up Baby C later that afternoon, she burst into tears once again. As I struggled to get out the door and run home to nurse, my mother-in-law kindly mentioned, "She was happy all day until you came." Just what a worried mama needs to hear.
Tuesday brought more of the same: bottle rejection, shorter naps, grouchiness, tears upon pick up, and sprinting home to nurse Baby. When things go amiss with Baby, I typically do two things, neither of which are helpful or productive. First, I over analyze the situation and propose several made-up hypotheses, none of which come close to identifying the problem's root cause. Maybe Baby has an upset tummy. Or, maybe she is eating too much food during mealtime. Or, could it be that the milk flows too slowly from her bottles? Wait, maybe she is teething. Baby cannot tell me why she is unsettled, therefore I make up reason upon reason until something seems sensible. If hypotheses do not work, I turn to self-blame. If Baby is not happy, obviously, I have done something wrong. Maybe I ate something spicy that spoiled my breast milk. Maybe I've had too many Halls cough drops and they are affecting my milk. As I went to bed on Tuesday night, I feared an endless bottle strike which would lead me to resign from my job, stay home, and nurse Baby.
Wednesday arrived and Baby went to day care where she finally drank two bottles during the day, thereby ending her bottle strike.
While I still do not know the reason for the strike, I am thankful Baby finally gave up the fight.
Can't Live Without: Month Four of Motherhood
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Haikus to Amuse about Boobs (and other body parts)
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Can't be trusted when alone
There is so much talk about 'Pregnancy Brain'. But it makes sense - you are growing another being inside of you while trying to go about your daily routine - of course your focus is elsewhere! I had my fair share of forgetfulness throughout my 40 weeks, but it was nothing like the 'Mama Brain' that I am operating on these days - forgetfulness does not even come close.
I would say that at least once a day there is an incident (thankfully never to the detriment of my 21 week old), where my only excuse is 'I can't be trusted when alone'. And these incidents are only magnified when I recount them to my husband/he discovers them, when he was so used to my former Type A/on top of everything way of life.
A few highlights of the last 21 weeks?
1) Husband comes home from work and goes into kitchen drawer to grab a wine key ... hmm, what is my cell phone doing in there? NB: I had been home for the past 2 hours and didn't even know it was missing.
2) Husband flies in late from biz trip and finds my keys are still in the front door of our condo. NB: my keys are attached to my wallet (the result of another incident), clearly we have honest neighbors.
3) Making dinner and go into the freezer to take out the pine nuts. What is a lemon doing in there? NB: had been to the market earlier that day and was in a rush to unload the groceries when I got home. NB2: Freezing a lemon and then defrosting it, makes it juicer than putting it in the microwave!
4) On a morning stroll along the Charles with baby, when baby decides to boycott the stroll so we stop at the playground on the River to get out of the stroller and swing on the swings. Fast forward to 45 minutes later when we are exiting our neighborhood Starbucks, coffee in hand and momma can't find her vest ... yes, still at the playground. Thankfully, I think it is cardinal sin to steal from a playground, so it is still there when we return later that morning. NB: I have learned never to put very important things in an article of clothing that you can remove in public, the beta is too high!
5) Take the time to fill my wallet with quarters, in anticipation of parking at a meter spot in Brookline. Paying the lunch check hours later and wonder why my wallet is so heavy - ugh, forgot to pay the meter. NB: This incident actually helped me evade another incident when I needed those quarters (and nickels and dimes and pennies) to obtain a copy of my son's birth certificate from Cambridge City Hall - they are cash or check only!
I am sure, or at least I hope, that I am not the only Mama out there who has stories like this ... so share yours ... will make us all feel better!
Back to Work: A Survival Guide
by Guest Blogger Mama RK
As I recently mentioned to a few of my fellow new mom friends (and had been said to me before returning to work), often the anticipation of going back to work and leaving your baby is in many ways the hardest part of going back. It is certainly not the only hard part, but the idea of separating yourself from your baby—who you have to this point rarely been separated from—is hard. No matter what your situation, you can't imagine how either of you will survive the separation.
I am here to reassure you that you will both survive.
The first thing to know is that no matter who will be caring for your little munchkin, they will not replace you. Your baby will always prefer and love mama more than anyone else in the entire world. He will squeal when you come home. He will coo and smile and stare at you in awe.... it is amazing. So even if you are away, he won't forget. And generally, your baby will also adjust to your childcare provider—demonstrating excitement and ease when you transfer care and understanding the different roles you each play. It is amazing how a little person can adapt and understand this—sometimes even better than mom!
As you chose your child care, it can seem overwhelming. Everyone has an opinion (yes, this seems to be the common thread through all things of being a new mom!). You and your partner just have to trust your gut. Do what is right for you and your family. And do other mamas a favor; hold your judgment on how, where or why other families do other things. Choosing a child care provider is intensely personal, and chances are every person has their own doubts or reservations about the situation they have decided upon. There is no perfect situation.
As the big day gets closer…the impending d-day when you leave your baby for the first time to return to work, I have compiled a rant to help you through.
Part I: Allow yourself to feel sorry for yourself. Talk it out with your friends, your family, yourself (you can talk out loud to your baby). Get a manicure, a hair cut, a new outfit. Treat yourself to uninterrupted days with your baby, just enjoying each other. Layer it on thick for extra special attention from your family and friends who are able and willing to help you mentally and physically prepare for getting back out there. When you go back to work (to an office full of babies, if yours is anything like mine) you will likely be welcomed back like a hero. Bask in it. You will hear all the awful things that happened and didn’t happen while you were away, you will see how much everything is the same…nothing has changed. During your heroes welcome, you will also likely receive many praises about how skinny you look! Enjoy this too…don’t focus too much on the fact that the last time people saw you, you were probably the largest you’ve ever been in your life, so naturally you them you look skinny. Hey, and maybe you do look great, enjoy the compliments. Also, enjoy the slack people will initially grant you as a new mom. Have to leave early, no problem. Need to break away to pump, no problem. This doesn’t last too long, so enjoy it while it lasts—you’ve earned it.
Part II: Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Put your situation in perspective. According to the last census, 55% of mothers work out of the home, you are not the first, you will not be the last. Of these moms, many are returning to much more physically demanding jobs, possibly much sooner than you, and many to much less financial rewarding or mentally fulfilling.
Sure, sure, we all know someone who had a year off. Or who’s boss suggested they downgrade their hours, but keep their pay and benefits the same…but that is an urban legend. Keep focused on how lucky you were for all of the days you did have, and how fortunate you were.
When you start to cry, leaving your little baby, imagine this: there is a woman somewhere in the world that on this very same day is leaving their child in much less desirable circumstances than you, to a much more difficult and less fulfilling position. You are not alone.
Part III: Back to work. Your job is to do a good job. Good enough that no one notices or cares that you leave when you need to leave. Again, ease your way back (suggestion: do not return on a Monday). Let yourself go home early more often at the beginning. If it is slower, leave. If other people are out, leave. Do your job. And if make sure when you are not with your baby you are killing it--no one will say a word. But you have to set your expectations for everyone. No one will say, "oh don't schedule this meeting at 530 b/c YOU want to go home..." they will try to schedule it. But unless it is your Boss or someone super-senior to you, try to work around it. Don’t bother to say you want to see your baby... you can just say you can't do that time. do it enough, and people will get the drift. I make a point of getting in 30-45 mins earlier than I use to--sometimes even earlier b/c I know that I want to squeeze in as much as possible earlier than later. To miss bed time kills me. You just have to own your own time. Depending upon your industry, working late may have to happen periodically, but hopefully in a different way. For me, I walk out btw 5-530, and then if I am really busy, after I put my daughter to bed, I get back on my blackberry or computer until all the world is quiet. As much as your manager will allow, do what you can on your own schedule. You alone are the guardian of that schedule, guard your time as much as you can so that when truly urgent matters come up, you will feel okay about not being there for your baby.
I’m not going to say that now that my child is a year that it is easy, or that I have it down. In fact, I feel like a mess all day, every day. I haven’t figured out when I can exercise, cooking is something I can only manage 3 work days a week, I feel like an older, uglier and more irritated version of my former self most of the time, and I want to figure out how to be the mom that has it together. But my daughter is amazing, and for each kiss from her or new word I hear; I would be this yuckier version of myself indefinitely if it meant she would be safe and happy always.
I haven't met any moms who think any of this balancing is easy. Moms who stay home have different, also very difficult challenges. And every mom has guilt of some sort; I think it is the unwritten rule of motherhood. But the other unwritten rule is that everything your child does will be a million times more rewarding than anything else you have ever experienced, even if it is at 2 a.m. and you haven’t slept for more than 2 hours in a row for a week.