Monday, April 26, 2010

Crybaby

My name is Mama J, and I am a 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

At week twelve of her young life, my daughter decided to ditch the pacifier and opt for sucking on her hand. Fine by me! During these last 8 weeks, we have occasionally tried to shove a "peace maker," as we call them in our household, into her mouth when she is inconsolable and we are out of tricks. She would suck for a few seconds and then it would go flying across the room.

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

by Guest Blogger Mama A
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:
  1. Groceries are heavy;
  2. Heavy trailers are very hard to pull;
  3. The supermarket was downhill from my house, which means that my house was uphill from the supermarket;
  4. I was not so fit;
  5. I don't really like things that are really hard;
  6. L has no patience for things that take a long time.
We finally made it home. I did not feel fit, refreshed, in-touch and like a great mom at all. I felt sweaty and sore and tired and obviously not fit. I felt irritated and angry at all those damn hippie moms with their damn happy kids in trailers. Instead of feeling like a great mom, I felt lousy for making L endure a very long, uncomfortable bike trip packed in with the groceries in the hot trailer listening to me curse at the world.

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

Let me introduce myself. My name is Becky and I am a Shoeaholic. One look at the storage bins under my bed and I'm certain you will agree. My mother diagnosed my addiction at age twelve, when I graduated from Keds and entered the world of booties (which are actually back in style) and Mary Janes. In some circles, I am known as The Woman Who Wears Inappropriate Shoes to Work. Like many women, I love a good pair of shoes and can always justify a new pair. You may be wondering, "What does this ridiculous post have to do with babies?" The connection is imminent, I promise.

While pregnant, I watched myself outgrow every piece of clothing in my wardrobe, but my feet remained unchanged. This enabled me to wear my beloved shoes throughout pregnancy, even my three inch, knee-high boots (which also earned me the title of The Woman Who Wears Ridiculous, Unsafe Shoes While Pregnant). As my body became foreign, my shoes allowed me to cling to a little bit of style, a little bit of my pre-baby self. No matter how I felt or looked from the ankle up, my feet looked amazing!

Toward the end of pregnancy, I sadly stored my wedges, heels, and boots under the bed, in favor of flats, sneakers, and flip-flops. Since Baby's arrival, the ridiculous, unsafe shoes only come out of hiding for the occasional date night. Even worse, I have not purchased a new pair of shoes since before Baby. Eight months without a new pair of shoes is far too long for a Shoeaholic. On Tuesday, I relapsed.

On a quest for a new pair of sandals, I took Baby shoe shopping. Our first stop was Super Fashiony Shoes for Trendy, Young Things, where I shopped frequently in my pre-Baby days. After awkwardly pulling Baby's stroller through the doorway with one hand, I looked around at the stark white walls, the minimalist decor, the blinding florescent lights, and the very young women at the cash register. Feeling slightly out of place, I scanned the racks for that just right pair of sandals. Nothing seemed to work. The heels were too high. The colors were too bright. There were too many straps. I don't like zippers on sandals. What was my problem? I used to love this store. As I pretended to scrutinize a pair of gladiator sandals, I looked around again. Nobody in the store was over thirty years old (except for me). Nobody was wearing sneakers (except for me). And absolutely nobody had a baby (again, except for me). Now that I am a mother, does that mean I do not belong in the trendy shoe store? I certainly felt that way. As a twenty-two year old saleswoman approached us, I mumbled something about nap time and backpedaled toward the door.

There had to be a different place to buy sandals, I thought, as I pushed Baby around the shopping center. Around the corner I found a different shoe store, Practical, Sensible Loafers for Women of a Certain Age. The ambiance in this store was markedly different; warm paint and fake stones on the walls, an abundance of plants, and Enya wafting through the speakers. Amongst the Crocs and clogs, I found a pair of sandals I actually liked! They seemed comfortable, yet cute. Sensible, yet stylish. I was just about to try them on when I noticed the other patrons in the store. Most women were at least ten years older than my mother. Most had shortly cropped, white hair. And most wore cable knit sweaters with turtlenecks and corduroys, even on this seventy degree day. Oh My God! I was in an Old Lady Store! Again, I ran away from the saleswoman, this time mumbling something about missing rush hour traffic.

I stood defeated on the sidewalk outside. Where did this Shoeaholic belong? Clearly too old for one store, yet many decades too young for another left me at a crossroads. Does becoming a mother mean having to forgo fashion in favor of practicality? Does caring for a baby mean a woman must stop caring about her style? Do certain stores have an unwritten rule that reads, "No Shoes, No Shirts, No Babies, No Service"? Do I have more in common with the stately women in turtlenecks than the carefree women in mini shorts?

Empty handed, discouraged, and confused, Baby and I went home. Until I figure out where I belong, I am shopping online. And after I buy that sought after pair of sandals, this Shoeaholic is entering rehab.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Adventures in Babysitting

by Guest Blogger Mama Brooke

My husband and I really wanted to see Avatar. I'm not really a movie person but hype told us it was best to see it in the theater in all of its three dimensional glory. This, however, was not easy to manage considering we had a 6-week-old. But, we figured then was as good a time as any to try out our first babysitting experience. We live away from our families, so getting parents or In-laws to sit was not an option. We had a night nurse in the beginning (a luxury we couldn't afford, but didn't regret nonetheless), so we used her to babysit. I had already known her so it wasn't so traumatizing. Surprisingly, on our way out I didn't feel guilty, or sad.  I felt great. Why not? I deserve to get out once in awhile without the little munchkin. It doesn't mean I love my baby any less, but I think I felt a little guilty for not feeling guilty. 

Midway through the movie, while enjoying the psychedelic lights of planet Pandora, I was brought back to Earth when it dawned on me: Baby nurse did not have my phone number and I did not have hers! I had only been using her through an agency and that is how I had been booking her. So, in a moment of panic, I ran outside, took off my 3D glasses and called the agency for her number. I managed to get through to her no problem but lesson learned: Nothing can bring down the people of Pandora and being a mommy means I probably have to be more detail oriented.

After having graduated from the baby nurse agency, I decided I wanted to get a another babysitter that would be cheaper per hour (I didn't want to have to pay extra to the Nanny pimp). My friend, or otherwise known as my Sansei (she knows all things Baby) put an ad on the local nursing school list serve looking for babysitters. This is a brilliant idea and I recommend it to anyone looking to do the legwork themselves. I just let my Sansei do the legwork and I hired the woman she hired. In my first meeting with Sitter I thought she was nice but i didn't really connect with her. I figured, I don't need to connect with her, as long as she connects with Baby. She came a few times and I still didn't have a connection with her.  While I was trying to explain to her Baby's napping schedule, feeding schedule, and define Baby's different peeps and chirps, I realized if I do not connect with the Sitter why should I have her watch my baby. As laid back as I am in my life, I just can't be the same way in my daughters. So I let her go politely, and I feel so much better for it. 

I went back to the agency and boy am I laying down some bones for this Sitter. But, you know what, it's worth the peace of mind. Only now, I make sure she has my phone number and I have hers.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Cheap Trick

By guest blogger Mama Joy


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!

Now I do not have a prodigy child, yet, but she loves these flash cards! She has always taken to staring at a sign above her changing table that reads “Sweet Pea”, although for the location of where it hangs I consider it to read Sweet Pee.  One day I decided to take it down and show her. As I read over each letter she squealed with delight.  

The next time I visited Wal Mart (sorry I do shop there) I picked up a deck of alphabet flash cards. On one side there is the letter and on the other side there is a picture of an item representing the letter.  For example A = Apple.  After I change her stinky diaper I take out a few cards and review them with her. She will track the letter as I move it around and gets very excited as I repeat the letter over and over to her.  The picture gives her more visual stimulation that she loves to track as well. The cards are good for fine motor skills, as she has developed a knack for grabbing them She eventually throws them once she realizes that she actually has something in her hands.  

We have got language development, tracking, and fine motor skills  covered. What more could a 4 ½ month old want? Oh wait,  that would be more milk!! So all this for fun for 99 cents! Good times! Good times!! 

Monday, April 19, 2010

Mama knows best...or does she?

I am the type of person that thinks they are right all the time. About 90% of the time I am totally in the wrong, but it takes a lot for me to admit it. Call it foolish pride. When it comes to my baby, I think I know best...or like to think I know best, because I have been with her for almost every second of her life, save a few hours here and there when she is with daddy or my parents are in town and Mama and daddy get to have a date night (not often enough).


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

The strike began on Sunday. I left Baby C with Daddy for the afternoon while I sipped mimosas and ate chocolate cake at a friend's bridal shower. As I watched my friend open new wine glasses and flatware, I received a text from my husband, "Baby's a little grouchy. Drank an ounce of the bottle, then refused the rest. I will try again later." No big deal, I thought, as I ordered my second mimosa. About an hour and a half later, I headed home and called my husband en route. Baby C still refused her bottle, which meant no breast milk since 6:30 a.m. It was now almost 3:00. Fearing impending starvation, I pushed down a little bit harder on my accelerator. When I returned home, Baby immediately burst into tears. Before I removed my coat or set down my bag, I nursed Baby C on the couch. After eating, she seemed happy and the rest of our Sunday passed without incident.

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

A lot has changed in the last month of my daughter's life: we are now feeding her solely formula, she is awake more (which means she needs to be entertained now), she is growing like a weed (almost three times the size she was when we left the hospital), the weather is finally nice enough for us to be able to get out and take walks and we've been on many outings and trips with her in tow. This all means I have new products to share that I can't live with out!

1. Links: The simplest form of entertainment, these links (or inter-latching rings) are technically supposed to be used to suspend toys from the arm of the carseat, but I use them as a toy themselves...and baby girl LOVES them. Whether they are hung from the carseat bar, or just dangled in front of her face, she screams with delight whenever she sees them. She just learned to reach out and grab them - mama is so proud!!

2. Formula Dispenser: Now that we are part of the formula clan, this little bugger is a big part of our every day lives. It is always in my diaper bag, and we fill it up and bring it downstairs with us when we go to bed so we don't have to travel to the kitchen for the nighttime feeding.

3. Bottled Water from Costco: This may seem silly but for all of you formula parents out there, you MUST buy your bottled water from a wholesale shop (whether it be Costco, BJ's, etc.). For $4 you can get 6 gallon jugs of Poland Springs water...$4!!! That will buy you about 2 bottles of Aquafina water at any store.

4. The Miracle Blanket: The most aptly named product out there! Our little houdini baby could get herself out of any swaddle, and therefore was waking herself up during the night and naps. Enter the Miracle Blanket! This swaddle pins down your babies arms separate from the main swaddle action, making it impossible for them to move their arms while they sleep (I have one friend that claims her daughter can get out of it, but I will have to see it to believe it :). I truly believe it is because of this product that our daughter only gets up once in the night, and now for only 30 minutes. Since the day I bought it, she instantly started sleeping at least 8 hours straight every night.

5. Tiny Love Mobile: Along with the Miracle blanket, this product change our whole sleep routine for good. Before we would have to rock her to sleep, or hold her until she fell asleep, but ever since we got this mobile, we can just lay her down in the crib and she will look up in amazement at the animals circling around her and soon after fall asleep. The music is a nice mix of classical favorites, that for once actually sound like they are played on a piano.

6. Shutterfly: Ever since I had my first digital camera in 2000 I was a Kodak Gallery (or Ofoto for those old timers like me) girl. Then my best friend from high school (and the best photographer in the world) introduced me to Shutterfly, where you can make a simple webpage to share your photos. Peace out Ofoto!! Now I share my photos using my own "share site" as they call them, to which I upload all of my photos of the peanut, as well as videos. You can create a unique URL by adding your babies name before the ".shutterfly.com" address and your friends and family can check the site for updates at their leisure. You can also post the photo books that you create to the site, allowing people to purchase them at their convenience.

7. Eurobath: I didn't register for a bathtub because friends had told me that you could just put a towel down in the sink and be good to go. Well, my daughter is Squirmy Pants Maguillicuddy, and it was too stressful for me to keep protecting her head from the side of the sink (we also tried the sling in the sink, but you had to fill it up too high to actually cover her bum - and we tried it in the tub but it was too awkward). I was lucky enough to have a friend that wasn't using her tub anymore, so she lent me the Eurobath she used with her son. Thus started our nightly bath ritual on the kitchen island: a.k.a. my daughter's favorite time of the day. While the tub is rather large, it has this fabulous slanted part that she can lay back and relax in and I don't have to worry about her sliding down, or hitting her head on anything. I think maybe because she was born 4 weeks early she loves the bath more than anything in the world, but this bath tub sure helps too!

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Haikus to Amuse about Boobs (and other body parts)

Righty and lefty
What happened to you my friends?
Looking sad these days

Pancakes are for brunch
Not to be put in your bra
Pass the syrup please

Fun bags you say sir?
More like sad empty balloons
Thank God for push-up

Harry Potter scars
All over lower belly
Quidditch Anyone?

Elastic waist pants
You are my best frenemy
Should throw you in trash

Oh cottage cheese thighs
You went from lite to homestyle
I should hit the gym

Please share your own Haiku poems in the comments!!

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.

Friday, April 2, 2010

Playtex Drop-in Debacle!

We introduced formula to our daughter a few weeks ago, and after trying three difference kinds (while feeding her frozen breastmilk the majority of the day) we decided on Similac Sensitive RS. In order to see if it actually worked, and curbed her spit-up/reflux as advertised, we decided to just feed her the formula for a week and see how she reacts.

The first 3 days of our test were miserable. She seemed more agitated than normal, the feedings were longer as she struggled to take the formula down. She was still spitting up massive amounts of chunky fluid during and after each feeding - so much so that I was worried she wasn't keeping anything down.

And then one night my husband went to prepare a bottle in the kitchen. "When you put the water in here do you measure it on the side of the liner? Or the side of the bottle?" he asked.

(Now since day one we have been using Playtex drop-ins, per the advice our our lactation consultant. We have also used the Playtex Vent-Air bottles because I thought they looked cool, and happen to get a free one somewhere. Since we started using the formula though we have used the Drop-Ins solely as they are 8 ounces to the Vent-Airs 6, and were easy to mix the powder formula in. As for the actual liners, we have used Playtex brand, Target and most recent the generic brand at Rite-Aid that specifically say on the box "Use with Playtex Drop-In Bottles") Cut back to the conversation the other night...

"I use the numbers on the side of the bottle...and fill it up to the 6 with 3 scoops of formula...why do you ask?" I enquired.

"Because there are measurements on the side of the liners too, and they don't match up to the ones on the bottle," he said.

I rushed in to the kitchen (because I was baffled) and we did an experiment. We poured 6 ounces of bottled water into the Vent-Air bottles and then poured it back into the Drop-In bottles. What was 6 ounces of water in the Vent-Air was actually at the 8 ounce mark on the side of the Drop-In Bottle!!! The markings of the liners were actually correct, and the 6 ounces of water lined up with the 6 ounce mark...so it is the liner bottles that are incorrect. We then got out my liquid measuring cup in the kitchen and confirmed that the measurements on the outside of the bottle are indeed wrong.

So this entire time we had been giving her 3 scoops of formula with only 4 ounces of water, a concentrated mix of liquid, which was making her terribly uncomfortable. Ever since this revelation feedings have been significantly easier...I wouldn't say like night and day, but she does not struggle to take down the formula like she had those few days on the concentrated mix. She still spits up, but we have just come to grips with the fact she is a happy spitter.

So the moral of this tale is that if you are using Playtex Drop-In Bottle System, please do yourself a favor and measure the water outside the bottle to make sure you are using the correct water to powder ratio!!

Infantino Slingrider Recall


by Mama K

I received the SlingRider as a gift when my son was first born and I hated it because I thought I was going to suffocate the little guy. After using it once I bought a replacement sling and this old one just sat around collecting dust, of course I didn't keep the receipt!

Infantino has had a MAJOR recall on a few of their SlingRider Sling. They have made the return process super easy; it is outlined below with links
Click on the big PINK box that says "Click here for SlingRider Recall"
Click on USA
Click on Help me to determine my product was recalled
Once confirm click on the red CLICK HERE to return your product.
It tells you what part to cut off the Sling that has to be sent back, down at the bottom you can return that part of the sling at no cost to you and get something to replace it. As these products are running out they are giving other products as choices, the good ones are going fast!
Replacement Products:
Wrap & Tie Khaki/Modern w/Jittery Pal
You can print out a return slip toss it in an envelope and toss it in the mail, remember to keep a copy for your records of the documents you print and send back to Infantio too!
This was my first baby recall experience and fortunately they made it much easier than expected.