I Need A Manual

How in heaven's name did new mom's know what to do before the omniscient Google search?    I guess back then they had grandmothers and aunts and older sisters and midwives always at arms reach, which -- for the record -- I would give my left foot to have near me. But in lieu of that, I guess I am grateful for technological advances that shoot back applicable responses to my inquiry of "How much should my baby be eating?" and "Can I give my baby a hunk of apple?"    (The answer to the last question is yes, btw).  

Lately, Forrest is the most spastic nurser ever, and I've been worried he isn't getting enough breast milk. At 6 mo old, I know he should be getting the vast majority of his nutrients from me still and really only trying out these solid foods as "practice."  Well, he clearly thinks he's completely ready for a cheeseburger, fries, and large milkshake, and acts like nursing is a colossal inconvenience at best.    After all, it requires him to be still, which he detests.   He'll take approximately two swallows and then arch and twist until I sit him up and he can confirm the world is still as he left it.  Then its back down for two more swallows and repeat. 75 times. If I hold him real tight and try to keep his focus right in front of his face by waving my fingers or getting him to grasp my thumb, I may get 4 swallows for my efforts.  But that is interspersed with him beating the side of his body with his fist like a gorilla in heat.   Seriously, this kid.  

So for all the google responses that came back to me with something like: your child will let you know when he's had enough. And don't try to fit in that extra bit or one last swallow, because then you'll be promoting unhealthy eating habits and he'll probably grow up to be morbidly obese.... (ok, I added that last part, but it's all being said between the lines)   Have they taken into account the 10-second nurser that Forrest has become?   And if I let him "be done" when he wants to be, that he would get probably like 2 ounces of milk all day?

All that being said, this was a highly helpful site that did answer some of my questions: wholesomebabyfood.momtastic.com. But I still am a little worried that at 6 mo., Forrest is much more interested in food than milk.  How do I convince him that lying back, relaxing, and snuggling against his momma to nurse is not such a terrible thing?   At this rate, I'll be lucky to even get a high five in a year.... and I thought little boys loved snuggling their mommas....  

My baby is 6 months old

I can't believe it. Six months has literally flown by. Everyone says it does, but like so many other things in life, I really have to experience it myself before I believe them.  Well. It's true.   What stands out to me about the past half a year are as follows:

• Non-medicated LABOR.  Enough said.
• Scrunched up little legs while sleeping on your chest.   He never does that anymore. :(
• Pleading, pitiful prayers for just 10 more minutes of sleep
• Realizing I was actually looking forward to those quiet, peaceful nightly feedings, where I would just stare at him in awe and feel like my heart might break in two 
• His first milk-coma smiles I swore were real
• Poop. So much poop.
• The first time he threw his arm around my neck
• Little webbed toes
• His absolute lack of feeling any obligation to smile back at you 
• The tremble in his bottom lip just before he sticks it out
• The look on his face when he sees me peak over the crib
• Nighttime dancing squats
• Traveling by myself cross-country with a 4-mo old
• Nuzzling his neck
• His smell, which if I could bottle it up and sell it, I would make millions

Finslippy

So I don't do very often what good bloggers must do: read other blogs.  The realistic side of of me says that I don't have enough free time to just veg out on the couch and read other people's crazy rants (I only want people to do that to my blog), but then the other side of me just plain forgets that there are other really interesting/mildly special people out there writing kind of like I am.       Then, every once in a while, I randomly read all through my blog list (you should check it out too, cuz some are pretty amazing mildly special people talking about life) and then I get rejuvenated and think, yes!  I can do this too.    ("this" being blogging... Maybe that was obvious... Ok)

At any rate, Finslippy is a cool little blog simply because Alice Bradley makes me laugh and I feel like in another life we would have been BFF's over chai tea. Or maybe sushi. And I feel like she may raise her little one a little like we are going to -- basically just trying to not let him fall off the bed. Again.  (I cringed as I wrote that because its a true story. agh)  (Is cringed the past tense of cringe? It looks weird)

At any rate...again... I liked this part of her post a few weeks ago:

Okay, so: first mistake, one big basket. My second mistake was that I put all my work hours toward work that didn’t really speak to my talents. My corporate assignments could be completed by any reasonably smart person; they didn’t need my specific strengths. I was (gasp!) expendable. Which got me thinking, okay, where can I be invaluable? (Or more valuable?) And that led me back to this blog. This is a valuable platform for me. It gets me work. Also, and more importantly, I enjoy it. It’s what I do. It’s important to do what you love, if you have that luxury. I know many people don’t, and I certainly don’t always, but I do here. So: I am recommitting to the blog for selfish reasons, but I hope you don’t mind that. (Wait, does anyone blog for selfless reasons?) 

So maybe I'll try to do more of this blogging thing.  I like it, and I think it gives me a platform to practice writing and sharing stories: two things I love.  My audience (all 3 of you) may have to go through some real growing pains with me and for that I apologize profusely in advance.  But stick with me, and maybe I'll get it together and actually make sense sometimes.   And there is always that off chance this blog could help get me work.   Though I won't hold my breath for that one.

Making The Choice

Some say today's women can have it all: thriving kids, successful career, healthy marriage, clean house, a close circle of friends and still manage to get a pedicure every once in a while.   I'm only 5 months into this thing called motherhood, but I have to say, I call bullshit.   There are only 24 hours in the day, and even though 8 hours of sleep is a long-lost memory, I don't know how these superwomen do it all.  

If you can, (some of my best friends seem to be doing a hell of a good job at it) I give you props and then some.  But I am throwing in the towel on being able to "have it all" and with my stomach in knots, am saying goodbye to what once looked like a very promising career.  Today is my last day on the job.

For the past 3 months I've only worked part time, which I felt like I could balance well and still maintain my sanity.  What I didn't account for was having to pay a sitter more than I would end up making and being stuck in a position that did nothing to satisfy my aspirations but was all that made sense for the "part-time person."  I guess I'm young enough and naïve enough to not be ok with mediocre.  I only want great.    And I think my full time career could have been that. It could have been great.   But what I have now in Forrest is amazing, and if I can't do both, I wholeheartedly choose him.   It's just, well... I feel like a little part of me is dying today and if I start crying right here at my desk on my last day of my "career," I hope the world understands.  I've worked on my profession for over a decade, and I only worked on creating Forrest for 9 months.

I bet some people think I'm an awful woman right now...

There's a song out there with the lyrics, "In the blink of an eye; Seems like minutes as the years fly by... Afraid to stop because you can't stop time."   I know that Forrest will grow up so fast, and when it's all said and done, I don't think I will ever regret leaving a promising full time career behind to be present with him every day.  I am trading in business development meetings for play dates, pencil skirts for spit-up soaked t-shirts, and challenging DoD solicitations for Mother Goose and Curious George.  I am trading in a comfortable income and some nice discretionary spending for a real tightening of the proverbial belt. But I really feel like I'm doing the right thing. I want to be with him -- to be wholly present and to be... his.     It's just . . . I feel like I'm going through an identity crisis.

Today is my last day on the job.   And tomorrow I may cry a little for what is past, but then I will scoop my beautiful little boy up and cuddle him as if my life depends on it.  Because it might.

   

Thoughts from a traveling Mommy

Forrest and I just got home from an 8 day trip to San Diego and Tucson. I was beyond haggard by the time we landed back in Raleigh (and may have even shed a tear when I heard Bo's voice on the phone) BUT, it was a liberating adventure I'm so glad I did.  Here are my lessons learned for the next time:

• Traveling with an infant by yourself is challenging but doable. My independence concern is somewhat assuaged.
• What I thought was packing light definitely wasn't. For the next week long trip, we each only get 4 outfits and 3 pairs of shoes. (Well, ok, I get 5 outfits.)
• Forrest's toys need to be heavily rationed. Consider rationing diapers.
• Breast feeding still continues to be the easiest answer for hungry cries. The fact that sometimes it ends up happening in the middle of the outlet mall or in seat 8F next to the 25 yr. old navy Seaman who's never even held a baby, just has to be a part of life and not something to get self-conscious about.
• Its a great learning experience to have said Seaman hold Forrest for part of the flight. An added benefit is there is no room for him to drop the baby.
• Turns out, Forrest values socializing more than nap time... He can be so incredibly good with so little sleep until finally, he's not.
• Little baby ears seem to acclimate better and better with each flight. When they seem to be struggling, nurse. Those that may raise an eyebrow at you normally for nursing in such close proximity to total strangers, would much rather suffer through sitting next to a nursing mother than a screaming infant. Promise.
• When you are wobbling down the gangplank with overflowing bags, spastic child in arms, BOB stroller and car seat to break down and gate check at the bottom and someone offers to help-- for the love of God, accept.
• If you ever see similar situations in the future, for the love of all things holy, offer help.
• Unless you have the whole row to yourself, DO NOT sit in the window seat. When faced with their options, whoever is in the aisle will trade you.
• The flight stewardesses will love holding your baby while you go to the bathroom. Just make sure they aren't busy when you ask.
• Be absolutely sure you have enough diapers and extra clothes to recover from at least 3 massive blow-outs... in a row...
• And lastly, take lots of pictures and revel in every moment -- even those that were ugly on so many levels.  Each is a memory you will forever cherish.

 

TGIF

I was supposed to go to a girls' coffee/fellowship thing this morning. I was actually really looking forward to it all week and would have absolutely gotten my butt out of bed on my day off if Bo hadn't kept me up with our DIY Home Renovations (see last post) till after midnight and Forrest hadn't gotten me up approximately every 2 hours after that.   Finally at 7:30 am, I threw in the towel, brought him into our bed (I know, I know, I'm not supposed to do that) and admitted to myself I wasn't going to get up for coffee and fellowship like I probably should have.    

We had a glorious lazy morning in bed with our son (Bo didn't have to work today either - PURE gloriousness!) and then I made cottage cheese pancakes and now I sit here wondering what else I could possibly blog about than this relaxing, sun-filtered, hot-latte-in-hand Friday morning.  I realize no one else may care about my Friday morning, but this is my blog after all and it does say "a journal...of sorts."    So I don't even apologize.    Ok, fine... I do kinda feel bad.  Sorry to all those dutifully slaving away at "real" work right now.   I wish you could be here with me. I would even make you a latte.

My chunky monkey is snoozing away in his swing (remember, he hardly slept last night either), so I should take advantage of the glorious morning and get some weeding done. I keep holding my breath that maybe, just maybe, spring has arrived.  But then invariably we get a frost the next morning, so this is me not holding my breath any more.   Maybe my forced nonchalance will aid in holding the long tentacles of Winter at bay.

DIY Home Renovation

So our house has never been a "fixer upper," but for whatever reason construction projects have been a huge part of our home-owning experience since the beginning.  Maybe its because we have too much vision or maybe its a mark of Bo's OCD. Whatever the case, if we don't have 17 different on-going projects all in various stages of completion it's an off month.  Our current crisis looks something like this.... ok...exactly like this.

Once completed, the projects (so far) have all turned out beautifully ... ok, there have been a few exceptions- like our homemade mantel that never would stop dripping sap and a screened in porch that could double as a set in The Conjuring.   Still, by and large, we've been very proud of our mostly DIY home renovations.   In the midst of the madness it can be pretty overwhelming (our current mindset) but I guess even a crack of light at the end of the tunnel gives us enough oomph to push through.    Since I have no banister or railing on either my staircase or 12 foot tall balcony and no friends will come visit me until I do, we should get back to work.   Hopefully, I'll soon be able to post the "after" pictures.

Oh, and yes, that is a baby swing overlooking the "stain the railing" project. Forrest is becoming quite the supervisor.