Desmond has always been a bit on the slow side of average on the milestone charts, with everything except growth (he's a BIGGUN'). I'm not calling my kid slow, he's just... deliberate. There, that sounds nice. And we've been very patient, I think. Despite the constant reminders from Random Internet Mommies proudly regaling the world wide web that their child walked at 9 months! Spoke in phrases at 1 year! Got their masters right after Kindergarten! And that's awesome. Brag away. I would/have/will too. It's every mom's right.
Des will [insert milestone here] eventually, because he always does. Just on his own time. So even if we have to remind ourselves sometimes, we sit back and enjoy him as he is on this very day, without worry or concern or fear of judgment. We've learned how fast it all goes. (Holy hell, have we.) And we know what a gigantic, life-altering adjustment it can be moving from one step to another. Breast milk to formula, liquids to solids, rolling over, crawling, smiling, laughing, talking... I count it as my own little blessing that I have a few extra breaths to relish each stage.
But... There IS one big milestone we have been on the edge of our seats waiting for... His first steps.
He has been strongly standing on his own for weeks. We can stand him up in the middle of any room and he'll just hang out, standing there like a tree. If he feels the need to move, he'll lower himself down to crawl away. When standing, his feet are glued to the ground. The whole lifting a knee and stepping one foot in front of the other... Meh, not his thing.
Des turned 15 months old on Friday. Again, a bit on the late side for not walking yet, depending on who you ask. But hey, that's fine! Take your time, little man! Heck, if you can put it off until after our upcoming travels, all the better. These milestones are always super accommodating like that, right?
Well...
Yesterday, I was in the kitchen and Tony yelled from the living room, "He just took 3 steps!!"
Of course, I dropped whatever dish I was washing and ran the hell in there. And... nothing. He would not repeat the performance for mommy, no matter how much we prodded.
"I swear, I stood him up in front of me and he walked right into my arms!"
"I believe you, honey. It just FREAKIN FIGURES I wasn't here to see it."
But I'm not bitter.
Because today I stood him in front of me and 3 separate times, he walked to me. The screech of glee that came out of me was like nothing I've ever heard. Each time he did it, I'd grab him and squeeze him and go "GOOD JOB OH MY GOD YOU ARE SO AWESOME BAYBEEEE!!"
This voice was foreign to me. I was possessed by complete joy and I could not contain myself.
And tonight, it happened again, this walking thing:
And despite my subdued voice at the end of the video saying "Good enough, buddy," I assure you I am beaming inside with that same possessed joy as earlier.
Once the novelty wears off, the screeching may be more in panicked terror as he takes a nosedive off the deck. But I'm relishing in the moment now.
It was a big day, Desi boy. I'll remember today forever.
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Partners and Pals
Tony and I are a good team. We've been together a long time. We're like a well-oiled machine in the habits of daily life, even prior to parenthood. And as non-routine occasions come up: traveling, late nights at work, health issues, etc., it takes very little planning and discussion to come up with a quick plan. We just kinda know how it goes. You do this, I'll do that, yup, go.
Parenting has tested the limits of our teamwork. But for the most part, it's been a pretty easy transition for Team Cawlamone. I feel a little douchey saying that. Like those women who pop back into shape immediately after childbirth and say, "What, like it's hard?"
We're not farting roses and love poems, but it just works with us, I don't know how.
It certainly helps that my husband is as present, hands-on, and eager a father as anyone can ask. I knew he would be that way, of course. It's just his nature. It's kinda like he's 100% dad and 25% mom. Which leaves me 75% mom. He's like Michael Jordan in his prime and I'm an aging Dennis Rodman picking up a rebound here and there, questionable hairstyles and all. He might disagree with this allocation. But that's how it feels to me sometimes... most times, really. Des and I are very lucky.
Maybe I take it for granted, but the strength of our team doesn't really hit home until one of us is out of commission. Most notably, Tony.
While Desmond is back to his old self (THANKFULLY), Tony has been hit by the same bug. Fever, chills, cough, cold, the works. It came on fast and hard, within a day he was out. He's been in bed most of Sunday, which is very unusual for him. Even when he's sick he usually pushes through, refusing to admit that anything can take him down. Unfortunately, this one got him good.
So I played the role of single mom today. I wanted to let Tony rest, so I took Des out on the town and we had such a fun day, but I am grateful this is only a temporary role. And I bow at the feet of all the full-time single parents out there. I don't know how you do it every day. You have some serious superpowers.
I can only hope this bug works itself through as quickly as it did with Des. And ya know... STAYS THE HELL AWAY FROM ME. Maybe wishful thinking. Zicam, do your thang please.
Get better quickly, babe. I'll hold us up until then. But our team is not the same without you.
*photo stolen from Jenny Frazier
**and p.s. read this week's article on The Patch.
Parenting has tested the limits of our teamwork. But for the most part, it's been a pretty easy transition for Team Cawlamone. I feel a little douchey saying that. Like those women who pop back into shape immediately after childbirth and say, "What, like it's hard?"
We're not farting roses and love poems, but it just works with us, I don't know how.
It certainly helps that my husband is as present, hands-on, and eager a father as anyone can ask. I knew he would be that way, of course. It's just his nature. It's kinda like he's 100% dad and 25% mom. Which leaves me 75% mom. He's like Michael Jordan in his prime and I'm an aging Dennis Rodman picking up a rebound here and there, questionable hairstyles and all. He might disagree with this allocation. But that's how it feels to me sometimes... most times, really. Des and I are very lucky.
Maybe I take it for granted, but the strength of our team doesn't really hit home until one of us is out of commission. Most notably, Tony.
While Desmond is back to his old self (THANKFULLY), Tony has been hit by the same bug. Fever, chills, cough, cold, the works. It came on fast and hard, within a day he was out. He's been in bed most of Sunday, which is very unusual for him. Even when he's sick he usually pushes through, refusing to admit that anything can take him down. Unfortunately, this one got him good.
So I played the role of single mom today. I wanted to let Tony rest, so I took Des out on the town and we had such a fun day, but I am grateful this is only a temporary role. And I bow at the feet of all the full-time single parents out there. I don't know how you do it every day. You have some serious superpowers.
I can only hope this bug works itself through as quickly as it did with Des. And ya know... STAYS THE HELL AWAY FROM ME. Maybe wishful thinking. Zicam, do your thang please.
Get better quickly, babe. I'll hold us up until then. But our team is not the same without you.
*photo stolen from Jenny Frazier
**and p.s. read this week's article on The Patch.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Water Works
I have always been a bit of a crier. Certain people in my life are rolling their eyes right now thinking, "a bit?"
Commercials, movies, songs, take your pick. If you see me in the greeting card aisle approach with caution. I'm probably holding my breath and swallowing down the lump in my throat. Oh and that Folgers Christmas commercial with the brother and sister... Gives me the creeps and makes me cry. A more common example, Toy Story 3. After watching that movie Tony left me sitting in a salty puddle on the couch, squeaking "Why Andy? Why did you have to grooow uup?"
Events in which it would be exceedingly appropriate to shed a tear, such as a funeral or dire emergency of some sort, what do I do? I cry AND I laugh. Hysterical, nervous, snorting laughter. I'm sorry! It's an anxiety-induced response that I can't control. In the times when I can't choke down the giggles, I can usually mask it as sobbing with a strategically placed hand or tissue over the mouth. But seriously, there are some underlying issues here. I should probably have that looked at.
Parenthood has made the crying at the drop of a hat so much worse. In the first 6 months it was biological. I was just crying out the hormones like they were toxins. But now that things have settled in that respect, I'm starting to get the message... This is just how it's going to be now.
When I watch 'Intervention' from here on out I'm going to bawl my eyes out as the parents beg and plead and pray for their grown, addicted children to seek help. On the Amazing Race the other night, a mom watched her deaf 20-something year old son struggle repeatedly with a challenge, told him "You can do this," and I couldn't keep it together. And forget the country music station. That shit can just go right to hell.
It's like all emotions have doubled. For 40 weeks I grew this other piece of me, this vulnerable beating heart, and now I just let it walk around, prone to whatever perils and passions the world has in store. And it's my job to protect him and guide him and sometimes, to sit back and watch him struggle. I don't know if I'm fit for this.
Okay. I can do this.
Now I get what all those tissues are about. My husband. Always looking for a deal and planning ahead.
Commercials, movies, songs, take your pick. If you see me in the greeting card aisle approach with caution. I'm probably holding my breath and swallowing down the lump in my throat. Oh and that Folgers Christmas commercial with the brother and sister... Gives me the creeps and makes me cry. A more common example, Toy Story 3. After watching that movie Tony left me sitting in a salty puddle on the couch, squeaking "Why Andy? Why did you have to grooow uup?"
Events in which it would be exceedingly appropriate to shed a tear, such as a funeral or dire emergency of some sort, what do I do? I cry AND I laugh. Hysterical, nervous, snorting laughter. I'm sorry! It's an anxiety-induced response that I can't control. In the times when I can't choke down the giggles, I can usually mask it as sobbing with a strategically placed hand or tissue over the mouth. But seriously, there are some underlying issues here. I should probably have that looked at.
Parenthood has made the crying at the drop of a hat so much worse. In the first 6 months it was biological. I was just crying out the hormones like they were toxins. But now that things have settled in that respect, I'm starting to get the message... This is just how it's going to be now.
When I watch 'Intervention' from here on out I'm going to bawl my eyes out as the parents beg and plead and pray for their grown, addicted children to seek help. On the Amazing Race the other night, a mom watched her deaf 20-something year old son struggle repeatedly with a challenge, told him "You can do this," and I couldn't keep it together. And forget the country music station. That shit can just go right to hell.
It's like all emotions have doubled. For 40 weeks I grew this other piece of me, this vulnerable beating heart, and now I just let it walk around, prone to whatever perils and passions the world has in store. And it's my job to protect him and guide him and sometimes, to sit back and watch him struggle. I don't know if I'm fit for this.
Okay. I can do this.
Now I get what all those tissues are about. My husband. Always looking for a deal and planning ahead.
Monday, March 14, 2011
The One Where I Talk About Boogers
Have I mentioned how brutal this cold season has been? Not so much for the adults in the household, but for the little one with the growing immune system.
It's always the same pattern. One week Desmond suffers through a disgusting cold, the next week he improves every day, has 2-3 days of seeming complete health, and then we'll hear a single cough in the night. The next morning, it's back to square one. The cold is usually the same too. It includes a cough that starts off dry and hacky and gradually gets more and more stuff behind it, until he's coughing up shrapnel. His face is swollen with congestion. And oh the snot. I could write a book about it. Dry green stuff, runny yellow stuff, the thin bubbles of mucus that inflate and then pop.
Wiping his nose is like trying to put a cat in a bathtub. There's flailing and screaming and pinning down of limbs. The mom and dad tag-team effort is the best way to go, with one person holding legs and arms and the other bracing the head and wiping. Obviously when it's just one of us this method is not possible. In that case we just kinda throw tissues in his general direction and hope for the best.
I used to be one of those people who found it off-putting to see a child out and about with a runny nose. Ha... haha. Oh sweet, naive me. Little did I know. To avoid that I'd either have to never leave the house or tape a folded tissue to his nostrils.
In all of our snot struggles, we have found one of the most vile and amazingly effective products out there. The NoseFrida:
Otherwise known as the SnotSucker
You literally suck your kid's boogers out with a tube. There's a filter in the middle so there's never any snot-to-mouth action. But still. It's a miracle I even purchased this without gagging. The reviews are amazing and we were desperate. And I could not be any happier that I pushed through the chunks in my throat and bought this thing.
It still takes a good wrangling to get him to sit still, but the process is quick and efficient. I'll admit it. I'm in love with the Snot Sucker.
I talk about it more in my latest column. Feel free to check it out.
It's always the same pattern. One week Desmond suffers through a disgusting cold, the next week he improves every day, has 2-3 days of seeming complete health, and then we'll hear a single cough in the night. The next morning, it's back to square one. The cold is usually the same too. It includes a cough that starts off dry and hacky and gradually gets more and more stuff behind it, until he's coughing up shrapnel. His face is swollen with congestion. And oh the snot. I could write a book about it. Dry green stuff, runny yellow stuff, the thin bubbles of mucus that inflate and then pop.
Wiping his nose is like trying to put a cat in a bathtub. There's flailing and screaming and pinning down of limbs. The mom and dad tag-team effort is the best way to go, with one person holding legs and arms and the other bracing the head and wiping. Obviously when it's just one of us this method is not possible. In that case we just kinda throw tissues in his general direction and hope for the best.
I used to be one of those people who found it off-putting to see a child out and about with a runny nose. Ha... haha. Oh sweet, naive me. Little did I know. To avoid that I'd either have to never leave the house or tape a folded tissue to his nostrils.
In all of our snot struggles, we have found one of the most vile and amazingly effective products out there. The NoseFrida:
Otherwise known as the SnotSucker
You literally suck your kid's boogers out with a tube. There's a filter in the middle so there's never any snot-to-mouth action. But still. It's a miracle I even purchased this without gagging. The reviews are amazing and we were desperate. And I could not be any happier that I pushed through the chunks in my throat and bought this thing.
It still takes a good wrangling to get him to sit still, but the process is quick and efficient. I'll admit it. I'm in love with the Snot Sucker.
I talk about it more in my latest column. Feel free to check it out.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Thing I Never Thought I'd Type
I just sent this update to Tony via instant message:
des ate his first booger
there was a big one on his cheek, i could see it when i went in to get him from his nap
but i couldn't wipe it right away cuz he was crying, so i just picked him up and rocked him for a bit
then when he lifted his head the boog was gone and there was something in his mouth
he had his 'new food face' on and then swallowed it before i could try to fish it out
then he drank all his milk
so i'll just count that as his snack
Life. It's wicked glamorous.
Checking out J.Crew, playing with necklaces, and eating shnoogs. What?
des ate his first booger
there was a big one on his cheek, i could see it when i went in to get him from his nap
but i couldn't wipe it right away cuz he was crying, so i just picked him up and rocked him for a bit
then when he lifted his head the boog was gone and there was something in his mouth
he had his 'new food face' on and then swallowed it before i could try to fish it out
then he drank all his milk
so i'll just count that as his snack
Life. It's wicked glamorous.
Checking out J.Crew, playing with necklaces, and eating shnoogs. What?
Monday, February 21, 2011
And There It Is
I knew it was coming. I dreaded the day. And now it's here. Karmic retribution for speaking publicly about Desmond's amazing ability to sleep. It's been 2+ weeks of zombie hell with no end in sight.
It started off as waking up earlier than usual. His typical 6am rise went to 5:45, then 5:30 (oh how I long for those days), 5... 4:45... 4:30. There were a couple mornings of 3:45 and even a 2am morning, just for shits 'n giggles. Up for the day! Let's play! And cry and babble and whine, and do ANYTHING but SLEEP.
We tried everything to get him to go back down. Rocking vs. soothing in the crib, milk vs. no bottle at all, crying it out vs. taking him in our bed. White noise, soft music, TV. Nothing. Worked. When he was up, he was up. And so were we.
Then he got yet another cold. I've lost count of how many colds he has had this winter. He kicks one and then another strain creeps up in a matter of days. The congestion makes it tough for him to be laying down for long periods. So his pattern lately is to go down at his usual time of 6:30pm, sleep soundly until 11:15pm, and then wake up like there was an alarm blasting in his crib. He'll fall asleep just fine in my arms, but if I put him down, no matter if he's awake or asleep or drowsy, he screams bloody murder.
I finally decided to just lay down and hold that heavy kid in our bed. And that's where he's been staying from 11:30 until the morning the past few days. Tony and I will pass him back and forth to try to give the other some rest. He wakes up every hour or so, giving us a little time to catch some z's. But restful, it is not.
Naps? Who knows. He could go down just fine, he could fight it with all his might. In those cases, it's usually a complete meltdown for all involved and then this:
I'm currently reading a book on this topic, because lord knows we're doing a hundred things wrong through this process. But I can't keep my eyes open long enough to get through a whole chapter.
I don't think we'll start any of the sleep training techniques until he's over this yucky cold. We're not totally heartless. But the mood around the house has been a little frosty. Tony and I are either totally silent or speaking in monosyllabic phrases. We're cordial to eachother on a good day. Sleep deprivation is a cruel mistress.
Goodnight everyone. Sigh...
It started off as waking up earlier than usual. His typical 6am rise went to 5:45, then 5:30 (oh how I long for those days), 5... 4:45... 4:30. There were a couple mornings of 3:45 and even a 2am morning, just for shits 'n giggles. Up for the day! Let's play! And cry and babble and whine, and do ANYTHING but SLEEP.
We tried everything to get him to go back down. Rocking vs. soothing in the crib, milk vs. no bottle at all, crying it out vs. taking him in our bed. White noise, soft music, TV. Nothing. Worked. When he was up, he was up. And so were we.
Then he got yet another cold. I've lost count of how many colds he has had this winter. He kicks one and then another strain creeps up in a matter of days. The congestion makes it tough for him to be laying down for long periods. So his pattern lately is to go down at his usual time of 6:30pm, sleep soundly until 11:15pm, and then wake up like there was an alarm blasting in his crib. He'll fall asleep just fine in my arms, but if I put him down, no matter if he's awake or asleep or drowsy, he screams bloody murder.
I finally decided to just lay down and hold that heavy kid in our bed. And that's where he's been staying from 11:30 until the morning the past few days. Tony and I will pass him back and forth to try to give the other some rest. He wakes up every hour or so, giving us a little time to catch some z's. But restful, it is not.
Naps? Who knows. He could go down just fine, he could fight it with all his might. In those cases, it's usually a complete meltdown for all involved and then this:
I'm currently reading a book on this topic, because lord knows we're doing a hundred things wrong through this process. But I can't keep my eyes open long enough to get through a whole chapter.
I don't think we'll start any of the sleep training techniques until he's over this yucky cold. We're not totally heartless. But the mood around the house has been a little frosty. Tony and I are either totally silent or speaking in monosyllabic phrases. We're cordial to eachother on a good day. Sleep deprivation is a cruel mistress.
Goodnight everyone. Sigh...
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
The Gift of Gab
If Tony wasn't around, this would be a very quiet house.
He talks a lot. To Des, to me, to the tv, on the phone. He sings songs, real and made up. Having lived together for 10 years, I'm certainly used to it and have never minded. It keeps me entertained.
Just lastnight, as I was doing the dishes and Tony was feeding Des, he said to nobody in particular, "Mmm, blueberries. Nature's... blueberry."
WHAT? I almost peed myself.
It must be a genetic thing because his sister is the same way. When she was our roommate I would hear her talking to the refridgerator as she prepared her lunch. It's fascinating to me, this gift of gab.
So far, Des seems to have taken on my traits when it comes to conversation and general disposition. He babbles a whole slew of syllables and screeches if the mood strikes him. But for the most part he's a pretty quiet kid. Calm and content. He has mastered The Serious Face. He's satisfied to listen and observe, and then he'll pipe in every once in a while with something exceedingly witty and intelligent. Yup, just like mom.
Taking him to stores and restaurants is an easy experience. He sits back and looks around most of the time, pointing at interesting things as if to show his approval. He never really says anything back when the waitresses say hi or tell him he's cute, but he will stare at them until they are out of plain sight. Creepy kid.
I bite my lip a little when I think that Desmond might be more like me in this area. Not that being quiet in itself is a negative thing. But I don't want him to feel shy or insecure, as I have felt in the past. I don't want him to think that he is anything less than the most amazing kid on the planet. Tony is the opposite of me... outgoing, charming, confident. He makes people feel comfortable. Sure he talks a lot, but people also go to him because they know he'll listen.
It's early yet. Des's personality is still forming and coming out in adorable snipits. I'm hoping that he will take on more of the friendly, outgoing personality traits of his father. If not through genetics, then just from exposure to things like "nature's blueberry."
Edited to add photographic evidence of The Serious Face:
photo stolen from Jaclyn S.
He talks a lot. To Des, to me, to the tv, on the phone. He sings songs, real and made up. Having lived together for 10 years, I'm certainly used to it and have never minded. It keeps me entertained.
Just lastnight, as I was doing the dishes and Tony was feeding Des, he said to nobody in particular, "Mmm, blueberries. Nature's... blueberry."
WHAT? I almost peed myself.
It must be a genetic thing because his sister is the same way. When she was our roommate I would hear her talking to the refridgerator as she prepared her lunch. It's fascinating to me, this gift of gab.
So far, Des seems to have taken on my traits when it comes to conversation and general disposition. He babbles a whole slew of syllables and screeches if the mood strikes him. But for the most part he's a pretty quiet kid. Calm and content. He has mastered The Serious Face. He's satisfied to listen and observe, and then he'll pipe in every once in a while with something exceedingly witty and intelligent. Yup, just like mom.
Taking him to stores and restaurants is an easy experience. He sits back and looks around most of the time, pointing at interesting things as if to show his approval. He never really says anything back when the waitresses say hi or tell him he's cute, but he will stare at them until they are out of plain sight. Creepy kid.
I bite my lip a little when I think that Desmond might be more like me in this area. Not that being quiet in itself is a negative thing. But I don't want him to feel shy or insecure, as I have felt in the past. I don't want him to think that he is anything less than the most amazing kid on the planet. Tony is the opposite of me... outgoing, charming, confident. He makes people feel comfortable. Sure he talks a lot, but people also go to him because they know he'll listen.
It's early yet. Des's personality is still forming and coming out in adorable snipits. I'm hoping that he will take on more of the friendly, outgoing personality traits of his father. If not through genetics, then just from exposure to things like "nature's blueberry."
Edited to add photographic evidence of The Serious Face:
photo stolen from Jaclyn S.
Monday, January 10, 2011
The Perils of Parenthood
It's happened a few times. Des will get overly excited or throw a frustrated fit, and fling his limbs all around as I'm holding him. Inevitably I catch a stray arm or foot to the face. It's the head that really gets ya. Oooh man. It doesn't even phase him, but I'm left with a face that is resonating like a gong.
The latest time it left a lasting impression.
Pardon the horrible lighting and nosehairs and fugliness.
Nothing like a nice punch to the face with a toddler skull to start the day. Just a little love tap for momma. Thanks buddy!
The latest time it left a lasting impression.
Pardon the horrible lighting and nosehairs and fugliness.
Nothing like a nice punch to the face with a toddler skull to start the day. Just a little love tap for momma. Thanks buddy!
Saturday, December 18, 2010
So This is Parenthood
Lastnight, myself dressed in a pretty purple dress and my handsome husband in a well-tailored suit, we attended my company's holiday party at an amazing venue in Boston. The food was delicious, the view was absolutely breath-taking, our table of friends were hilarious. We dined and drank and danced the night away. It was a memorable and classy affair.
Tonight is memorable in a much different way. I am in my robe as I type this because the clothes I was wearing are covered in baby puke. I'm used to the little smelly spit-ups after bottles. But this was waaaay different. Something far more evil.
Halfway through Desmond's pre-bedtime bottle he swatted it away. He sat up and there was a familiar gurgling sound... A sound I had heard for the first time a few hours earlier, right before he vomited every morsel of food he ate that day all over the kitchen table. The realization of what was about to happen only gave me enough time to shift him so that the projectiled puke did not hit my face and neck. But most everything else within a 3 foot radius of the rocking chair did not fair so well.
I stood there frozen, holding Des. Both of us covered, as was the area rug and wood floor in front of us. I called down to Tony.
"Everything alright?" he said.
"Umm... NO."
Remarkably, Des was totally fine after. I put him down on a clean square of the floor. And he crawled over to his toys, babbling away and leaving a trail of yuck in his wake.
Tony got to work on the floor and rocker. I stripped down to my underwear before I grabbed Des to change him. After I had already been half naked for 5 minutes, I noticed the orangey-pink goo dripping down my cleavage.
Lastnight I was sipping champagne at the top of the city. What a difference a day makes.
Des went to sleep just fine, as he normally does. We'll have the monitor on high alert tonight and keep an eye on him tomorrow. But we're hoping it's just a fluke tummy ache.
I can't get the smell of partially digested sweet potatoes and formula out of my nose. I'm off to go shower in bleach now.
Tonight is memorable in a much different way. I am in my robe as I type this because the clothes I was wearing are covered in baby puke. I'm used to the little smelly spit-ups after bottles. But this was waaaay different. Something far more evil.
Halfway through Desmond's pre-bedtime bottle he swatted it away. He sat up and there was a familiar gurgling sound... A sound I had heard for the first time a few hours earlier, right before he vomited every morsel of food he ate that day all over the kitchen table. The realization of what was about to happen only gave me enough time to shift him so that the projectiled puke did not hit my face and neck. But most everything else within a 3 foot radius of the rocking chair did not fair so well.
I stood there frozen, holding Des. Both of us covered, as was the area rug and wood floor in front of us. I called down to Tony.
"Everything alright?" he said.
"Umm... NO."
Remarkably, Des was totally fine after. I put him down on a clean square of the floor. And he crawled over to his toys, babbling away and leaving a trail of yuck in his wake.
Tony got to work on the floor and rocker. I stripped down to my underwear before I grabbed Des to change him. After I had already been half naked for 5 minutes, I noticed the orangey-pink goo dripping down my cleavage.
Lastnight I was sipping champagne at the top of the city. What a difference a day makes.
Des went to sleep just fine, as he normally does. We'll have the monitor on high alert tonight and keep an eye on him tomorrow. But we're hoping it's just a fluke tummy ache.
I can't get the smell of partially digested sweet potatoes and formula out of my nose. I'm off to go shower in bleach now.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
The Baby Monitor Chronicles
If Tony and I ever write a book about our experience as parents, that's what it will be called. Don't steal it! It's ours! Copyright Cawlamone.
My husband has gotten some flack from my side of the family for always having the baby monitor on him. We'll be at a family gathering and Des will be napping soundly upstairs or a couple rooms away, and Tony will have the cordless monitor hooked on to his pocket like a beeper. On high volume and vibrate mode. If conversation gets a little loud, he'll put it up to his ear and step out of the room.
My family has a lot of kids around. They figure if the kid is screaming, you don't need a monitor to hear that. This thing with Tony and the monitor.. it's funny to them.
It's not that I'm not the Concerned Parent. Honestly, if Tony wasn't around, I'd be the one with the monitor in my pocket. But since I know he's always there, listening, on his toes, ready to go, I get to sit back with a glass of wine. The baby monitor is kind of a metaphor for our relationship.
We never sprung for one o' dem fancy shmancy video monitors. I know myself. I know that if we had the capability to watch our son every second that he slept, I would sit and stare at that thing for hours. Make sure he was still breathing. Search for patterns in his movements. Call my mom when he rolled over, "Oh my god, it was sooo cute!"
No. Our monitor is actually a hand-me-down (shocker!), 5 years old or so, but it does the job just fine.
Tony, who's a bit of a nerd in case you haven't spent 5 minutes with him ever, recently set up a video monitor in Desmond's room that we happened to have lying around. I believe he bought it years ago when we were going on vacation and he wanted to keep an eye on his cats. Yes.. I married that guy.
So ten months into the parenting thing, we got the video monitor set up. It's really only useful during his morning nap, when the sunlight in his room is just so, because this thing does not show video in the dark. But in the few weeks we've been watching that one nap, we have learned so much.
Like, before Des goes to sleep he'll chat with his monkey friend while kicking his legs up in the air.
Much of the time he sleeps with his butt in the air:
No real surprise. I did that a lot a child. Still do. Don't judge me.
And he actually naps 5 or 10 minutes less than we ever realized. When he wakes up, he sits and and chills out for while, gathering his thoughts and recounting his dreams, then he makes a peep.
Oh, and he bites on the crib rails. I don't know how we missed the teeth marks, but we see them now.
All of this has made me realize... I want a real video monitor. It might be the worst idea ever. For both of us. Like, maybe we should think about taking a step back instead of sucking ourselves further into the vortex of Everything Desmond. But I got a taste and now I want more.
Santa?
Monday, November 8, 2010
Eating My Words
I knew that when I became a parent I'd have to eat my words from time to time.
Like how I said I'd never leave the house with a dirty kid. Well sometimes I'll wash Des's face after a meal and he looks just fine and clean inside the house, but then in the sunlight I notice a definite orange hue to his mouth and there's a crust of sweet potatoes around his nose. But he's already bundled up and strapped into the car seat and... oh eff it. Nobody's gonna notice. And if they do, frankly I just don't care.
Then I lick my thumb and rub his face. Yes, I really do that. It's a mommy cliche for a reason.
Oh and that time I said I'd never let my house look like it's a daycare center. And then this happened:
Sigh.
For what it's worth I never actually said these things out loud. But I thought them. So here I go, happily eating my thoughts. Tastes like chicken.
At least my baby's got a cell mate.
Like how I said I'd never leave the house with a dirty kid. Well sometimes I'll wash Des's face after a meal and he looks just fine and clean inside the house, but then in the sunlight I notice a definite orange hue to his mouth and there's a crust of sweet potatoes around his nose. But he's already bundled up and strapped into the car seat and... oh eff it. Nobody's gonna notice. And if they do, frankly I just don't care.
Then I lick my thumb and rub his face. Yes, I really do that. It's a mommy cliche for a reason.
Oh and that time I said I'd never let my house look like it's a daycare center. And then this happened:
Sigh.
For what it's worth I never actually said these things out loud. But I thought them. So here I go, happily eating my thoughts. Tastes like chicken.
At least my baby's got a cell mate.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
All Over the Place
People told us that once Des started crawling, overnight he would be all over the place. How true it is. Three days after he made his first forward movements, he was able to go from one side of the house to the other and back.
It's fascinating to watch. Maybe I'm setting him up for bad habits, but I've been letting him explore and try different things (short of eating garbage or touching a hot stove). He pulls books and DVDs off shelves, opens and closes cabinet doors, tears apart magazines, and chases the cats. It's a learning experience for me too... I have learned that we still have a lot more baby proofing to do.
These explorations are all fully supervised, of course. With camera at the ready.
The other day he made his way over to the entrance area, quite taken with the shoes over there.
Mama's brown boots. Cute!
It's fascinating to watch. Maybe I'm setting him up for bad habits, but I've been letting him explore and try different things (short of eating garbage or touching a hot stove). He pulls books and DVDs off shelves, opens and closes cabinet doors, tears apart magazines, and chases the cats. It's a learning experience for me too... I have learned that we still have a lot more baby proofing to do.
These explorations are all fully supervised, of course. With camera at the ready.
The other day he made his way over to the entrance area, quite taken with the shoes over there.
Mama's brown boots. Cute!
Delicious too.
An old pair of flats.
He was not as keen on these, I guess.
Remind me not to include these photos in my application for Mother of the Year.
Remind me not to include these photos in my application for Mother of the Year.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
The Early Days of Parenthood
Today I attended a baby shower for our dear friends Jeannie and Chris, who are expecting a baby boy in a matter of weeks. Their families were wonderful hosts and J+C raked in a ton of great stuff for baby.
It brought back a wave of memories and emotions for me. I remembered how I felt the day of my shower... Excited, uncomfortable, grateful, overwhelmed. I didn't realize that all those same emotions would multiply by eleventy billion once Des got here.
As a soon-to-be new parent, you get a TON of advice. Some solicited, some not. Inspired by Jeannie and Chris, these are some things that we learned along the way about the early days.
- Listen to advice, but don't take it as gospel (including this blog!). You have no idea how many times I heard, "Sleep when the baby sleeps!" Obviously sometimes you'll be sleeping when the baby is too. But many times, especially during the daylight hours, you will have to get shit done when the baby is sleeping. Don't freak out! Everything will be okay! Shocker, you're going to be sleep deprived. You will get through it.
- What works for some families, doesn't work for others. We were told by a close friend to sleep in shifts, or face rapid burn out. Sometimes this worked, but mostly both Tony and I would be up with the baby. Feedings, changings, rocking. Neither of us could sleep if the other was up. And this was fine for us. Tag team is just not how we work.
- Don't feel like you're offending someone by returning a gift, even/especially if it was on your registry. People swear by certain baby gear, but your baby might be all, "Oh hellllz no." EXCHANGE IT. There's always something else you'll need.
- If at any time someone asks if they can do anything to help, one word: FOOD. Gift certificates to local take-out joints, a variety of home cooked meals that freeze well, etc. You won't want to cook or go to the grocery store or leave that 10x10 area of your house for a while. You're gonna need some easy, healthy eats, especially if you're breastfeeding.
- Get some comfortable loungewear that also makes you feel human. Real clothes are out of the question. You'll still be healing and in some pain, and the baby will be spewing fluids left and right. Those ragged PJ's are cozy, but they'll get old after a while. I bought a couple pairs of stretchy yoga pants that are suitable to wear to bed as well as to Target if necessary.
- Take advantage of the hospital while you're there. The nurses encouraged us to keep the baby in our room. It was easier for feedings and it would get us all used to eachother. My older, wiser sisters WITH KIDS told us to send the baby to the nursery at least one night and do not feel guilty. We did the last night and by god, it was glorious. The nurse brought the baby in when he was hungry, and then back to the nursery after. Tony and I got like 5 solid hours of sleep. And we woke up refreshed and ready to take a baby home!
- I know people always say 'Enjoy every moment.' Debbie Downer's here to say, you will not enjoy every moment. It's not all magic and hugs and rainbows. Things might straight-up suck at times. But like I've said before, there's nothing like the light of a new day for a fresh perspective. Newborn cuddles are pretty great too.
Best of luck to Jeannie and Chris in this exciting time. I can say with absolute certainty that you guys will be amazing parents.
It brought back a wave of memories and emotions for me. I remembered how I felt the day of my shower... Excited, uncomfortable, grateful, overwhelmed. I didn't realize that all those same emotions would multiply by eleventy billion once Des got here.
As a soon-to-be new parent, you get a TON of advice. Some solicited, some not. Inspired by Jeannie and Chris, these are some things that we learned along the way about the early days.
- Listen to advice, but don't take it as gospel (including this blog!). You have no idea how many times I heard, "Sleep when the baby sleeps!" Obviously sometimes you'll be sleeping when the baby is too. But many times, especially during the daylight hours, you will have to get shit done when the baby is sleeping. Don't freak out! Everything will be okay! Shocker, you're going to be sleep deprived. You will get through it.
- What works for some families, doesn't work for others. We were told by a close friend to sleep in shifts, or face rapid burn out. Sometimes this worked, but mostly both Tony and I would be up with the baby. Feedings, changings, rocking. Neither of us could sleep if the other was up. And this was fine for us. Tag team is just not how we work.
- Don't feel like you're offending someone by returning a gift, even/especially if it was on your registry. People swear by certain baby gear, but your baby might be all, "Oh hellllz no." EXCHANGE IT. There's always something else you'll need.
- If at any time someone asks if they can do anything to help, one word: FOOD. Gift certificates to local take-out joints, a variety of home cooked meals that freeze well, etc. You won't want to cook or go to the grocery store or leave that 10x10 area of your house for a while. You're gonna need some easy, healthy eats, especially if you're breastfeeding.
- Get some comfortable loungewear that also makes you feel human. Real clothes are out of the question. You'll still be healing and in some pain, and the baby will be spewing fluids left and right. Those ragged PJ's are cozy, but they'll get old after a while. I bought a couple pairs of stretchy yoga pants that are suitable to wear to bed as well as to Target if necessary.
- Take advantage of the hospital while you're there. The nurses encouraged us to keep the baby in our room. It was easier for feedings and it would get us all used to eachother. My older, wiser sisters WITH KIDS told us to send the baby to the nursery at least one night and do not feel guilty. We did the last night and by god, it was glorious. The nurse brought the baby in when he was hungry, and then back to the nursery after. Tony and I got like 5 solid hours of sleep. And we woke up refreshed and ready to take a baby home!
- I know people always say 'Enjoy every moment.' Debbie Downer's here to say, you will not enjoy every moment. It's not all magic and hugs and rainbows. Things might straight-up suck at times. But like I've said before, there's nothing like the light of a new day for a fresh perspective. Newborn cuddles are pretty great too.
Best of luck to Jeannie and Chris in this exciting time. I can say with absolute certainty that you guys will be amazing parents.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Time Savers
Evie is my ultimate hero lately. If only I could stop time with my index fingers, the things I would do. Get the laundry done! Do dishes! Cook a proper meal! Maybe finish that novel I've been working on. Yes... defintely that.
Months, days, minutes seem to be slipping through my fingers like water. I can't catch my breath! POOF! My newborn baby, pink and slimy and screaming at the light of the outside world, is now 8... months... old.
Then:
Now:
Oh hello there, giant human boy. Could you help me with my novel?
In light of my recent frantic feelings of PANIC and DROWNING and slow everything down for a second PLEASE!! ... here are a few time saving tips I've learned along the way:
- Choose head-to-toe outfits for the week and iron on Sundays. This doesn't happen every week, but when it does, my mornings are a total breeze. Cuz I'm not running around figuring out which (clean) top can go with these (unwrinkled) slacks, and which shoes are the right height for all the running around I have to do, and my necklace. Where's my necklace? ('It's hard to live with a lie'.. obscure reference alert.)
- Do everything possible the night before. Make bottles for daycare, replenish the diaper bag. Make breakfast/lunch/snacks and have them ready to bring to work. Place laptop bag and purse at the door, keys and sunglasses out on console table.
When I start getting my toothbrush ready for the mornings by placing it on the bathroom counter with a dollop of Crest, I need to re-assess my life.
- Timed coffee maker. Get one. Just scoop the grounds and water into the machine the night before, Harry Potter swings by to wave his wand, and coffee is there when you wake up! Magic is awesome.
- Night showers. It's so much easier to bathe after the baby's asleep and the house is quiet. Much more difficult trying to squeeze in a shower in the morning after spotty sleep with a whole other person to get ready too. Plus I treat it as a relaxing time after a long day. Bathing as spa treatment. Life got weird.
- Try to do these things and any other tedious house work when the baby's sleeping. Easy for me to say with my champion sleeper, right? Hey, I said 'try.' And when he's awake, sit on the floor, make funny faces, and dance around the house. The dishes can wait.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Sleeping Like a Baby
Since Des was born, one of the first questions people ask is:
"How is he sleeping?"
"Is he a good sleeper?"
"Sleeping through the night yet?"
Literally it's either the first or second question, always. Apparently this is a may-jah concern in the parenting world. I get it, I really do.
And every time I reply, I bite my lip. Early on I hesitated to answer truthfully, for fear of jinxing it. When I did, I'd knock on wood, say a quick Hail Mary, throw imaginary salt over my shoulder. But it's almost 8 months in, and that fear is finally gone. Pretty much...
Here's the truth. Desmond is a fantastic sleeper.
There. I said it. And oh god, the coffee table is going to get a knuckle beating tonight.
He's been sleeping through the night consistently from about 10 or 12 weeks. Before that, he was up once a night for a feeding. And always around the same time.
He's predictable and easy to read. If he rubs his eyes, we put him down for a nap. If it's close to 7pm, it's bed time, and he's down for the night. Then he's up between 5 and 6am. The past 3 mornings he was up at 5:41am EXACTLY. He's a machine! I gave birth to a human alarm clock!
Sure, he has his tough days of 'fighting it' or not napping long enough. A few times he has woken up crying inconsolably. Nightmares, we presume. But thankfully, that's not often. We never did any sleep training. It just kinda happened. We are obviously just so amazingly awesome at this parenting thing. What, like it's hard?
I read and hear stories about babies not sleeping well the whole first year and beyond. I feel spoiled. I feel guilty. I wonder what we did to deserve such a luxury. And I fear the future, when the universe finally grabs me by the neck skin and slaps me in the face repeatedly. Maybe Des will decide he doesn't need to sleep through the night anymore. Or maybe we'll get it with the next child. Shudder.
I'm enjoying it now. Because god only knows what's going to happen after I post this. I am so scared. Universe? Please be kind.
Crappy camera phone photo. Still captures cuteness.
"How is he sleeping?"
"Is he a good sleeper?"
"Sleeping through the night yet?"
Literally it's either the first or second question, always. Apparently this is a may-jah concern in the parenting world. I get it, I really do.
And every time I reply, I bite my lip. Early on I hesitated to answer truthfully, for fear of jinxing it. When I did, I'd knock on wood, say a quick Hail Mary, throw imaginary salt over my shoulder. But it's almost 8 months in, and that fear is finally gone. Pretty much...
Here's the truth. Desmond is a fantastic sleeper.
There. I said it. And oh god, the coffee table is going to get a knuckle beating tonight.
He's been sleeping through the night consistently from about 10 or 12 weeks. Before that, he was up once a night for a feeding. And always around the same time.
He's predictable and easy to read. If he rubs his eyes, we put him down for a nap. If it's close to 7pm, it's bed time, and he's down for the night. Then he's up between 5 and 6am. The past 3 mornings he was up at 5:41am EXACTLY. He's a machine! I gave birth to a human alarm clock!
Sure, he has his tough days of 'fighting it' or not napping long enough. A few times he has woken up crying inconsolably. Nightmares, we presume. But thankfully, that's not often. We never did any sleep training. It just kinda happened. We are obviously just so amazingly awesome at this parenting thing. What, like it's hard?
I read and hear stories about babies not sleeping well the whole first year and beyond. I feel spoiled. I feel guilty. I wonder what we did to deserve such a luxury. And I fear the future, when the universe finally grabs me by the neck skin and slaps me in the face repeatedly. Maybe Des will decide he doesn't need to sleep through the night anymore. Or maybe we'll get it with the next child. Shudder.
I'm enjoying it now. Because god only knows what's going to happen after I post this. I am so scared. Universe? Please be kind.
Crappy camera phone photo. Still captures cuteness.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
The Adventures of Making Baby Food
I know, I know. Homemade baby food is just soooo trendy these days. Like cloth diapers, Sophie the giraffe, or :ahem: mommy blogs. But with the guilt-ridden recent end to breast feeding, I had to shove all those emotions into some kinda project. Preferably one that involves cost savings. You're welcome, dear frugal husband.
So hey, my baby may be drinking synthetic chemical poison powder (not reeeeally), but at least I can give him organic, locally grown fruits and vegetables pureed with love and kisses from Mama!
Step 1... Look online for help. Because the internet has all the answers! And I am utterly clueless! Many thanks to my baby food making bible: WholesomeBabyFood.com
Step 2... Dust off the food processor that is still in box and wrapped in plastic.
Step 3... Purchase the goods. I decided to start with peaches and pears. They seem easy enough and they supposedly aid in digestion. Des needs all the help he can get in that area, poor guy.
Step 4... Get to work!
All in all, it is a very easy process. Wash, peel, chop into cubes.
Firmer foods need to be steamed so they get soft. With softer foods like plums, mangos, avocados, there's no need. Then the cubes get pureed in the food processor until nice and creamy.
The mixture is then poured into ice cube trays for freezing. Once fully frozen, dump the cubes into a labeled ziplock bag and DONE.
Truthfully, if you're working with a lot of fruits at once, it can take a while. Lotsa peeling, chopping, steaming, pureeing, freezing, etc. You gotta clean the processor in between different fruits. But as a person who is decidedly UN-Martha-esque, I found it extremely easy. Fun and relaxing, even! Especially with a glass of wine and no breastmilk to worry about tainting.
Cheers!
*Let me end by saying, I am by no means against the store-bought jarred foods. In fact, we use them quite a bit. Sometimes it's just easier. Peas, for example, are a big PITA. You have to cook the heck out of them and there's the extra step of straining the skins, and you don't get much for the cost. Plus they make the whole house stink like feet. But Desmond loves them, so jarred peas it is! Among many other things when I get lazy.
**Also, let me really end with this conversation with my mom:
Me, feeling all proud: "So I've been making my own baby food."
Mom: "Oh cool! When you were little I used to mash up fruits and veggies and then put them in ice cube trays to store."
Me: "That's what the internet told me to do!"
Mom: "Well, how do you think they come up with that?"
Whenever I need to google something, I should really just call mom.
Oh wait, here's the end!
mmm...
So hey, my baby may be drinking synthetic chemical poison powder (not reeeeally), but at least I can give him organic, locally grown fruits and vegetables pureed with love and kisses from Mama!
Step 1... Look online for help. Because the internet has all the answers! And I am utterly clueless! Many thanks to my baby food making bible: WholesomeBabyFood.com
Step 2... Dust off the food processor that is still in box and wrapped in plastic.
Step 3... Purchase the goods. I decided to start with peaches and pears. They seem easy enough and they supposedly aid in digestion. Des needs all the help he can get in that area, poor guy.
Step 4... Get to work!
All in all, it is a very easy process. Wash, peel, chop into cubes.
Firmer foods need to be steamed so they get soft. With softer foods like plums, mangos, avocados, there's no need. Then the cubes get pureed in the food processor until nice and creamy.
The mixture is then poured into ice cube trays for freezing. Once fully frozen, dump the cubes into a labeled ziplock bag and DONE.
Truthfully, if you're working with a lot of fruits at once, it can take a while. Lotsa peeling, chopping, steaming, pureeing, freezing, etc. You gotta clean the processor in between different fruits. But as a person who is decidedly UN-Martha-esque, I found it extremely easy. Fun and relaxing, even! Especially with a glass of wine and no breastmilk to worry about tainting.
Cheers!
*Let me end by saying, I am by no means against the store-bought jarred foods. In fact, we use them quite a bit. Sometimes it's just easier. Peas, for example, are a big PITA. You have to cook the heck out of them and there's the extra step of straining the skins, and you don't get much for the cost. Plus they make the whole house stink like feet. But Desmond loves them, so jarred peas it is! Among many other things when I get lazy.
**Also, let me really end with this conversation with my mom:
Me, feeling all proud: "So I've been making my own baby food."
Mom: "Oh cool! When you were little I used to mash up fruits and veggies and then put them in ice cube trays to store."
Me: "That's what the internet told me to do!"
Mom: "Well, how do you think they come up with that?"
Whenever I need to google something, I should really just call mom.
Oh wait, here's the end!
mmm...
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
The Day Before
Six months ago from this moment, I sat in my cube at work and started thinking, "Hmm.. I wonder if something is going on. Maybe I'll start timing just in case."
I opened up a new email and typed the time. Then again a little bit later. In between work, chatting with coworkers, walking to and from the bathroom (hello trampoline bladder!), I'd jot the times of those somethings in the email. Again and again.
I still have it saved in my draft email folder at work. I refuse to delete it, but I don't know what to do with it. I open it up every once in a while, recalling that day and those moments.
In honor of The Day Before, here's the body of that email:
841
900
914
936
1000
1007
1023
1035
1053
1101
1109
1123
1132
1138
1155
1211
1222
1229
1237
1246
1253
100
125
132
139
151
159
214
234
240
252
307
313
320
331
345
To everyone else it's just a list of numbers. To me, it's anticipation, excitement, and having NO IDEA how much life would change so soon.
Like just before dawn after a long, exhausting night. There's nothing like the light of day that can change your entire perspective.
I opened up a new email and typed the time. Then again a little bit later. In between work, chatting with coworkers, walking to and from the bathroom (hello trampoline bladder!), I'd jot the times of those somethings in the email. Again and again.
I still have it saved in my draft email folder at work. I refuse to delete it, but I don't know what to do with it. I open it up every once in a while, recalling that day and those moments.
In honor of The Day Before, here's the body of that email:
841
900
914
936
1000
1007
1023
1035
1053
1101
1109
1123
1132
1138
1155
1211
1222
1229
1237
1246
1253
100
125
132
139
151
159
214
234
240
252
307
313
320
331
345
To everyone else it's just a list of numbers. To me, it's anticipation, excitement, and having NO IDEA how much life would change so soon.
Like just before dawn after a long, exhausting night. There's nothing like the light of day that can change your entire perspective.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
The End of Nursing
Like I've mentioned before, breastfeeding has been one of the hardest aspects of being a new mom. And almost 5 months in, it continues to be a struggle.
Des and I had a good little rhythm going for a while. It took 6-8 weeks to really get it down. But then it was easy and calm and loving. I grew to truly enjoy that private time we had together as mother and son. At 3 months, I had to go back to work. I was pumping at work and nursing mornings/evenings. Weekends I would nurse all day like before. But the change to our schedules threw our feeding routine off, and Des started refusing me.
One day I popped open my shirt, he looked at the breast (or "the buffet" as it used to be called), turned his head and screamed his head off. Then he tore out my heart and stomped on it. And punched me in the face with his tiny fist. Seriously, a more hurtful rejection I cannot imagine.
Oh, I know he didn't mean it. A bottle is just easier. The boob involves work and time and skill... He was having none of it. This is what is known as a nursing strike. It can happen for a lot of reasons. Ours was caused by the drastic change in schedule, more bottle feedings, and mouth pain from teething. A perfect anti-boob storm.
For two weeks we tried to get him to latch again, exclusively pumping (EPing, as it's called in certain mommy internet circles) and bottle-feeding breastmilk in the meantime. We researched and pulled out all the tricks to get him back on the breast. As the days went on I tried less and less. What was once such a sweet, special time had become frustrating and emotionally painful.
One day Tony came in with Des and said, "He's hungry, do you want to try?" I sighed heavily and thought for a few minutes. I finally said, "Okay. But if it doesn't work, this is it." I needed to not be in limbo anymore. If it wasn't going to work I needed to commit to EPing and be okay with that.
So we tried. And amazingly... he latched. :-)
HALLELUJAH! The heavens opened, angels sang, bells chimed. It was like the first time in the hospital all over again. Joyful tears and proud daddy looking on. He had a full feeding and a big burp after, with that sleepy, satisfied look on his face. I was so excited to be nursing again; I looked forward to every feeding.
Unfortunately, that only lasted about 3 days and he was back to refusing the breast. Sigh... This time it was for good. I couldn't go through it all again. He was still getting the milk he needed, just from a bottle instead of directly from the breast. Really, it's not the end of the world. But at the time, I was devastated. And a part of me still is.
Even more devastating, due to having to rely on the pump, my supply depleted. I was making a little more than half of his daily intake. We had a freezer stash of 250+ ounces of breastmilk. In a matter of weeks, it was gone. And a few days after he turned 4 months, we gave him his first bottle of formula. Daddy gave it to him and I cried in the next room. Such dramatics, I know.. But it really hurt that I couldn't provide my son with everything he needed. Still does.
It's not the ideal situation. But I'm proud to say we made it to 4 months on breastmilk alone. He's a big boy and he's growing so fast. He needs to eat A LOT and I just couldn't keep up. Now he's on about 60% breastmilk, 40% formula... ish. And we'll be starting solids very soon. Every step comes with challenges. We're doing the best we can along the way.
And as my mom always says, "All you can do is the best you can do." I say that to myself almost every day. I'll pass it along to Desmond too.
Des and I had a good little rhythm going for a while. It took 6-8 weeks to really get it down. But then it was easy and calm and loving. I grew to truly enjoy that private time we had together as mother and son. At 3 months, I had to go back to work. I was pumping at work and nursing mornings/evenings. Weekends I would nurse all day like before. But the change to our schedules threw our feeding routine off, and Des started refusing me.
One day I popped open my shirt, he looked at the breast (or "the buffet" as it used to be called), turned his head and screamed his head off. Then he tore out my heart and stomped on it. And punched me in the face with his tiny fist. Seriously, a more hurtful rejection I cannot imagine.
Oh, I know he didn't mean it. A bottle is just easier. The boob involves work and time and skill... He was having none of it. This is what is known as a nursing strike. It can happen for a lot of reasons. Ours was caused by the drastic change in schedule, more bottle feedings, and mouth pain from teething. A perfect anti-boob storm.
For two weeks we tried to get him to latch again, exclusively pumping (EPing, as it's called in certain mommy internet circles) and bottle-feeding breastmilk in the meantime. We researched and pulled out all the tricks to get him back on the breast. As the days went on I tried less and less. What was once such a sweet, special time had become frustrating and emotionally painful.
One day Tony came in with Des and said, "He's hungry, do you want to try?" I sighed heavily and thought for a few minutes. I finally said, "Okay. But if it doesn't work, this is it." I needed to not be in limbo anymore. If it wasn't going to work I needed to commit to EPing and be okay with that.
So we tried. And amazingly... he latched. :-)
HALLELUJAH! The heavens opened, angels sang, bells chimed. It was like the first time in the hospital all over again. Joyful tears and proud daddy looking on. He had a full feeding and a big burp after, with that sleepy, satisfied look on his face. I was so excited to be nursing again; I looked forward to every feeding.
Unfortunately, that only lasted about 3 days and he was back to refusing the breast. Sigh... This time it was for good. I couldn't go through it all again. He was still getting the milk he needed, just from a bottle instead of directly from the breast. Really, it's not the end of the world. But at the time, I was devastated. And a part of me still is.
Even more devastating, due to having to rely on the pump, my supply depleted. I was making a little more than half of his daily intake. We had a freezer stash of 250+ ounces of breastmilk. In a matter of weeks, it was gone. And a few days after he turned 4 months, we gave him his first bottle of formula. Daddy gave it to him and I cried in the next room. Such dramatics, I know.. But it really hurt that I couldn't provide my son with everything he needed. Still does.
It's not the ideal situation. But I'm proud to say we made it to 4 months on breastmilk alone. He's a big boy and he's growing so fast. He needs to eat A LOT and I just couldn't keep up. Now he's on about 60% breastmilk, 40% formula... ish. And we'll be starting solids very soon. Every step comes with challenges. We're doing the best we can along the way.
And as my mom always says, "All you can do is the best you can do." I say that to myself almost every day. I'll pass it along to Desmond too.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Back to Work
The countdown to my return to work has begun. 13 days. Time to face reality. EPIC SIGH...
Being a working mom was always the plan. Financially, it's a necessity right now. We have a mortgage, 2 vehicles, among the many other expenses that come with being homeowners and new parents. We also enjoy taking vacations every year, a lifestyle we would love to maintain. And aside from the financial needs, I just never pictured myself as a stay at home mom. The infinite patience and 24/7 nurturing that is required of that job are qualities I have always lacked, admittedly.
I don't know if I just never gave myself enough credit, or if I grew a whole new side to my personality over the past 11 weeks, or if I'm just feeling the standard guilt of a new mom returning to work... or all of the above? But now I want nothing more than to stay home with my son. When I consider any other option my heart aches, like a gaping hole in my chest that I have to cover with my hands or my whole self will be sucked down into it. (Dramatic, huh? Not nearly dramatic enough, to be honest.)
This was not the case at week 4 or 5. At that time, I would wake up each morning, look at Desmond anxiously and think, "I will do my best to keep you alive today." Survival mode. For both of us. And then I'd feed him a few times, he'd nap here and there, we'd go for a walk, and 'Wow it's 5:00 and daddy's home? We did it, Des! We are alive and fed and sorta clean and mostly sane!' Rinse and repeat.
Now I wake up each morning, look at Desi and think, "What are we gonna do today, best buddy? I know! Let's eat and take naps and maybe go for a walk!" On big days we go to Target or to the mall. There's a general simple routine. Yet every day is exciting and fun and happy. There is nothing I lack. My heart is full, overflowing even. And then daddy gets home and the day just gets better! Life is amazing.
Two more weeks of this. I will soak in every second.
Just as I've adjusted to Life As Mom, I will adjust to working again. It may take several weeks and many tears, but I'll get there. And I'll wake up each morning thinking, "Today I will do what's best for our family." I hope I can.
I helped make this guy. I can do anything.
Being a working mom was always the plan. Financially, it's a necessity right now. We have a mortgage, 2 vehicles, among the many other expenses that come with being homeowners and new parents. We also enjoy taking vacations every year, a lifestyle we would love to maintain. And aside from the financial needs, I just never pictured myself as a stay at home mom. The infinite patience and 24/7 nurturing that is required of that job are qualities I have always lacked, admittedly.
I don't know if I just never gave myself enough credit, or if I grew a whole new side to my personality over the past 11 weeks, or if I'm just feeling the standard guilt of a new mom returning to work... or all of the above? But now I want nothing more than to stay home with my son. When I consider any other option my heart aches, like a gaping hole in my chest that I have to cover with my hands or my whole self will be sucked down into it. (Dramatic, huh? Not nearly dramatic enough, to be honest.)
This was not the case at week 4 or 5. At that time, I would wake up each morning, look at Desmond anxiously and think, "I will do my best to keep you alive today." Survival mode. For both of us. And then I'd feed him a few times, he'd nap here and there, we'd go for a walk, and 'Wow it's 5:00 and daddy's home? We did it, Des! We are alive and fed and sorta clean and mostly sane!' Rinse and repeat.
Now I wake up each morning, look at Desi and think, "What are we gonna do today, best buddy? I know! Let's eat and take naps and maybe go for a walk!" On big days we go to Target or to the mall. There's a general simple routine. Yet every day is exciting and fun and happy. There is nothing I lack. My heart is full, overflowing even. And then daddy gets home and the day just gets better! Life is amazing.
Two more weeks of this. I will soak in every second.
Just as I've adjusted to Life As Mom, I will adjust to working again. It may take several weeks and many tears, but I'll get there. And I'll wake up each morning thinking, "Today I will do what's best for our family." I hope I can.
I helped make this guy. I can do anything.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Birthday and A Day in the Life
This past weekend was my 30th birthday party. The milestone of the big 3-0 was barely a blip on my radar. Years past have hit me much harder. I think with each passing year, age means less and less to me. The 20's were great, but I'm ready to bring on the 30's!
The party was such a fun time with friends and family... Tony, my sisters, and my mom went above and beyond (yet again!) with everything and it was great to let loose for the first time in... 10, 11 months? Wow, it's been a while. Let's just say that this weekend I learned the art of 'pump and dump.'
(This is a Tiffany necklace engraved with the letter "D" given to me by my mom and sisters. I nearly cried when I saw it.)
Desmond was a perfect gentleman, if sleeping through most of the party makes someone a gentleman. This was also a chance for him to meet a lot of new people, including all of my Braintree friends. Des is the first baby for my group of friends, so all my girls and guys were pretty fascinated by the "hot new accessory of 2010." I really hope they can see more of him, once I become less of a hermit.
Braintrees!
I was asked by a curious friend what a typical day is for us. Although as soon as it seems we have some semblance of a 'schedule' down, things change LIKETHAT. But I do try to keep some sort of a routine throughout the day. So here it is. These are VERY rough estimates, obviously:
6-7am: Wake up, feed baby
7am-8am: Daddy watches Des while Mommy takes a shower and gets dressed. Yes, I do try to bathe and put on "normal" clothes every day, as opposed to sweats, even though I rarely leave the house. It makes me feel human.
8am-9am: Daddy leaves for work, Mommy and Des make our way downstairs for the day
9am-10am: Feed baby, try to make some coffee and breakfast for myself. Usually Des is good enough to sit in his bouncy chair and just hang out while I eat and check the internets. But sometimes he's fussy and I have to hold him the whole time.
10am-12pm: Des will usually nap for a good hour or so, during which time I will try to put minimal make-up on (see above re: feeling human), wash dishes, do laundry, clean house, etc. Today I updated my blog!
12pm-1pm: Feed baby, try to feed self
1pm-2pm: TBD...
2pm-3pm: Des and I will both usually take an afternoon nap in our bed upstairs. This is one of my favorite parts of the day! Cuddles and coos and rest. Nothing better.
3pm-4pm: Feed baby, hang out and wait for Daddy to get home.
4pm-5pm: Daddy gets home! Commence hand-off. Tony misses the baby so much during the day, I barely see the kid for the next couple hours.
5pm-6pm: Mommy and Daddy try to get some food.
6pm-7pm: Feed baby, start thinking about heading upstairs for the night. I know, we are party animals.
7pm-9pm: Head upstairs, give baby a bath and get him into fresh PJs, hang out as a family before bedtime.
Throughout the day I am usually listening to Sirius sattelite radio... Howard Stern in the morning (sorry Mom!), Acoustic or Classical late-morning and early afternoon, Country late afternoon. Des and I like to dance to country. :-) I'll watch TV sometimes too, but daytime TV is pretty awful. Unless there's a Real Housewives marathon. Still awful, but so addicting.
In between naps and feedings and diaper changes Des and I do a lot of walking around the house, "playing" on his activity mat, and making noises back and forth to eachother. But his interactions are still pretty minimal at this point.
Des usually wakes up 2-3 times during the night for feedings... lately just 2, which has been nice. Tony gives him a bottle for one of those feedings so I can get a good stretch of rest. Because he is not sleeping through the night yet, he's still in his bassinet at the end of our bed. We talk about transitioning him to the crib in his room, but I am putting up a fight. I didn't think I would be so reluctant, but I seriously want to cry when I think about it! Which is ridiculous. His crib is literally 20 feet away in the next room.
How I am going to leave him at daycare for 8 hours a day in a few weeks is beyond comprehension.
It's amazing how quickly the days and weeks have flown. It may seem like a boring schedule to some, but this has been the most joyful and fulfilling time of my life.
Happy 7 weeks of age, my little one!
The party was such a fun time with friends and family... Tony, my sisters, and my mom went above and beyond (yet again!) with everything and it was great to let loose for the first time in... 10, 11 months? Wow, it's been a while. Let's just say that this weekend I learned the art of 'pump and dump.'
(This is a Tiffany necklace engraved with the letter "D" given to me by my mom and sisters. I nearly cried when I saw it.)
Desmond was a perfect gentleman, if sleeping through most of the party makes someone a gentleman. This was also a chance for him to meet a lot of new people, including all of my Braintree friends. Des is the first baby for my group of friends, so all my girls and guys were pretty fascinated by the "hot new accessory of 2010." I really hope they can see more of him, once I become less of a hermit.
Braintrees!
I was asked by a curious friend what a typical day is for us. Although as soon as it seems we have some semblance of a 'schedule' down, things change LIKETHAT. But I do try to keep some sort of a routine throughout the day. So here it is. These are VERY rough estimates, obviously:
6-7am: Wake up, feed baby
7am-8am: Daddy watches Des while Mommy takes a shower and gets dressed. Yes, I do try to bathe and put on "normal" clothes every day, as opposed to sweats, even though I rarely leave the house. It makes me feel human.
8am-9am: Daddy leaves for work, Mommy and Des make our way downstairs for the day
9am-10am: Feed baby, try to make some coffee and breakfast for myself. Usually Des is good enough to sit in his bouncy chair and just hang out while I eat and check the internets. But sometimes he's fussy and I have to hold him the whole time.
10am-12pm: Des will usually nap for a good hour or so, during which time I will try to put minimal make-up on (see above re: feeling human), wash dishes, do laundry, clean house, etc. Today I updated my blog!
12pm-1pm: Feed baby, try to feed self
1pm-2pm: TBD...
2pm-3pm: Des and I will both usually take an afternoon nap in our bed upstairs. This is one of my favorite parts of the day! Cuddles and coos and rest. Nothing better.
3pm-4pm: Feed baby, hang out and wait for Daddy to get home.
4pm-5pm: Daddy gets home! Commence hand-off. Tony misses the baby so much during the day, I barely see the kid for the next couple hours.
5pm-6pm: Mommy and Daddy try to get some food.
6pm-7pm: Feed baby, start thinking about heading upstairs for the night. I know, we are party animals.
7pm-9pm: Head upstairs, give baby a bath and get him into fresh PJs, hang out as a family before bedtime.
Throughout the day I am usually listening to Sirius sattelite radio... Howard Stern in the morning (sorry Mom!), Acoustic or Classical late-morning and early afternoon, Country late afternoon. Des and I like to dance to country. :-) I'll watch TV sometimes too, but daytime TV is pretty awful. Unless there's a Real Housewives marathon. Still awful, but so addicting.
In between naps and feedings and diaper changes Des and I do a lot of walking around the house, "playing" on his activity mat, and making noises back and forth to eachother. But his interactions are still pretty minimal at this point.
Des usually wakes up 2-3 times during the night for feedings... lately just 2, which has been nice. Tony gives him a bottle for one of those feedings so I can get a good stretch of rest. Because he is not sleeping through the night yet, he's still in his bassinet at the end of our bed. We talk about transitioning him to the crib in his room, but I am putting up a fight. I didn't think I would be so reluctant, but I seriously want to cry when I think about it! Which is ridiculous. His crib is literally 20 feet away in the next room.
How I am going to leave him at daycare for 8 hours a day in a few weeks is beyond comprehension.
It's amazing how quickly the days and weeks have flown. It may seem like a boring schedule to some, but this has been the most joyful and fulfilling time of my life.
Happy 7 weeks of age, my little one!
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