Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts

Friday, December 24, 2010

Twas the night before Christmas...

It's Christmas Eve and the child and husband are all tucked snug in their beds... while I wait downstairs for Santa to come.  For some reason, I want this Christmas to be perfect for Jude.  I know that he won't remember much, if any, of it and the little details that I'm fretting about will go completely unnoticed, but here I am regardless, wishing I had spent more time making things perfect for Christmas morning.  It seems ridiculous, especially since I'm not a type A personality at all.  There very well may be a million things I'm doing wrong in regards to raising my son, but I at least want him to always feel that I made his Christmases special.  And what I've always found so special and wonderful about Christmas isn't the presents at all.  It's snuggling up on the couch Christmas morning with hot chocolate in warm jammies while It's A Wonderful Life is on the TV in the background.  It's the electricity of the anticipation of the holiday in the air wherever you go.  It's the time to cherish not everything you have, but everyone you have.  As a child, Christmas was always so magical for me and I want Jude to have the same wonder and awe of the season as I did and still do- even if I view things differently as an adult. 

Our little Christmas.  It isn't fancy or grand, but it's ours.


The tree...




Our first ornament after we got married... 


Santa is always watching....




Jude's art project at school gets prominently displayed...



Cookies and milk are out....





Now, we just wait for Santa....

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Thoughts on weaning

Well, we've started the process.  Jude will be one year old in less than two weeks and as much as I hate to admit this, it is time.  I always planned on breastfeeding until it was no longer mutually beneficial.  I was hoping to go 18 months, but it looks like Jude, my body, and my breasts have other plans.  He has been dropping feedings and my supply has plummeted.  I still produce enough, but just barely.  I am no longer responding to the pump and only get about two ounces a day at work.  I'm so tired of pumping and pumping and pumping and not getting much.  It's exhausting.  I thought long and hard about it and stopping at one year is the right thing to do.  I'm sick of spending 1-2 hours a day attached to the pump.  I'm tired of taking 5 pills of fenugreek and blessed thistle 3 times a day.  I'm tired of drinking gallons and gallons of water.  I'm tired from having spent approximately 100 hours in my work's lactation room listening to the whir whir whir of the pump.  I'm tired of constantly analyzing how much is left in my freezer stash versus my output for the day and doing the math in my head.  With all of these reasons, plus a few more I won't bore you with.....we're weaning.  I guess I always looked forward to the day I would start to stop breastfeeding and now I'm dreading it.  It's the pumping that I loathe, not the breastfeeding.  Another crappy thing about being a working mom- all of the stresses above are in addition to trying to maintain a good performance at work.  No wonder moms have supply issues when it comes to breastmilk just from the stress of it all!

Anyways, I dropped my pumping sessions at work from 3-4 a day to one.  I thought that when I did this, the engorgement would be unbearable and I would spend the day in extreme discomfort.  Nope.  If I didn't know any better, I would've thought I had been pumping all day.  It was like my body was just waiting for any excuse to stop.  I'm actually very sad writing this and I know I'm doing a poor job of forming my thoughts into words.  It's amazing what you find most important once you're a mother.  I'm going to miss that bond so much.  I'm so glad we stuck with it for as long as we did.  I know that we are ready to do this and Jude seems to be perfectly fine with it.  It's me who is having the difficult time.  I know that with weaning comes a crazy hormone drop which can cause the blues, so I'm thinking quite a bit of the sadness may have to do with this.  We had a good run and the only regret that I do have is not investing in a deep freezer.  By the time I went back to work, I had around 300 oz of breastmilk frozen and pretty much stopped any extra pumping because I didn't have room for it.  In retrospect, I should've invested the $200 in a deep freeze and kept on pumping.  I will keep this in mind for the next baby for sure, if we are so lucky.

Here we go, the beginning of the end of this chapter....

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

If I were to be graded in Juggling, I would get an F.

Gosh, I'm usually pretty good about keeping this blog updated, but I've gone a week without a post!  No, I haven't been lost in a pile of dirty cloth diapers (it's going REALLY well, by the way).  Things have just been insane.  I have a feeling this post is going to be a bit raw.  It's been so hard for me to juggle everything.  Lately I've been fantasizing about being a stay at home mom.  I love my job, truly.  It pays really well and I enjoy what I do.  But a full time career plus being a mother seriously leaves me no time to do anything else.  Nothing.  It's near impossible to keep up with the housework for some reason.  Yet, I see that other moms who work have no problems.  It makes me start to feel like there is something wrong with me.  I rarely cook, thank goodness my husband LOVES to cook and prefers it, because I don't have time to do it.  By the time I get home, 100% of my attention is on Jude for 2 or 3 hours before he goes to bed between 7:30 and 8.  Then, I do just the basic things like loading the dishwasher from dinner, doing some laundry, etc. at which point I am exhausted.  Then I usually have some sort of project that needs to be worked on (like this week, writing and addressing invitations to 150 people for my in-laws 25th anniversary party). Okay, so what about the weekends?  Excellent question.  Phil is usually doing something for his 80+ hour a week career (which I wouldn't change- he is SO awesome at his job and LOVES it), so having him watch Jude while I do something like scrub the floors is impossible on most weekends, especially in the summertime when his industry goes insane.  My son will MAYBE take a 45-60 minute nap in the mornings and a 30 minute nap in the afternoons.  I guess I just don't know how to do the deep cleaning stuff like washing windows, shampooing carpets, scrubbing floors, organizing closets, cleaning out basement storage, gardening....and the list goes on and on.  How do working moms DO all this stuff???  I guess the only option I have is to use vacation time from work while Jude is at daycare.  But then that is more time I will not get with my little boy.  I'm left wondering if I'm too attached to get things done when Jude is with me.  Have a created the baby who refuses to be left in an exersaucer to watch while I'm doing things?  I know I have a bright, inquisitive baby who wants to be a part of everything, but sometimes I feel like it's because I wore him nonstop and coslept with him and allowed him to be a part of all mundane tasks that now it has to be that way forever.

 I know I'm just rambling at this point and I am not blaming the way we parent exactly.  I'm just envious of all my mom friends both in real life and in the blogosphere that seem to be perfect.  Moms who bring home a great salary, cook, clean, and entertain while maintaining the perfect body, wearing makeup, always looking beautiful, and giving their husbands just as much attention as their children.  I feel like the only part of that I even come close to is the great job and nothing else.  I feel frumpy, chubby, disorganized, unkempt and frazzled.  I need to stop complaining and just try harder, but that's easier said than done- especially when I don't even know where to begin.

Part of why I just don't feel good enough has to do with the fact that I can honestly say my mother is damn near perfect.  Growing up raising two kids two years apart, she did it all: crazy fulltime career with insane hours and a husband who traveled two weeks out of every month on average, a perfect house- PERFECT, running us kids around to all of our extra curricular activities (if you knew me in gradeschool and highschool, I seriously danced for 6 hours a day, 6 days a week, nuts), and never forgot one single permission slip, dress down day at school, soccer practice, lunch money, nada.  Most days, I'm lucky if I don't forget my breastpump or purse, let alone remember anything else.

I know I'll figure it out and maybe just try to convince myself that perception isn't always reality (but this is hard when I SEE my other mom friends doing it all).  I can do this.  I can. 

Right?

Friday, May 7, 2010

What kind of mom are you?

I was thinking the other day about all the planning that goes on once you find out you are having a baby. If you had asked me to describe the sort of mother I planned on being before Jude got here, the following description would probably sum it up best: Stroller walking, disposable diaper using, crib sleeping, breastfeeding for up to 6 months at the most, caffeine drinking, still maintaining somewhat of a social calendar, working mama. It wasn't a conscious thing, I didn't research anything, yet, I think I'm the complete opposite of all of that and it all just happened naturally.



Stroller: I will say we use it now more than we ever have previously. For at least the first 6 months, Jude was one of those babies that didn’t want to be put down. At all. End of the world to be out of my (or anyone’s arms). I’ve heard all my life that carrying a baby around too much will “spoil” him and I guess I believed that. But, once he was here and in my arms, I knew that this couldn’t be true. How can you spoil a child by holding him close to your heart rather than constantly at a distance? Why did holding him feel so much more natural to me than putting him in a stroller or playpen while I went about my business? In my gut, I felt that this wasn’t true in regards to Jude. So I held him. All the time. I invested in wraps and slings to help lessen the load, but for the first 6-8 months, he was attached to me (literally) constantly. And it WORKED! Jude loved being strapped to me or Phil all the time. He was always happy and smiling and content. Whether I was loading the dishwasher, shopping for groceries, or taking a walk around the block, it was good to be Jude. Once Jude learned to crawl a couple of months ago, it felt as though our babywearing chapter started to close just a little bit. I still pop him in a sling when he is having a clingy moment or I just need to carry him somewhere since he can’t walk yet. But with the crawling milestone, it is as if he is happy with a little independence and loves to explore his surroundings while not attached to me (though he prefers to have me within eyesight). So in our experience, babywearing Jude constantly in the beginning helped him to trust that the world was not a scary place as long as he was in mom or dad’s arms. I feel he took that experience and is now anxious to touch and see and hear the happenings going on around him. Maybe the opposite is true for other babies, I guess we’ll find out if/when we have another!


Disposable Diapers: I’ll admit I’m still on the fence about this one. We use gDiapers when not at daycare and Pampers for daycare. Before Jude, I thought cloth diapering meant squares of cloth with big ole diaper pins. Um, no. Cloth diapers now are pretty much the coolest things ever. And what’s cuter than a big fluffy cloth diapered baby butt? Um, nothing! Anyways, since this whole Pampers-causes-chemical-burns-and-rashes-on-babies-investigation, I’m really wondering why the hell I’m not asking more questions as to what is IN disposables? I don’t know, the whole thing makes me nervous. I’ve ordered the cloth diaper trial from Jillian’s Drawers and I’m sure I’ll be posting about our cloth diapering adventures soon! I’m kind of excited!


Cribs: Babies sleep in cribs, right? That’s what they do. There aren’t any other options. At least that’s what I thought before I got pregnant. When we started to get the nursery all set up, I was adamant about getting the perfect crib. And we found it, all right. It was beautiful and everything I imagined. Majestic and dark wood and perfection. So we bought it, took it home, and got it (after much cursing on my husband’s part) set up. That’s when I got uneasy. The nursery is the sitting room off of our master bedroom, and therefore, it was ideal. Jude would be sleeping literally ten feet away from me. I wouldn’t even need a monitor at night since I would hear him cry. As his due date approached, I started to feel more and more uncomfortable with him sleeping in another room, but pushed those thoughts aside. Then, the little mister was here, we brought him home, and it was bedtime. What if he stopped breathing? What if someone broke in his window and we were sleeping so heavily we didn’t even hear and they STOLE him? What if the cat somehow opens his door and decides to sleep right on his face? (Hey, when you’re post-partum and experiencing a severe hormonal fluctuation, ANY scenario you come up with in your head is totally plausible!) So, we set the pack and play up right next to the bed on my side, inches from me. The Mama Bear instincts in me woke up at even the slightest sound or movement he made. Jude was also the baby that was up pretty much every hour for the first four months, then every 2-3 hours for the two months after that. So bedding close to each other made things a lot easier. When Jude wanted to eat, I would just pull him in bed with me and doze while he nursed. We are now to the point where we realized that Jude sleeps better for the first half of the night in his crib. So, after about 8 months of non-use, we are now using the crib! Jude goes to bed for the first half of the night and wakes up around 1 am. I go in to his nursery, where I see him standing up in his crib with his arms outstretched for me. I grab him and take him in to our bed for the other half of the night. We have plans to stop the semi-cosleeping before 18 months. I just really love it. As a working mom, I cherish every second I can spend with him- even if it is sleeping. There really is nothing like a chubby finger stroking my face or a warm little arm encircling my neck in the middle of the night.


Breastfeeding: “Breast is best” is the classic mantra one hears constantly while preparing for baby. With that knowledge, I knew I wanted to breastfeed. I figured I would give it my best shot and if it worked out, great! I planned on weaning around six months and then going to formula, thinking it would be much more convenient at that time. I’ll be honest, the first four weeks of breastfeeding were pure hell. We had latch issues you wouldn’t believe. He would get frustrated, I would cry. I would get frustrated, he would cry. My nipples were cracking, splitting, bleeding. Everytime he latched, I felt razor blades. How could something so natural be anything but?? But with the difficulty came a sense of intense determination. We were going to get this and we weren’t going to let each other give up. So I talked to a lactation consultant and went to La Leche League meetings. Then, it clicked. I’ll never forget the nursing session that changed it all. He latched on and started audibly gulping. Wait, I didn’t feel like my nipple was being sawed off! Oh my gosh, did I just feel my milk letting down? Am I experiencing that euphoria that comes with the rush of oxytocin with the letdown? Is that my baby all blissed out and drowsy? Is that actually milk pooling out of his mouth? EUREEKA!!! From then on, I was hooked on nursing. We were a great team and there was NO WAY I was quitting at six months after all this hard work. So we kept plugging away and here we are, almost eleven months later and still going strong. My supply has really plummeted lately, but he’s also nursing less as he takes in more solids. In about six weeks, we’ll start whole milk. I’m sure I’ll be obsessing over this next chapter very soon, so stay tuned.  (Oh yeah, the caffeine part ties in here too. Before I was pregnant, I would seriously knock back like 5 diet sodas a day-gross. Once I was pregnant, I would have a Coke or so a day. I pretty much quit caffeine shortly after having Jude since I thought it might have something to do with his sleep issues. Unfortunately, it didn’t help. But I still stopped it. I’m slowly adding a coffee to my diet in the mornings now that Jude isn’t nursing as much. God, that stuff rocks.)


Social calendar: None to speak of. I’ll touch briefly on this, but I feel the need to address it in a post of its own someday soon. I am horrible at balancing “me” time with motherhood. I think if I were a stay at home mom I would be much better about this. Since I work 40+ hours a week, I CRAVE time with my baby. If I have to spend extra time away from him, I am overwhelmed with guilt. Big time. How can I be away from my baby 8 hours a day and then tack on another few hours? This pretty much rules out any dates with my husband. We’ve gone on a couple, but nothing extravagant like spending a whole night away from him. Recently, I’ve gone out with girlfriends for dinner and drinks, but only after Jude goes to bed and I’m home before his first night waking. This is something I need to work on, although I’m not quite sure how I can get over the guilt I carry around with me that daycare spends more time with my son during the week than I do.


So there it is. I’m pretty much a complete oxymoron of the mom I thought I was going to be. The “stroller walking, disposable diaper using, crib sleeping, breastfeeding for up to 6 months at the most, caffeine drinking, still maintaining somewhat of a social calendar, working mama” in my head became the “babywearing, maybe cloth diapering, semi-cosleeping, extended breastfeeding, non-caffeine drinking, no social calendar to speak of working mama” instead.


I suppose there are a few morals to this post I’m probably failing at getting across. The first is that you really can’t plan what kind of mom you’ll be ahead of time. The second time is that it’s never okay to judge someone else’s parenting choices since there are reasons behind those choices that you just can’t know. We all do what is best for our babies since each baby is such a beautiful individual. And that, my friends, is what makes parenthood so truly incredible.

Monday, May 3, 2010

Nature vs Nurture

Before I had a baby, I always thought that most of the reasons why girls were the way they were and boys were the way they were was because parents and society molded them to be that way, teaching them how they are supposed to be.  Now that I'm a parent, I'm constantly noticing this isn't so.  It is so apparent, even as a baby, that men are from Mars and women are from Venus.  For example:

I walked into daycare to pick Jude up a couple of weeks ago.  As I was filling out the sheet stating what time I picked him up, I heard the unmistakable sound of plastic banging loudly on plastic.  As I approached the door to the infant room, the noise grew louder.  I got to the doorway and saw four girls roughly around Jude's age all sitting quietly close to one another.  One was gazing at a book and turning the pages, two were softly cooing to each other, and the other was twiddling the ear of a stuffed animal.  I did a quick scan of the room searching for my son and saw him.  He was over in the corner next to a giant empty toybox, the contents of which were strewn about all around him.  He was standing up, trying to climb into it, while simultaneously banging a plastic cup against a toy piano with all the strength he could muster.  He was also screeching out something that I can only describe as a baby battle cry. 

I've been noticing little things before this:  he tackles me to plant big, wet, open mouth kisses on my cheek- there is nothing gentle about it.  He insists on crawling with a truck or a car at all times and has just now started to make a vrrrrroooom sound to it as well (I'm sure it's coincidental, but how is it that he inherently knows how a car sounds??).  He loves nothing more than to spill water or food onto his highchair tray and smear his goopy fingers all over anything within his reach with his toothy, devilish grin.  He loves catapulting himself off everything without so much as a warning (thank goodness my mommy adrenaline hasn't reached low levels yet as I'm always one step ahead of him- so far).  Oh yeah, and he's 10 1/2 months old!

Where did my son learn to be such a......boy

I know for a fact my husband isn't conducting classes on the benefits of rough play.  I'm pretty sure there aren't lesson plans being snuck in behind my back about how toy trucks give life meaning or speeches on the joys of smashing things together.  Therefore, I can only attribute this classic male behavior to one of those mysteries of human nature. 

I suppose it just gives some affirmation to the phrase "boys will be boys".  And I love having a boy. (Who is now a big boy and eating grilled cheese and pineapple chunks...when did this happen?!?)


Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Just one lonely thought this evening

The look on Jude's face when I pick him up from daycare;  the sheer joy and happiness that his Mama walking into the room brings him just makes it all worth it.