OMG the cuteness of Walking Boy toddling all over the house, inexplicably carrying one little Airwalk sneaker with him, ALMOST makes up for the fact that while I was putting (his) laundry in the washer, he managed to dump an entire glass of water in the nightstand drawer.
Baby gate: SO going up this weekend.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Monday, May 25, 2009
Knocked Up: The Story
Husband and I got married in 2005, and I was 27. (Husband was 24, but what. Ever. Young whippersnapper.) Having properly done my reading, in a ticking-TICKING-biological clock kind of way, I hoped to have at least a year of married couple-ness with my husband and then be pregnant by the time I was 30. I knew how hard it could be to get pregnant, especially when one is coming off of the pill, and when one was not so much in their early 20s anymore.
We debated and debated about when I should go off the pill, and the decision was basically made for us when we discovered I would run out during our annual trip to my parents' cabin in the middle-of-literally-NOWHERE, NY. (Or as I like to refer to it, "sort of Southern Western New York". Surely it was fate (and not just poor planning on my part. No.) So as of the middle of July, 2007, I was officially Off The Pill. I was hoping to be pregnant by the time I turned 30, the following April.
For some reason, I was completely convinced that I was going to have a hard time conceiving, and that it would take forever, and there would be loooonnnggg months that ended with sadness. Added to this was the fact that, given where Husband and I were working at the time, I got home at 10:30 pm and Husband had to be at work at a godawful, like 5am or something. I would come cheerfully home from work and proceed to WAKE HUSBAND UP because it was time to make a baby.
It worked.
In October, for our two year wedding anniversary, we went to visit my parents in their winter home in North Carolina. We were attempting to save money for the somewhere-in-the-future baby, so going to a different state and having a nice (FREE!) place to stay while sightseeing was key. The first night we were there, I woke up in the middle of the night feeling like a.s.s. I immediately attributed it to all the lovely McDonald's etc. airport food we had consumed that day, and turned on the light to read until I felt better.
On a side note, if I wake up in the middle of the night feeling like a.s.s., I have to do the whole distracting myself thing, otherwise I just lie there and convince myself I feel worse and worse and what if I puke? I don't want to puke.... so being the huge dork I am, I just read until I forget about it/feel better/fall asleep reading and wake up with a drool-soaked book.
Anyway. So the next day we went to the zoo. Halfway through I was so tired I had to sit down, which isn't like me at all, and I dragged ass through the rest of the day. I could not figure out what was wrong with me. I'd brought pregnancy tests with me, because of COURSE I had to test every month regardless of how sure I was that I would get my period. The next morning my period was due, so I ran into the bathroom first thing when I woke up to pee on the stick, despite the fact that I KNEW it would take longer than a couple months to get pregnant.
Before I could even put the cap back on the pee-soaked stick, there they were. TWO. PINK. LINES. And immediately my hand started shaking because OMG, I wanted this more than anything but who knew it would happen so fast and I am knocked up and I am the only one in the whole world who knows it and GOOD LORD THERE IS A HUMAN BEING INSIDE OF ME. Husband was still completely unaware of the drama going down in my parents' guest bathroom, snuggled under the covers in bed. Until I staggered in, clutching the aforementioned pee-soaked stick in my quaking hand, yelling Husband's naaaaaammmmeeeee at him in the most drawn-out, terrified way possible. "I'm pregnant......"
We debated and debated about when I should go off the pill, and the decision was basically made for us when we discovered I would run out during our annual trip to my parents' cabin in the middle-of-literally-NOWHERE, NY. (Or as I like to refer to it, "sort of Southern Western New York". Surely it was fate (and not just poor planning on my part. No.) So as of the middle of July, 2007, I was officially Off The Pill. I was hoping to be pregnant by the time I turned 30, the following April.
For some reason, I was completely convinced that I was going to have a hard time conceiving, and that it would take forever, and there would be loooonnnggg months that ended with sadness. Added to this was the fact that, given where Husband and I were working at the time, I got home at 10:30 pm and Husband had to be at work at a godawful, like 5am or something. I would come cheerfully home from work and proceed to WAKE HUSBAND UP because it was time to make a baby.
It worked.
In October, for our two year wedding anniversary, we went to visit my parents in their winter home in North Carolina. We were attempting to save money for the somewhere-in-the-future baby, so going to a different state and having a nice (FREE!) place to stay while sightseeing was key. The first night we were there, I woke up in the middle of the night feeling like a.s.s. I immediately attributed it to all the lovely McDonald's etc. airport food we had consumed that day, and turned on the light to read until I felt better.
On a side note, if I wake up in the middle of the night feeling like a.s.s., I have to do the whole distracting myself thing, otherwise I just lie there and convince myself I feel worse and worse and what if I puke? I don't want to puke.... so being the huge dork I am, I just read until I forget about it/feel better/fall asleep reading and wake up with a drool-soaked book.
Anyway. So the next day we went to the zoo. Halfway through I was so tired I had to sit down, which isn't like me at all, and I dragged ass through the rest of the day. I could not figure out what was wrong with me. I'd brought pregnancy tests with me, because of COURSE I had to test every month regardless of how sure I was that I would get my period. The next morning my period was due, so I ran into the bathroom first thing when I woke up to pee on the stick, despite the fact that I KNEW it would take longer than a couple months to get pregnant.
Before I could even put the cap back on the pee-soaked stick, there they were. TWO. PINK. LINES. And immediately my hand started shaking because OMG, I wanted this more than anything but who knew it would happen so fast and I am knocked up and I am the only one in the whole world who knows it and GOOD LORD THERE IS A HUMAN BEING INSIDE OF ME. Husband was still completely unaware of the drama going down in my parents' guest bathroom, snuggled under the covers in bed. Until I staggered in, clutching the aforementioned pee-soaked stick in my quaking hand, yelling Husband's naaaaaammmmeeeee at him in the most drawn-out, terrified way possible. "I'm pregnant......"
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Last First Holiday
As we were on our way to a barbeque this afternoon, Husband helpfully pointed out that this Memorial Day is the boy's Last First Holiday. Being born on June 9th, he came just in time for Father's Day last year. I can't believe we've already reached this point!
While you're pregnant, everyone tells you that the time flies by so quickly. Yet there's no way to truly know this, to understand the insane quickness of it all, until it happens to you. Wasn't it only a couple weeks ago that my feet were so swollen that people were horrified at the sight of them and I was basically reduced to sitting on the couch, drinking lemon water, because EVEN MY FLIP FLOPS DIDN'T FIT ANYMORE?
It was seriously not all that long ago that I was sitting at work, noticing that my stomach felt all weird and tight- which sent me to the doctor with false labor for the FIRST of TWO times? (When my water broke, I celebrated- they had to let me stay and give birth this time!)
And really, it was like FIVE. minutes.ago that we came home with this wee, tiny little guy who refused to be swaddled and would kick and kick and kick until he escaped his burrito, at which point he would fall asleep in various entertaining positions and be totally content.
I definitely intend to write about these things at a later date. I know they are totally less than interesting to non-Mommys out there, but I also think that very few non-Mommys would bother to click on "Big Trubs BABY" anyway. Yeah? So.
I have watched this little guy as he learned to smile (seven weeks), sleep through the night (fifteen weeks), eat solid (i.e. baby) food (four months), roll over (five months), sit up (six months), stand up (nine months), take his first steps (ten months), and WALK (eleven months). We have delighted in each and every brand new, totally amazing thing he's done. TODAY he learned to put a lid back on a container, and I know many people will find that ridiculous, but I see it that he is clearly gifted. So there. And now we've come to the end of his first holidays.
I'm not silly to be a little sad, right?
While you're pregnant, everyone tells you that the time flies by so quickly. Yet there's no way to truly know this, to understand the insane quickness of it all, until it happens to you. Wasn't it only a couple weeks ago that my feet were so swollen that people were horrified at the sight of them and I was basically reduced to sitting on the couch, drinking lemon water, because EVEN MY FLIP FLOPS DIDN'T FIT ANYMORE?
It was seriously not all that long ago that I was sitting at work, noticing that my stomach felt all weird and tight- which sent me to the doctor with false labor for the FIRST of TWO times? (When my water broke, I celebrated- they had to let me stay and give birth this time!)
And really, it was like FIVE. minutes.ago that we came home with this wee, tiny little guy who refused to be swaddled and would kick and kick and kick until he escaped his burrito, at which point he would fall asleep in various entertaining positions and be totally content.
I definitely intend to write about these things at a later date. I know they are totally less than interesting to non-Mommys out there, but I also think that very few non-Mommys would bother to click on "Big Trubs BABY" anyway. Yeah? So.
I have watched this little guy as he learned to smile (seven weeks), sleep through the night (fifteen weeks), eat solid (i.e. baby) food (four months), roll over (five months), sit up (six months), stand up (nine months), take his first steps (ten months), and WALK (eleven months). We have delighted in each and every brand new, totally amazing thing he's done. TODAY he learned to put a lid back on a container, and I know many people will find that ridiculous, but I see it that he is clearly gifted. So there. And now we've come to the end of his first holidays.
I'm not silly to be a little sad, right?
Friday, May 22, 2009
Another Thing I've Learned
While I still believe I am firmly within my right to keep the boy out of the cats' water dishes, despite the arched-back tantrums he throws when I tell him no, I have totally ceded to him in the I-am-going-to-take-everything-out-of-my-diaper-bag-and-scatter-it-around-the-living-room fight.
Because in this mommyhood thing, if there is one thing I have totally learned, it is to PICK YOUR BATTLES.
Because in this mommyhood thing, if there is one thing I have totally learned, it is to PICK YOUR BATTLES.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
I Go Out Walking
And lo, the boy is walking. And walking and walking and walking.
And the Mama is learning firsthand that when the boy is quiet, it means he is Up. To. No. Good. Unrolling the toilet paper. Trying to eat kitty food. Playing in the kitty water, or with the toilet lid.
We didn't want to go crazy babyproofing, since I know the boy will have to be in homes where no babyproofing has been done. I also firmly believe that he can and should learn the meaning of the word no, as well as what can be played with and what can't. Don't worry, I put latches on the cabinet doors and socket thingies in the electrical sockets. I have my eye on him at all times and when I am not in the same room with him (despite the fact that we have a small, square apartment where I can basically peer into every room from one of the other rooms), he is in his exersaucer or his pack and play. (And what do you do once they outgrow the saucer? I shudder at the thought!)
So he is learning...slowly... and in the meantime I spend all my days running after him.. and loving it!
And the Mama is learning firsthand that when the boy is quiet, it means he is Up. To. No. Good. Unrolling the toilet paper. Trying to eat kitty food. Playing in the kitty water, or with the toilet lid.
We didn't want to go crazy babyproofing, since I know the boy will have to be in homes where no babyproofing has been done. I also firmly believe that he can and should learn the meaning of the word no, as well as what can be played with and what can't. Don't worry, I put latches on the cabinet doors and socket thingies in the electrical sockets. I have my eye on him at all times and when I am not in the same room with him (despite the fact that we have a small, square apartment where I can basically peer into every room from one of the other rooms), he is in his exersaucer or his pack and play. (And what do you do once they outgrow the saucer? I shudder at the thought!)
So he is learning...slowly... and in the meantime I spend all my days running after him.. and loving it!
Monday, May 18, 2009
Back to Work
I have been at home with Little Dude for over two months now, since I left my old job. Before that, I worked nights and so was home with him during the day.
That's all about to end next month. I have to go back to work. I wish so much, with all my heart, that I didn't have to. That I could continue to wake up when he does, to spend the day playing with him, chasing him around, taking him to the park, putting him down for his naps. That he could stay where I, or his father, can keep an eye on him. But we need to be a two-income family.
The hardest thing for me is to come to terms with the fact that this will be good for him. He loves people, going places, other kids, and the bird at his new sitter's house. He is good with other people, happy and easygoing, and loves to check out new things. He will benefit from time away from us, from learning from and about other people, from socializing (as much as any one-year-old can socialize, that is).
But I am having a hard time reconciling myself to the fact that he's growing up and isn't a little baby anymore. It seems like the months, especially since my PPD has been addressed, are slipping through my fingers in a blur of happiness and joy.
It's so hard to be a Mom who has to go back to work. Honestly, being a Mom was all I ever really wanted to be in my life. But I know I'm doing this for my son, and for the good of my family as a whole.
I just can't seem to convince my heart of that.
That's all about to end next month. I have to go back to work. I wish so much, with all my heart, that I didn't have to. That I could continue to wake up when he does, to spend the day playing with him, chasing him around, taking him to the park, putting him down for his naps. That he could stay where I, or his father, can keep an eye on him. But we need to be a two-income family.
The hardest thing for me is to come to terms with the fact that this will be good for him. He loves people, going places, other kids, and the bird at his new sitter's house. He is good with other people, happy and easygoing, and loves to check out new things. He will benefit from time away from us, from learning from and about other people, from socializing (as much as any one-year-old can socialize, that is).
But I am having a hard time reconciling myself to the fact that he's growing up and isn't a little baby anymore. It seems like the months, especially since my PPD has been addressed, are slipping through my fingers in a blur of happiness and joy.
It's so hard to be a Mom who has to go back to work. Honestly, being a Mom was all I ever really wanted to be in my life. But I know I'm doing this for my son, and for the good of my family as a whole.
I just can't seem to convince my heart of that.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Argh.
I just so love it when my husband comes home on Fridays, grumpy because he's worn out from the week, and takes out his grumpiness on me. Um, hello, I've been here all week with the poosplosions, the laundry, the learning-to-walk-11-month-old who likes to drop his binkies in the cats' water dish, and very little adult contact or conversation, and yet I still manage to be happy and pleasant to you, don't I??
Not to mention he has had some kind of cold/allergies going on FOR. EVER. and yet refuses to ever take any medication or see a doctor for it, except when it got bad enough to be called a sinus infection and he had to go get some antibiotics. He probably has swine flu and he's going to infect me and the little dude. All he does is sit there and SNIFF HIS SNOT BACK INTO HIS THROAT and then cough and go spit in the sink. It makes me want to throttle him.
Can you tell I have PMS?
The good news is that Alex, who I really once thought I was going to be feeding applesauce to at his wedding, is voluntarily eating those Gerber puffs and yogurt melts! Seriously, one time we put a Cheerio on his tongue and he gagged so hard he threw up. Thanks to the introduction of Baby Mum-Mums (rice rusks), he has moved slowly from those, to Crunchies, cheese, pickles, french fries, and now the aforementioned snacks. He also gnaws on bananas and plums! I'm so relieved that now I'll have actual foods to relate to the doctor at his one-year checkup.
Well, I might not tell her about the french fries.
Not to mention he has had some kind of cold/allergies going on FOR. EVER. and yet refuses to ever take any medication or see a doctor for it, except when it got bad enough to be called a sinus infection and he had to go get some antibiotics. He probably has swine flu and he's going to infect me and the little dude. All he does is sit there and SNIFF HIS SNOT BACK INTO HIS THROAT and then cough and go spit in the sink. It makes me want to throttle him.
Can you tell I have PMS?
The good news is that Alex, who I really once thought I was going to be feeding applesauce to at his wedding, is voluntarily eating those Gerber puffs and yogurt melts! Seriously, one time we put a Cheerio on his tongue and he gagged so hard he threw up. Thanks to the introduction of Baby Mum-Mums (rice rusks), he has moved slowly from those, to Crunchies, cheese, pickles, french fries, and now the aforementioned snacks. He also gnaws on bananas and plums! I'm so relieved that now I'll have actual foods to relate to the doctor at his one-year checkup.
Well, I might not tell her about the french fries.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Bad Mama
Things I Have Let My Son Play With:
(in order to get just one more second of peace)
My car keys
His father's car keys
My cell phone
The (paper) CVS bag his acid reflux medication came in
The top of the printer (open, shut. open, shut)
The lid to the garbage can (see above)
The cat toys
Unopened package of baby wipes
Clean diaper
Tube of Aveeno diaper rash cream
Roll of toilet paper
(in order to get just one more second of peace)
My car keys
His father's car keys
My cell phone
The (paper) CVS bag his acid reflux medication came in
The top of the printer (open, shut. open, shut)
The lid to the garbage can (see above)
The cat toys
Unopened package of baby wipes
Clean diaper
Tube of Aveeno diaper rash cream
Roll of toilet paper
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Wonder Mama
I wanted to be able to do everything. I could. I could do it all.
When my son was born, I was working at a job which required me to work Sunday through Thursday, from 4:00 pm until midnight. This job was located 35 minutes away from my home... in good weather. During the winter, a winter in which every. single. snowstorm. took place at, around, or shortly after midnight, it could take me an hour or more to reach home.
But. We wouldn't have to put our tiny little guy in day care. He would be cared for by Mama during the day, and Daddy at night. Which is what I repeated to anyone who dared to ask me how I could do it, over and over and over again, from the time I went back to work when Alex was three months old until I finally gave up when he was nine months old.
And in between. Oohhhhh, in between.
I was a miserable, crying, shaking, horrific wreck. But only at home. Constantly calling my poor husband at work, demanding that he come home, screaming at him. I didn't know what the hell I was doing, and should something earth-shattering and unendurable happen, like Alex not finishing his bottle or not wanting to take a nap, I fell apart even more. I couldn't get it together enough to leave the house with him, and if I did manage to get him to his doctor's appointments on my own I was worn out for the rest of the week. Forget taking him anywhere else. Add this to the fact that it was fall and winter and he was too little to get any entertainment out of being outside.
But the only person who knew about this was my husband. I was completely ashamed to tell anyone else how I was feeling. Real moms don't feel this way, right? I must be so completely screwed up. What am I doing wrong and how can I fix it?
Finally, it got to a point where I literally could not imagine my life going on the way it was. Even after I left the job-of-horrific-hours, since there would be no way for me to get an earlier shift...for at least a year...no joke. My husband made me an appointment with my OB/GYN and met me there to wrangle Alex while I talked with her. And I told her the truth. Told her how overwhelmed I was, and how miserable, and how alone. And she listened, and she gave me a prescription.
And things are so much better now. I am not ashamed that I needed a little help with this mothering thing. Now that I have gotten and accepted help, I am finding that this is not nearly as uncommon as I thought. Reading the blogs of people who have gone through the same thing, and talking to my Mama Friends has made me feel so much better, so much less alone. I am finally the Mama I always wanted to be, always knew I could be.
Don't let anyone fool you. For most of us, making the transition from childless to Mama is extremely difficult. In one day, you stop being the most important thing. Into the world comes this tiny little person who BECOMES your world. It can be lonely. It can make you cry. It can be the hardest thing you've ever done. It WILL be the hardest thing you've ever done. But it's totally worth every second. And if you should need help with the whole becoming a Mama thing, that doesn't make you a terrible Mama. You are doing the right thing by getting help. You are allowing yourself to be the best Mama you can be for your child.
I never in a million years imagined that this would be me, that I would be the one writing about going on medication in order to save my sanity and become the best Mama I could be. But you know what- life with the boy is so much better and more fun. For both of us, and for Daddy too.
When my son was born, I was working at a job which required me to work Sunday through Thursday, from 4:00 pm until midnight. This job was located 35 minutes away from my home... in good weather. During the winter, a winter in which every. single. snowstorm. took place at, around, or shortly after midnight, it could take me an hour or more to reach home.
But. We wouldn't have to put our tiny little guy in day care. He would be cared for by Mama during the day, and Daddy at night. Which is what I repeated to anyone who dared to ask me how I could do it, over and over and over again, from the time I went back to work when Alex was three months old until I finally gave up when he was nine months old.
And in between. Oohhhhh, in between.
I was a miserable, crying, shaking, horrific wreck. But only at home. Constantly calling my poor husband at work, demanding that he come home, screaming at him. I didn't know what the hell I was doing, and should something earth-shattering and unendurable happen, like Alex not finishing his bottle or not wanting to take a nap, I fell apart even more. I couldn't get it together enough to leave the house with him, and if I did manage to get him to his doctor's appointments on my own I was worn out for the rest of the week. Forget taking him anywhere else. Add this to the fact that it was fall and winter and he was too little to get any entertainment out of being outside.
But the only person who knew about this was my husband. I was completely ashamed to tell anyone else how I was feeling. Real moms don't feel this way, right? I must be so completely screwed up. What am I doing wrong and how can I fix it?
Finally, it got to a point where I literally could not imagine my life going on the way it was. Even after I left the job-of-horrific-hours, since there would be no way for me to get an earlier shift...for at least a year...no joke. My husband made me an appointment with my OB/GYN and met me there to wrangle Alex while I talked with her. And I told her the truth. Told her how overwhelmed I was, and how miserable, and how alone. And she listened, and she gave me a prescription.
And things are so much better now. I am not ashamed that I needed a little help with this mothering thing. Now that I have gotten and accepted help, I am finding that this is not nearly as uncommon as I thought. Reading the blogs of people who have gone through the same thing, and talking to my Mama Friends has made me feel so much better, so much less alone. I am finally the Mama I always wanted to be, always knew I could be.
Don't let anyone fool you. For most of us, making the transition from childless to Mama is extremely difficult. In one day, you stop being the most important thing. Into the world comes this tiny little person who BECOMES your world. It can be lonely. It can make you cry. It can be the hardest thing you've ever done. It WILL be the hardest thing you've ever done. But it's totally worth every second. And if you should need help with the whole becoming a Mama thing, that doesn't make you a terrible Mama. You are doing the right thing by getting help. You are allowing yourself to be the best Mama you can be for your child.
I never in a million years imagined that this would be me, that I would be the one writing about going on medication in order to save my sanity and become the best Mama I could be. But you know what- life with the boy is so much better and more fun. For both of us, and for Daddy too.
Lesson Learned
No matter how badly you want coffee after the kid goes down for his nap, never.
Ever.
Ever.
Shake the Coffeemate bottle until after you have ensured the cap is closed.
Ever.
Ever.
Shake the Coffeemate bottle until after you have ensured the cap is closed.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Pickle.
I have been seeing lately that my boy, who looked exactly like my nephew at birth and looks very much like me on many occasions, with his father's big grin, is more like me than I had even imagined possible.
When he gets angry or frustrated with something, he throws a LOUD but mercifully BRIEF hissy fit. (Me: COME HELP ME WITH THIS F***** JAR LID IT WON'T OPEN.....never mind, got it)
He loves goats. (Me: Can we feed the goats, can we, do you have a quarter? Come here, goat!)
He loves chasing the ducks at the park. (Me: Ooh baby ducks! Look at the fuzzy wee babies! Can I go see the baby ducks? Babbbeeeeeee duckieeeeeesss!)
He is amused by the cat's craziness. (Me: LOOK AT THE CAT. Lookatherlookatherlookather. That cat is nuts.) (I will also admit that once, we put tape on Nutmeg's feet. It was mean and we should never do it again. But we probably will.)
And today, yet another way my little guy is like me. I was trying to feed him lunch and he wouldn't eat more than a bite of anything. Until I gave him a kosher dill pickle. Which he proceeded to maul and gnaw until it was an unrecognizable, soggy lump on his tray. (Me: Deep fried pickles! Pickle on a stick! Ooh, can we get a pickle on a stick? Mmmmmm.)
That's my boy!
When he gets angry or frustrated with something, he throws a LOUD but mercifully BRIEF hissy fit. (Me: COME HELP ME WITH THIS F***** JAR LID IT WON'T OPEN.....never mind, got it)
He loves goats. (Me: Can we feed the goats, can we, do you have a quarter? Come here, goat!)
He loves chasing the ducks at the park. (Me: Ooh baby ducks! Look at the fuzzy wee babies! Can I go see the baby ducks? Babbbeeeeeee duckieeeeeesss!)
He is amused by the cat's craziness. (Me: LOOK AT THE CAT. Lookatherlookatherlookather. That cat is nuts.) (I will also admit that once, we put tape on Nutmeg's feet. It was mean and we should never do it again. But we probably will.)
And today, yet another way my little guy is like me. I was trying to feed him lunch and he wouldn't eat more than a bite of anything. Until I gave him a kosher dill pickle. Which he proceeded to maul and gnaw until it was an unrecognizable, soggy lump on his tray. (Me: Deep fried pickles! Pickle on a stick! Ooh, can we get a pickle on a stick? Mmmmmm.)
That's my boy!
Monday, May 11, 2009
Mama's Day
My first real Mother's Day was awesome.
We took the little Dude to a local festival, where he discovered the joy of a goat nibbling on his wee little finger, and chuckled each and every time. I was given a surprise birthday party by my wonderful husband, who presumably looked into my brain to find out what would be the best thing for me, to cheer me up and make me feel loved and special. Watching my little guy run around and play with the daughter of our friends totally made my day, not to mention my friends who surrounded me with love. Then the boy spent the night at Nana's, and my husband and I went home to watch a movie at WHATEVER! VOLUME! WE! WANTED! Not to mention we finished! it!
I slept til 8:30 am.... there was a time in my life when I would have thrown a large hissy fit at having to get up at that hour, and now I call it sleeping in. Does that officially make me a Mama or what?
My husband also showed that he has immense faith in me by giving me a miniature rosebush for Mother's Day. I am what is known as Death to Plants and can surely have been forgiven for saying in disbelief, "You got me a PLANT?"
Today I spent my day being led around the house by the guy, with the ribbon to a leftover party balloon clenched in one chubby fist and my finger clenched in the other. Round and round we went, through the living room into the kitchen and back again. His little legs going and going and going. And I just let him lead me, and took a moment to look at the world through his eyes. Because in a month I go back to work, and it will break my heart. He will love getting to be with other kids during the day, and I know it will be good for him. But these days with him have been the sweetest, funniest, hardest, and most rewarding of my life.
We took the little Dude to a local festival, where he discovered the joy of a goat nibbling on his wee little finger, and chuckled each and every time. I was given a surprise birthday party by my wonderful husband, who presumably looked into my brain to find out what would be the best thing for me, to cheer me up and make me feel loved and special. Watching my little guy run around and play with the daughter of our friends totally made my day, not to mention my friends who surrounded me with love. Then the boy spent the night at Nana's, and my husband and I went home to watch a movie at WHATEVER! VOLUME! WE! WANTED! Not to mention we finished! it!
I slept til 8:30 am.... there was a time in my life when I would have thrown a large hissy fit at having to get up at that hour, and now I call it sleeping in. Does that officially make me a Mama or what?
My husband also showed that he has immense faith in me by giving me a miniature rosebush for Mother's Day. I am what is known as Death to Plants and can surely have been forgiven for saying in disbelief, "You got me a PLANT?"
Today I spent my day being led around the house by the guy, with the ribbon to a leftover party balloon clenched in one chubby fist and my finger clenched in the other. Round and round we went, through the living room into the kitchen and back again. His little legs going and going and going. And I just let him lead me, and took a moment to look at the world through his eyes. Because in a month I go back to work, and it will break my heart. He will love getting to be with other kids during the day, and I know it will be good for him. But these days with him have been the sweetest, funniest, hardest, and most rewarding of my life.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Oh help!
I meant to post later that day, I truly did.
The boy has learned to walk. And so I have spent the last few days rescuing the humidifier, the garbage can, the toilet paper, and the cats from those chubby little fingers. At the same time, he has given up his morning nap OH GOD NO. Unfortunately, he still gets just as tired and cranky- he just doesn't go to sleep to make himself OR MOMMY WHO NEEDS HER COFFEE feel any better.
Thus he has been spending Mommy's coffee time playing with his crib toys.
Anyway! I'll start off with me. I'm 31, from a small town in Western New York. I decamped WNY.... for eastern New York... and there I stay. I've always gone just a little bit off the beaten path and I like it that way. I love purses, sneakers, cats, and my family. One of the highlights of my year is when we take our annual trip to visit my parents' home for half the year- a cabin in the literal middle of nowhere in WNY.
I met my husband, B, in 2003. I was introduced to him by my high school sweetheart, who I remained good friends with. The night I met B I was "celebrating" with friends and do not remember meeting him. The next day B came back, presumably to ensure that I was still alive. I went home thinking I had met a really nice guy. One year later we moved in together. Two months later we were engaged. One year and three months later, we were married. Two years to the day after our wedding, we found out we were having a baby. And there my descent into this crazy land called Motherhood began.
I intend to get into way more (probably too many more) details about all of this as we go on. This is what's known as the severely abridged version that I am able to handle before bed on a Friday night!
In other news, the boy will walk to Daddy and a stroller (suitable for pushing) but hardly ever to boring old Mommy who he sees day in and day out. Sigh. The boy wants only to push the stroller, not to ride in it NO NEVER KTHX. My attempts to have him ride in his stroller instead of push it himself, for example when we are trying to cross the street and cannot, say, sit down in the middle to examine a twig, are met with howls. HOWLS I SAY! MOM IS MEAN!
I love this kid. He is just like me.
The boy has learned to walk. And so I have spent the last few days rescuing the humidifier, the garbage can, the toilet paper, and the cats from those chubby little fingers. At the same time, he has given up his morning nap OH GOD NO. Unfortunately, he still gets just as tired and cranky- he just doesn't go to sleep to make himself OR MOMMY WHO NEEDS HER COFFEE feel any better.
Thus he has been spending Mommy's coffee time playing with his crib toys.
Anyway! I'll start off with me. I'm 31, from a small town in Western New York. I decamped WNY.... for eastern New York... and there I stay. I've always gone just a little bit off the beaten path and I like it that way. I love purses, sneakers, cats, and my family. One of the highlights of my year is when we take our annual trip to visit my parents' home for half the year- a cabin in the literal middle of nowhere in WNY.
I met my husband, B, in 2003. I was introduced to him by my high school sweetheart, who I remained good friends with. The night I met B I was "celebrating" with friends and do not remember meeting him. The next day B came back, presumably to ensure that I was still alive. I went home thinking I had met a really nice guy. One year later we moved in together. Two months later we were engaged. One year and three months later, we were married. Two years to the day after our wedding, we found out we were having a baby. And there my descent into this crazy land called Motherhood began.
I intend to get into way more (probably too many more) details about all of this as we go on. This is what's known as the severely abridged version that I am able to handle before bed on a Friday night!
In other news, the boy will walk to Daddy and a stroller (suitable for pushing) but hardly ever to boring old Mommy who he sees day in and day out. Sigh. The boy wants only to push the stroller, not to ride in it NO NEVER KTHX. My attempts to have him ride in his stroller instead of push it himself, for example when we are trying to cross the street and cannot, say, sit down in the middle to examine a twig, are met with howls. HOWLS I SAY! MOM IS MEAN!
I love this kid. He is just like me.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Trix
The baby is finally asleep.
The past few days, he has been trying to give up his morning nap, but I successfully got him to sleep with an extra helping of Sesame Street. To celebrate, I ate two bowls of Trix.
Why I am starting this blog? Because becoming a Mommy was harder than I thought. Because over the nine months of my pregnancy and the subsequent almost-eleven-months of Alex's life, reading the so-called "Mommy blogs" sustained me, taught me, and made me feel that I wasn't alone. If I can do that for someone else, this blog will be totally worth the time away from housecleaning (snort).
But first, as the little man is asleep, I am going to sit on the couch and drink coffee. Later: introductions!
The past few days, he has been trying to give up his morning nap, but I successfully got him to sleep with an extra helping of Sesame Street. To celebrate, I ate two bowls of Trix.
Why I am starting this blog? Because becoming a Mommy was harder than I thought. Because over the nine months of my pregnancy and the subsequent almost-eleven-months of Alex's life, reading the so-called "Mommy blogs" sustained me, taught me, and made me feel that I wasn't alone. If I can do that for someone else, this blog will be totally worth the time away from housecleaning (snort).
But first, as the little man is asleep, I am going to sit on the couch and drink coffee. Later: introductions!
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