Maybe I'll Be Staying Home With Harry After All

Something got fucked up at work today.

Someone senior to me said "Can we do X?" And I said sure. On its face, it seemed reasonable. For a reason neither of us thought of but which we were equally capable of recognizing, it turned out doing X was not a good plan. I fear that if a head must roll, it may be mine, even though it wasn't entirely my fault. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Fuck.

Oh, and it's 6:30 on a Friday night and I'm still here. This is the third night this week that I've missed Harry's dinner, and may be the first that I miss bedtime. I want to curl up in a corner right now.

Seven Months

My special guy,

I think I say this every month, but this was a huge month for you. New skills, a new routine, time with family. There was much going on.

No sooner had your seventh month began than you decided it was time to roll back to front and sit independently. The first time you rolled from front to back, you seemed shocked that it had happened. Even now, four months later, you seem a little uncertain when you want to get off your tummy. Back to front was completely different. It was clearly deliberate, and definitely something you had been mentally puzzling for a while. Once you did it, you kept on doing it. Over and over. But just because you do it on purpose doesn't mean that you're happy about it. Which can be a problem when it's naptime and you are too tired to remember how to flip back over. Or when you roll yourself into the side of the crib.

Being able to sit on your own for long stretches has allowed you to learn how to play with your toys in a more meaningful way. You have figured out that a toy at a distance on a blanket can be brought closer by pulling on the blanket. You transfer your toys from hand to hand, shaking and throwing and banging them to see what they do. You push the animal sounds on the exersaucer. And you rock the ring stacker back and forth, fascinated by the movement. When you want a ring, you find a way to get it, sometimes taking the rings off one at a time and other times knocking them all off at once by pulling on the bottom and tipping the whole thing over.

But even though you know tons of new ways to play, your first choice is still to stick anything you encounter in your mouth.

Your love affair with solid food continues. We thought you ate a lot before, but you were just getting started. It turns out that you love fruit. Any fruit. Banana, avocado, peaches, apples, prunes, pears. Each one better than the last. You now eat two meals of solids daily, each one consisting of a quarter cup of cereal, plus milk or water to mix, followed by (or mixed with) a half cup of fruit or vegetable. It's a bit grotesque. We'll be adding in a third meal soon, even though you may eat us out of house and home.

Apparently all this food agrees with you, as you seem to have gained three pounds this month, if the bathroom scale is to be believed. And I think it is, as we discovered on Sunday that you outgrew your Easter outfit long before Easter -- whereas you wore the 0-3 month size until you were 4 months, at 7 months you seem to be done with much of the 6-9. Sigh. You used to be our stringbean, but that doesn't seem to be the case anymore. It's amazing to watch you transform from a baby into a big boy, right before our eyes.

Speaking of the Easter outfit, you survived Easter wearing a onesie and cords with your vest. The three of us went to church together, which was nice -- people hadn't seen you in a while, as your naptime is now at the same time as church. We then went to see your great-grandma and your grammies and your step-grandparents for lunch. Everyone was very happy to see you. Everyone wanted to play with you -- even your great-grandma, who decided she would like to be called GG. Your grammy JJ had you laughing up a storm, which got her laughing hysterically in turn. They were all amazed to see how interactive you've gotten. We then went to see Daddy's family -- Grandma and Grandpa and Auntie T. You seemed to have a fantastic time, and everyone enjoyed getting to spend time with you, even though it was exhausting for your daddy and me. I'm glad to see you developing a good relationship with your family.

Speaking of relationships, you have finally figured out that torment need not be a one way street between you and the dog. He may win when it comes to licking, but you have figured out how to kick him and how to pull his fur. We've been trying to teach you to be gentle, to pet him nicely, but it's tough when he's always in your face, trying to get his kisses in. He's going to be in for a rude awakening when you become mobile.

All that said, this month hasn't been all sunshine and rainbows. You have become a huge fan of hair pulling, which wasn't so bad when you were smaller but has started to hurt now that you're bigger. More painfully, you have realized that you can bite, which is fine when you're playing with a toy but less fine when you're nursing. You've been biting more and more and eating less and less lately, which makes me sad. I love our special time together and hope this passes soon.

And even more sadly for me, this month was the month when our full-time time together came to an end. After six months of getting to be your mommy all day long, it was time for me to return to work. This seems to have been a much bigger deal for me than it was for you. I cried a bunch the first few days whereas you were perfectly content to hang out with Miss M and the motley crew for the day. Someone is still giving you your milk and your solids and putting you down for your naps. So long as that happens, you don't seem to mind that that someone isn't me. I am very glad that you weren't traumatized by the change but will admit to being a little sad that you don't seem to miss me at all. Because even though it's gotten easier to go to work I do miss you terribly all day. I don't know how anyone wouldn't miss a guy as great as you, even if you do bite.

But then I get to come home at the end of the day and see your big smiles and get some sweet cuddles. I feed you your dinner. I watch you try so very desperately to crawl. After daddy gives you your bath and does your lotion and puts on your jammies, you nurse for the last time of the day, and I watch you relax into me, rubbing my hand with yours with your eyes closed as you get ready to drift off to sleep, opening them again to smile at me as I leave your room. And my heart is so full it could burst. And all is right with the world.

Love always,

Mommy

Birthday

My dear rice krispie,

Had you made it out of the first trimester and been among the small percentage of babies born on their due date (like your mama), we would be celebrating your first birthday today.

Remembering you today,

Mommy

Praying It's Not the Beginner's End

Ever since starting day care, my nursing relationship with my son has been getting poorer and poorer. Today, he barely nursed at all. He would latch on, suck 2 or 3 times, then bite. And he has teeth, so it hurts. Since 8:30 this morning, he hasn't eaten for more than 3 minutes at a time. And he has bitten me so many times I've lost count. I can't imagine that he isn't incredibly hungry right now. I'm sure he'll wake up in the middle of the night, crying in hunger. And I have no idea what to do. I want to fix this more than I could ever express.

As I mentioned before when talking about my concerns about supply (which have proven unfounded -- I'm pretty sure I have had no supply issues), I feel very strongly about this on a personal level. Please know that I have no issues with people who can't nurse or who choose not to -- and I don't think breastfeeding is necessary to a strong and healthy relationship with one's child. But it's something that is important to me. And I'm beyond devastated right now. My nipples are in pain from being bitten so many times. And my breasts ache with fullness. And I am so frustrated and so sad. It's been over a week that these issues have persisted. It seems to be getting worse rather than better. And I'm just so sad.

Sleeping In

Out of the last eleven weekend days, P has slept in on nine of them. Four or five of those, he slept until 9. Most of the rest were until 7:30 or 8. Two he only slept until Harry was changed and fed. (Harry wakes up around 6:20 most days. Man, I wish it were 7.) I have slept in (enough to require P to give him a bottle) four times since Harry was born, one of those times being in the past few weeks.

On these weekend mornings, I find myself full of a jumble of emotions and am never quite sure what to make of it. I feel a resentment toward P for just assuming that I will be the one to get up every frickin Saturday and Sunday. But it's not really about that. It's not like I don't want to be spending that time with Harry, feeding him and playing with him, just the two of us. Because I do. Who would want to miss this?


It's more that I wish that I didn't feel an underlying sense of guilt for wanting to sleep in. Because, seriously, I'd love to get a little extra sleep. I miss sleeping past 7. Really, really miss it. And I'm not good at going to bed early, so I'm tired all the time. But I get so much less time with Harry now that I'm back at work, and I hate the idea of giving any of that up, even for sleep. And he already gets so many meals provided by someone who isn't me each week. And he's growing so much and doing so many new things and getting ready to pop more teeth and starting to push up on his hands and knees and discovering new ways to play with toys and I'd hate to miss any of it.

For a while I thought that maybe my resentment toward P was really me wanting him to want to spend that time with Harry (in a very stereotypical woman-wanting-man-to-want-something kinda way) and to be willing to sacrifice time for himself to do so. But I think maybe I'm just jealous of his ability to take space for himself when he needs it. To go play video-games with friends on a Saturday. To take a motorcycle safety class for a weekend. To get a little extra sleep. I probably need to do more of that myself. But I'm not really there yet.

Something for me to ponder.

Wordless Wednesday: Open Mouth, Insert...

Utility

Last week I actually had some work to do and was surprised to find that it felt really good to be back at work. I think a lot of my job-loathing came from having so little to do for so long prior to my leave.

Once upon a time, I was very busy, so much so that I felt overwhelmed, but that sense of being overwhelmed was far preferable to the sense of being first indifferent and then somewhat hostile that came with being bored. It turned out that I preferred being productive and useful from 8:30am-10pm(/11/12/3/6am) over having a shorter day in which I felt useless. Well-paid, but useless. Or maybe I was just better able to avoid giving any serious thought to my feelings about my job and whether or not I liked it at all and just assumed I must like it if I did it so much -- the wonders of cognitive dissonance. Either way, I was much happier.

And here I am again. Last week, the days when I was busy, I had positive feelings about my job. I felt productive and useful. I enjoyed having deadlines and feeling a tad frenzied. I got a bit of a rush from it, in fact. But, unlike before, I felt like there was a serious tradeoff.

Every day, Harry grows up a little more, and I already feel like I'm missing so much of it. This time, I missed dinner-time solids but I made it home in time for bath and bedtime (and then worked from home until 11ish). But I know that I won't always be able to -- there will be times when I will get stuck at the office. And that push and pull between work and home is, well, hard to balance. I get a thrill from the adrenaline rush that comes from being busy, just like I always did, but it's tempered by the knowldge that any such thrill is fleeting and meaningless in comparison to the sense of calm and wholeness I get from spending time with my son, time that I am missing while I enjoy the thrill.

And I am aware of the irony of the fact that I get a thrill at work from being needed (and occasionally appreciated) in some way, while Harry, with whom I would really rather be, would probably not notice were I not to make it home for bedtime -- just as one lady is as good as another during the day, one parent is as good as another at night. Of course, one associate is generally as good as any other as well, which is, perhaps, the true irony.

One Week Down...

Monday, I got home from work and thought "I survived going back to work!" and felt very self-satisfied. Then I remembered I would have to go back to work *every* day from now on. And that left me feeling very sad.

Harry seemed to enjoy daycare. He had no issues at drop off (and didn't seem any happier to see me at pickup than he did the other kids' mommies). For him, one lady taking care of him seems to be as good as the next. As for me, I cried a lot the first day, some the second day, a little the third day, and remained tear-free on the fourth. So, progress, I suppose.

I still have two main concerns.

One, I'm a little worried about his activities during the day. From looking over his log, I'm worried he spends most of the day in one of three places: the highchair (having his lunch and being kept safe while Miss M prepares lunch for the big kids), in the pack n play (for naps) and being held (while having a bottle or going to the park). I'm not sure he's getting much floor-play time, but I could be totally wrong (and very well may be, since he rolled back to front for the first time on Tuesday evening and has done it consistently and easily since). I'll speak to her about it Monday when we drop him off.

Two, I don't know how long I'll be able to keep up with him by pumping. He drinks 18 ounces of breastmilk in the 9 hours he's there (3 6-ounce bottles). That seems like a ton of milk to pump. I was able to pump close to that this week, but I don't know that that will last as my body adjusts to pumping rather than nursing that often. I have a decent freezer stash to supplement but I'll burn through it fast if my supply takes a nosedive. And whatever I pump at night before bed is what I use for his cereal meals the next day (and that's barely enough, now that he has 1/4 cup of cereal twice a day). That may be the first sacrifice -- I may switch that to water or formula and use that milk for bottles. On a related note, I'm surprised to find that I don't loathe pumping (not that I enjoy it, but...). That said, I really miss breastfeeding. I miss the closeness, the time that is just for me and Harry, gazing at my sweet boy and stroking his hair while I meet his most basic need. It's hard not to cry even just thinking about it now, even though he's only a foot away from me, playing in his exersaucer.

So, one week down. A lifetime to go.

Dreary Monday

Sitting here in my office, walking the halls, staring at the monitor, it almost feels like I never left. Then I see the animal mom-baby pairs on the 2008 Wildlife Families calendar that is still on my wall and feel a tremendous ache in my heart.

If anyone has any good jokes or funny stories to keep me busy (since I have absolutely no work, which makes it that much harder to be here), please send them my way -- post here or send me an email at ourboxofrain at gmail.

Six Months

My baby boy,

Whereas last month was dominated by travel, this month was all about food. You tried solids (i.e. purees) for the first time on Valentine's Day, beginning with rice cereal. We started you with breakfast but you weren't really having it, which surprised me since your mommy is all about breakfast. So we switched you to lunch, and it turns out you really like food. (I'd say I wish we started you sooner, but the poops are rather gross and I'm glad we staved those off a bit by waiting until five months.)

As far as food goes, you seem to be an equal-opportunity kinda guy, gladly gobbling up anything we put before you. Anything except green beans. You do not like green beans. You don't like the smell. You don't like the taste. You don't like the aftertaste. You'll eat them if mixed with sweet potatoes, but only if there are more sweet potatoes than beans. If the ratio gets too close, yuck. Your dad and I hope your opinion of green beans changes, because we both really enjoy green beans.

As far as style goes, I wouldn't exactly call you a neat eater but you're a lot less messy than I feared you'd be. Your food tends to stay on your hands and face, and even tends to remain in the mouth region of your face. I haven't had to dig any food from your ears or wash it out of your hair yet (knock on wood), though I do generally have to wipe the folds of your neck as you seem fond of hiding some extra food there. That said, you have little say in when you get your next meal of solids, so I can't really blame you for trying to save a little for a snack.

As if in recognition of the fact that you might one day need them for this eating thing, you decided to grow some teeth this month. One Sunday morning, you had a tooth. And then that Thursday you had another. You have long been a big fan of mouthing everything, and your drooling had actually slowed down a bit, and your nighttime sleep didn't seem at all disrupted, so we really didn't see this tooth thing coming (although perhaps this was the cause of some of your napping difficulties). But there's no mistaking it -- you have two teeth, and they are very sharp. We used to let you gnaw on our fingers, but I think that era is over, as it now feels like a teeny tiny saw is attacking as you rub your teeth back and forth. You may know this already, as you spend a lot of time (playing, sleeping, even eating) with your index and middle fingers of your right hand upside down and shoved into your mouth. One day you're going to bite down too hard on your own hand and realize how much it hurts. Ouch!

As far as other firsts go, you went for your first walk in your big boy stroller, a hand-me-down from your friends J&J, whose mommy and daddy realized they didn't need six strollers for the two of them and graciously offered up their Zooper for you. You also wore your snowsuit for the first time, then promptly grew out of it, though not until after I took a few pictures and went out in the snow. You appear to have inherited your daddy's ridiculously long arms, so the fold-over mitten part doesn't exactly fit anymore. Thankfully, your friend N had an extra snowsuit in the next size up and her mommy is letting you wear it -- thanks C.

Although you still haven't rolled from your back to your front, you have been working hard on sitting up. You can do it for several minutes at a time now. You can right yourself when you start to lean to the side or to the back and have figured out how to reach for toys. You still lean too far forward and grunt, and you still fall over, and you still spit up often when sitting, but you definitely seem to enjoy the changed view and the increased independence sitting gives you for playtime. That said, it's still hard for you, so you tend to play on your back or your tummy a lot still.
I love that when I put you in your crib to go to sleep, you follow me with your eyes as I leave the room, smiling the whole way. The top of your head is to the door, so you watch me as I walk past your left arm, looking over your shoulder and craning your neck until I close the door and disappear out of sight. Sometimes, you use the slats of the crib for leverage or just roll onto your side for the best view. One day you'll realize you can roll from your back to your front to make this ritual easier, and then you'll be on your tummy and completely disinterested in sleep, and all bets will be off. But until then I love this little moment we share.

I find myself crying often these days, already feeling nostalgic for these days when it was you and me. I go back to work on Monday, and you will begin daycare, and the thought of it just breaks my heart. I know that Miss M will take great care of you and that you'll love getting to spend time with the other kids, watching them and learning from them. You'll enjoy play-doh time and dance time and playing with her dog in the park. But I also know that I'm going to miss you so much. I'm going to miss your no-longer-quite-so-gummy smile and your laugh, miss watching you play with your feet whether they be bare, stocking, or shoed, miss giving you lunch and having mouthfuls blown back at me when you decide to do raspberries mid-bite. I'm scared I'm going to miss your big moments -- your first time pushing up on hands and knees, your first words, your first steps. But most of all, I'll miss you. I'm not sure whether I'm more scared that you'll miss me terribly or that you won't miss me at all.

I love you so much my heart aches just thinking about it. Leaving you on Monday morning will be the hardest thing I can imagine doing, but there just isn't any other option for our family. These past six months with you have been so amazing and so perfect, even in the roughest and most difficult moments. I know you won't remember them, but I'll cherish them always. I promise you that I'll be thinking of you from the moment we drop you off until the moment I get home in the evening. And the morning and evening will be my favorite part of the day, the weekend my favorite part of the week, because they'll be the times I get to spend with you.

I love you with all my heart,

Mommy