When you take your child to the pediatrician it is a world full of enormous information and confidence building. In the early months, as a nursing mom, I was anxious to get him on that scale to ensure that I was not starving him to death. Initially my little piggy did not disappoint as he was 3 ounces over his birth weight 3 days after birth and a whole pound and some ounces a month after. Little did I know that the pediatrician's office was also a secret site of information gathering and guilt building for new mommies.
It goes like this: The nurse asks you a handful of questions when you get there, which are the same each time (don't they save this info?!) and then pecks in your child's weight, length, and head circumference in the computer. The doctor then comes in, greets you with a smile, comments on how great X is looking, and then goes over to that screen of shame. She pulls up the growth charts that look like some evil reminiscent of my research in education class at ODU, whips the screen around to the nervous parents, and points to a little x that marks where you child is. Consider the lines like a rainbow of percentiles, the top of the rainbow being the 90th percentile, the bottom the 5th. If I can remember what that means from that evil class, that if you child is in the 80th percentile, that they are growing in the range above 80% of the rest of the children. That being said, my child would basically be sitting in a pot of gold. (which doesn't sound too bad to this stay at home mom..) His little x just hangs out on the bottom of the screen, where the doctor is always quick to remind me that his parents are not large people by any means so we shouldn't expect him to be on the top there. Enter my new friend guilt. After being the sole provider of my child's nutrition for over 6 months, I felt like I was creating milk that must be like air and am leading my child to a life of short jokes and beanpole jabs. This coupled with so many people looking at me in a shocked manner when I tell them his age and they say "wow, he's so small" For a bit there, it was hard to make milk when you have a giant monkey on your back.
I took my son for his 9+ month checkup with my head held high and confident that his growth would make that little x climb up that rainbow. We have entered the world of solid foods which my child has taken up a love affair with. His clothes are rapidly shrinking, as I am realizing that there are things that he has yet to wear! I digress. My husband and I both just knew our son was going to be at least 20 pounds, where I had visions that we were going to have to go buy all new clothes and that 'big boy' car seat in the very near future. Alright, so he was more like 17lbs 12oz, but I still held on to hope as the nurse typed the info into the computer. In strolls the doctor, and as the screen is turned in our direction, shock and guilt quickly push those confident feelings over the ledge as his little x was STILL there on the bottom 5.
I know that this charting really doesn't matter as he is happy, healthy, and sleeps through the night with a full belly each night. Maybe this is the start of a set of neurotic parents and a lifetime of competition with the rest of the world.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
I want to ride my bicycle!
We broke down after being influenced by a friend with a baby around our son's age and got him a bike seat. I painstakingly researched the ins and outs of baby bike safety, got him a sturdy brain bucket as my hubby calls it and off we go!
I have to say that my bike is my chariot of summer that I have been missing terribly, but this bicycle built for two will be seen all over the trails now buddy!
Sunday, August 14, 2011
The World is Over as I Know It
My son made great leaps and literal bounds in life today!Looks like I need to finish the babyproofing pronto.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
More things I've Learned....
1. If baby is happy playing with something or somewhere, LEAVE THEM THERE.
2. Also if baby is sleeping, see above.
3. Velcro tabs on cloth diapers become interesting for a 9 month old.
4. As does their privates.
5. Baby will go through a strange period of wakefulness about every 4-6 weeks. Why? No clue, just roll with the lack of sleep and keep the routine sacred.
6. Yet, routines CAN be broken.
7. Babies eventually get frustrated with their lack of mobility.
8. A baby can roll across a room in less than 10 seconds.
9. Singing louder in the car does not make baby less happy to be in car seat.
10. Yes, they can STILL be hungry.
2. Also if baby is sleeping, see above.
3. Velcro tabs on cloth diapers become interesting for a 9 month old.
4. As does their privates.
5. Baby will go through a strange period of wakefulness about every 4-6 weeks. Why? No clue, just roll with the lack of sleep and keep the routine sacred.
6. Yet, routines CAN be broken.
7. Babies eventually get frustrated with their lack of mobility.
8. A baby can roll across a room in less than 10 seconds.
9. Singing louder in the car does not make baby less happy to be in car seat.
10. Yes, they can STILL be hungry.
Monday, August 8, 2011
It ain't easy being green
The grass is always greener. Maybe it is our privileged American upbringing that makes us feel that we deserve more and better as well as deal with those pangs of envy when we don't. I admit that I have been bitten by the green-eyed monster in parenting lately and even admitting so is slightly embarrassing as everything is wonderful with my child. But this is my blog and I feel that I can vent to it as necessary since I am sure that someone else has also felt these feelings.
I'll start small. I am currently surrounded by either brand new babies or folks on the cusp of delivery. The feeling from this is great, as now people can finally understand what we have been going through the past 9 months! All of those fumbles and tribulations can translate into hopefully helpful tidbits for others braving those first few months. Yet, I am a bit envious of their status. Let me correct myself, I am NOT envious of the sleepless nights and zombie days, the lack of control over my own body, and the panic stricken doubts of "Am I doing the right thing?" No way. It has more to do with the emotions that encompass your body as you learn about your baby. Nearly everyone that we saw those first weeks said these newborn days pass quickly and to enjoy them, and at that point I wanted to hand my son over to them gladly so they could relive them while I got more than 2 hours of consecutive sleep. Alas, they were right. I do miss those floppy days where he was perfectly content to lay on our chests and sleep after eating. Now I am lucky to get him to sit still so we can squeeze a burp out. Those feelings of excitement as your baby is finally here and you try to learn every inch of them. Now there is no learning body parts, we have to practically restrain him whilst giving him a bath, leaving me hopeful that I at least got the important parts wet enough to call them clean. You may read this and say that I am being petty, but I am sure that no matter what age your children are, being in the presence of a new family brings up the whimsical side of you. Even in this nonemotioned momma here.
Now for the bigger patch of green on the other side of my fence. The world is full of stereotypical roles that each of us may or may not fall in. I am now entering the role of 'mommy' in which I had envisioned myself as being able to stay on top of each item on my housewife to-do list and being the absolute apple of my son's eye. Enter my husband and his role; 'daddy'. My husband is a one of kind father. When you see someone with their child and think how that person was just made to be a parent, you will think of him. He will change a scary nasty exploded diaper (cloth at that!), he will get up with me when the baby wakes at night so I am not the only one up, will take the baby for an hour so I can get some things done, and most of all he LOVES spending time with his son. What could I possibly have to complain about here?! Nothing, except my asshole jealous side that crops up when I see my son laugh for his daddy. Sure mommy can make him laugh, but not so hard he snorts. I play with him in my own way and sing songs, but in comes daddy and steals the limelight with his dramatic silliness and eagerness to roll around on a dog hair encrusted floor that mommy has missed on her housewife duties. Sometimes I feel that I have now gained not one, but two children. What is the problem here??? The answer came to me when I was attempting to calm the child down for a nap after a rowdy romp with daddy, without much luck. The book was about a child getting ready for bed and all the things that were going on around the house while he was sleeping. And I loosely quote, mommy is in bed after tucking us all in and will arise with the dawn with a great big yawn. Hmm what about daddy? The child goes on how he giggles when he hears daddy snore and cannot wait to wake so they can laugh and play some more. AH-HA! There it was staring me in the face plain as day. Somehow mommy is synonymous to doing all of the child-rearing work and daddy is the super fun guy that swoops in and gets the child all riled up gives the baby back to mommy so that she can try to calm them down to sleep. I know that there are not any handbooks that are emailed to you when you give birth, but somewhere along the way I had thought that I would be the fun one since I was going to be with him all the time. Until all the business of raising a baby came to light. There are schedules to maintain so that meltdowns are avoided, food prepared in perfect non-choking portions, laundry that is done as certain parts of the day so that a cherished blanket is ready for bedtime, and meticulous bathing and lotioningplaytimes with the baby. Coming full circle to my point about missing the newborn days, I realized that these baby days are getting away from me and soon my son will want me to drop him off at a friend's house rather than roll around on the floor with me. I am taking some time away from the hectic home life to just enjoy my son, and I have to say that each moment helps bring me back to my regular shade of light tan.
I'll start small. I am currently surrounded by either brand new babies or folks on the cusp of delivery. The feeling from this is great, as now people can finally understand what we have been going through the past 9 months! All of those fumbles and tribulations can translate into hopefully helpful tidbits for others braving those first few months. Yet, I am a bit envious of their status. Let me correct myself, I am NOT envious of the sleepless nights and zombie days, the lack of control over my own body, and the panic stricken doubts of "Am I doing the right thing?" No way. It has more to do with the emotions that encompass your body as you learn about your baby. Nearly everyone that we saw those first weeks said these newborn days pass quickly and to enjoy them, and at that point I wanted to hand my son over to them gladly so they could relive them while I got more than 2 hours of consecutive sleep. Alas, they were right. I do miss those floppy days where he was perfectly content to lay on our chests and sleep after eating. Now I am lucky to get him to sit still so we can squeeze a burp out. Those feelings of excitement as your baby is finally here and you try to learn every inch of them. Now there is no learning body parts, we have to practically restrain him whilst giving him a bath, leaving me hopeful that I at least got the important parts wet enough to call them clean. You may read this and say that I am being petty, but I am sure that no matter what age your children are, being in the presence of a new family brings up the whimsical side of you. Even in this nonemotioned momma here.
Now for the bigger patch of green on the other side of my fence. The world is full of stereotypical roles that each of us may or may not fall in. I am now entering the role of 'mommy' in which I had envisioned myself as being able to stay on top of each item on my housewife to-do list and being the absolute apple of my son's eye. Enter my husband and his role; 'daddy'. My husband is a one of kind father. When you see someone with their child and think how that person was just made to be a parent, you will think of him. He will change a scary nasty exploded diaper (cloth at that!), he will get up with me when the baby wakes at night so I am not the only one up, will take the baby for an hour so I can get some things done, and most of all he LOVES spending time with his son. What could I possibly have to complain about here?! Nothing, except my asshole jealous side that crops up when I see my son laugh for his daddy. Sure mommy can make him laugh, but not so hard he snorts. I play with him in my own way and sing songs, but in comes daddy and steals the limelight with his dramatic silliness and eagerness to roll around on a dog hair encrusted floor that mommy has missed on her housewife duties. Sometimes I feel that I have now gained not one, but two children. What is the problem here??? The answer came to me when I was attempting to calm the child down for a nap after a rowdy romp with daddy, without much luck. The book was about a child getting ready for bed and all the things that were going on around the house while he was sleeping. And I loosely quote, mommy is in bed after tucking us all in and will arise with the dawn with a great big yawn. Hmm what about daddy? The child goes on how he giggles when he hears daddy snore and cannot wait to wake so they can laugh and play some more. AH-HA! There it was staring me in the face plain as day. Somehow mommy is synonymous to doing all of the child-rearing work and daddy is the super fun guy that swoops in and gets the child all riled up gives the baby back to mommy so that she can try to calm them down to sleep. I know that there are not any handbooks that are emailed to you when you give birth, but somewhere along the way I had thought that I would be the fun one since I was going to be with him all the time. Until all the business of raising a baby came to light. There are schedules to maintain so that meltdowns are avoided, food prepared in perfect non-choking portions, laundry that is done as certain parts of the day so that a cherished blanket is ready for bedtime, and meticulous bathing and lotioningplaytimes with the baby. Coming full circle to my point about missing the newborn days, I realized that these baby days are getting away from me and soon my son will want me to drop him off at a friend's house rather than roll around on the floor with me. I am taking some time away from the hectic home life to just enjoy my son, and I have to say that each moment helps bring me back to my regular shade of light tan.