Off the Charts

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. 

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!

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. 

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.  

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.  

The Good Letdown: It's Not a Club!

I happen to follow this breastfeeding blog just for some inside tips and commonalities that we milk mommas share.  Mind you, the majority of the time it deals with things that I am not interested in such as tandem feeding (ie nursing a newborn and an older child at the same time), and the benefits of nursing till the child goes to school.  Not my literal cup of tea, but to each their own.  Yet this past blog has really stuck with me.  Not so much that all of my mommy friends are breastfeeders, but some of the points she makes certainly make sense.  It is easier to relate to someone as a mother when they breastfeed their child as well.  You do not feel awkward pulling out the hooter-hider and feeding your child while having a conversation with this person. Other nursing moms are a wealth of information and support when things can get tricky even months past the early tough days!
 I really like her position on the unspoken guilt that some moms feel when confronted by another mom who did not have good luck with nursing and feels threatened by how well it is going for me. SO TRUE.  Parenthood is full of MANY unknowns and each and every one of us will rightfully question how well they are doing by using their peers as a barometer.  It is only natural for someone who is struggling with breastfeeding or conception, to postpartum weight loss, or organization of life to throw a shady eye your way.  We just need to have those supportive friends to fall back on when you might feel a tad guilty for what you are doing. Because you should never feel guilty when you are doing what is best for you and your child. 
Thanks Megz for the boost of confidence! 
The Good Letdown: It's Not a Club!: "Most of my friends are breast-feeders, it's true, and with the recent relocation to south-central Indiana, I'm seeking out women who breastf..."

"With great power comes great responsibility"

I find that my life is now lived in between napping schedules.  I know, I know, I swore I would NOT be the person who had the rigid nap schedules and that was chained to their house during certain times, but hey what did I know? This has been uncharted territory thus far and what I want and what really happens are two different ballgames.  There are two tiny windows of opportunity in the day. One lies between the morning nap and lunchtime, and the other is from 3 till about 5:30.  Both are small segments in the whole of a day, especially if you are trying to cram in all your days' errands in those tiny time frames.  And as mentioned before, the prep to leave the house takes a chunk of the pie out.  Yet, as I write this I feel that I have become that overzealous parent that I was afraid of!  What really will happen if we miss a nap? Will the world tilt on its axis differently?  Will the locusts take flight once again? No.  The baby will be a crying mess come 5pm but when that is the case, it really doesn't seem like it is the end of the world. 
 Yet there is that dang thing called responsibility.  I am in essence in charge of the way that the day pans out for my son which is wicked amounts of power.  So is it fair to have him become a sobby mess by the end of the day because I needed to drop the books off at the library and go to the store during a time that was convenient for me?  When faced with that dilemma, I feel super guilty about dragging him out of his bed and off of the sacred routine. I love my stroller aerobics class, but it falls at 10 am, right in the middle of nap time.  I used to drag him there 2-3 times a week where he would miss his nap,and literally be thrown off the rest of the day.  Did it really matter to him? Not so much, he was tired and didn't know why.  But there I was, surrounded by this swarming guilt that I caused him to be cranky because I wanted to work out during that certain time. He would seem to look at me come 4:30 with his tired red eyes like why am I so stinkin tired momma? And there she goes, the guilt blanket resides on my shoulders.  As I have watched many a makeover show about women who lose themselves while being a mom, I stoutly told myself that I would not do that.  And to credit myself I do feel that I have done a good job so far as I have fallen back into my other love, running.  Yet, there are times when I am running during the hottest part of the day as it is more conducive to nap time.  We all have to make a compromise when it comes to parenting, I am choosing not to lose myself and to embrace my new role simultaneously. 

I guess lack of bumpers are a good thing..