How on Earth is it already Wednesday? It feels like it should still be a lazy weekend day - and it certainly doesn't help that its a rainy day here in NoVa.
Anyway, I'm sure you've all been wondering where I was since undoubtedly your days were not complete without having a new blog post from me to read. Well, dear reader, I went home this weekend to spend some time with my Mom. It was her birthday and it's been over a month since I've seen her so I left The Hubs home with our two dogs and Michael and I drove up to Philly.
Now the trip from DC to Philly is an easy one, since it is straight up the 95 corridor as it's called. But while it may be easy in terms of the lack of twists and turns, the traffic on 95 on a Friday in the summer is legendary. I had the good sense to leave work at 12 and drive up there with Michael in the middle of the afternoon instead of waiting to deal with rush hour traffic AND shore traffic but as we all know the more I plan the more things go to hell in a hand basket. Now, the drive wasn't all that bad but have you ever been stuck in Jonas Brother's World Tour traffic? The bumper to bumper kind of traffic as parents try to get car loads of screaming teeny boppers to the Wachovia Center in Philly? And while stuck in that traffic, have a crabby, teething, screaming 8 month old in your backseat? To quote all my new little friends, oh my Jonas.
But once we got over that hurdle it was a good weekend. I spent a lot of time with my Mom, which I think we both needed. It still amazes me how my relationship with my Mom has changed since I got pregnant and most of all since Michael has arrived. My Mom is my hero - The Hubs was in Iraq when Michael was born and so my Mom stepped up in a big way. She made sure I had help getting things set up for Michael's arrival, she was the one with me in the hospital and I moved back into my parents house for 3 months while on maternity leave so she could help me. She was less a grandmother and more a co-parent during that time and I can honestly say that without her I wouldn't not have made it through those first few months with a single shred of sanity.
I look at Michael and wonder if we will get to this point where I am with my Mom. I'm not one of those people who say that my Mom is my best friend but I don't need or want her to be. I want her to be my Mom. The one person who will always love me, who will always take me in and always tell me when my pants are too tight. I want Michael to know when he grows up that I am always on his side, but that I will also tell him when he is being a jerk. And that even when he is, I'll love him anyway. I know that my Mom does.
July 29, 2009
July 22, 2009
Just in case
I'm heading out of town this weekend to visit my family with the baby and packing for a weekend requires the following:
- Sheets and blankets for the pack and play. And an extra set, just in case.
- An outfit for everyday. And an extra outfit for everyday, just in case.
- A long sleeve, long pant outfit. Just in case it gets cold.
- A sleeveless creeper. Just in case it gets really hot.
- A sweater. Just in case it gets chilly, but not cold enough for the long sleeve, long pant outfit.
- Footie jammies. And an extra pair, just in case.
- A onesie. Just in case its to warm for the footie jammies.
- Another onesie. Just in case something happens to the first one.
- Tylenol, Motrin, Mylicon, nail clippers, a thermometer, boogie sucker and two kinds of diaper rash cream. Just in case.
Notice a theme here? Just in case. Everything I do these days involves planning for the just in case. I can't go to the grocery store without planning for the just in case scenarios - What if the car breaks down? What if Michael has a blowout in the store? What if we are caught in an overnight hostage situation?
Ok, maybe that last one is a stretch, but seriously what do people do when they are held hostage with a baby?
I thought I would be the fun, impulsive Mom who would wake up and conquer the world each morning with my baby in my arms. And I am trying, its just that I need to add a diaper bag, a small rolling suitcase and a cooler to that image. Just in case.
July 21, 2009
Now that's a good thing.
No Martha, not an egg laid by my own free-range, vegetarian chicken, or a watermelon gazpacho or even pressed flowers made from flowers grown in my own garden before the first frost. I'm talking about sleep.
Michael has always been a good sleeper - he slept 6+ hours one night when he was less than a week old. We've never done any sleep training or had major struggles with him waking up for middle of the night feedings. We have a great routine (bath, books, bottle, bed) and I am more than willing to follow that routine until he leaves for college if that is what it takes for him to sleep. However, just because he is sleeping doesn't mean that I am.
If you were to look up "anxious first-time mother" on Wikipedia I am almost certain my picture would be there. So just because Michael has been sleeping through the night doesn't mean that I am. While visions of sugar plums dance through other people's heads at night, my dreams are full of worries about whether or not my child is too warm, too cold, squished in the corner, breathing or if he can reach his ugly doll. These worries wake me from a dead sleep at least twice a night so I can stumble to his crib (yes, my 8 month old still sleeps in my room, get over it) to check on him.
Now those sleep interruptions are what happens on a normal night. Then there are the nights like last night, where teeth, boogers and belly aches make sleep impossible for anyone in the NoVa household. The standard routine is Michael starts to wake up so The Hubs and I both wake up as well. He tells me to stay in bed since he isn't working right now, which is very considerate of him however, this is the same point at which all hell tends to break loose. The Hubs does all he can to get Michael back to bed (diaper change, boogie sucking, bottle, Tylenol, you name it he tries it) but 90% of the time this is unsuccessful. I lay in bed the whole time listening to my child scream, asking if The Hubs wants my help which of course, he does not. An hour of screaming (Michael), crying (me) and frustration (The Hubs) later, he finally hands Michael over to me. Within five minutes the child is sleeping again and I lay him carefully back into his crib and fall back asleep. Knowing of course that this entire routine will be repeated in the next 2 or 3 hours when his current dose of Tylenol has worn off.
So here I sit, a total of four hours of non-consecutive sleep under my belt, bags under my eyes and two Coke cans already in my trash can. It used to be that my fantasies involved bubble baths, candles and The Hubs. Now I fantasize about my bed, empty. Just me and my pillow.
Sleep, it's a good thing.
Michael has always been a good sleeper - he slept 6+ hours one night when he was less than a week old. We've never done any sleep training or had major struggles with him waking up for middle of the night feedings. We have a great routine (bath, books, bottle, bed) and I am more than willing to follow that routine until he leaves for college if that is what it takes for him to sleep. However, just because he is sleeping doesn't mean that I am.
If you were to look up "anxious first-time mother" on Wikipedia I am almost certain my picture would be there. So just because Michael has been sleeping through the night doesn't mean that I am. While visions of sugar plums dance through other people's heads at night, my dreams are full of worries about whether or not my child is too warm, too cold, squished in the corner, breathing or if he can reach his ugly doll. These worries wake me from a dead sleep at least twice a night so I can stumble to his crib (yes, my 8 month old still sleeps in my room, get over it) to check on him.
Now those sleep interruptions are what happens on a normal night. Then there are the nights like last night, where teeth, boogers and belly aches make sleep impossible for anyone in the NoVa household. The standard routine is Michael starts to wake up so The Hubs and I both wake up as well. He tells me to stay in bed since he isn't working right now, which is very considerate of him however, this is the same point at which all hell tends to break loose. The Hubs does all he can to get Michael back to bed (diaper change, boogie sucking, bottle, Tylenol, you name it he tries it) but 90% of the time this is unsuccessful. I lay in bed the whole time listening to my child scream, asking if The Hubs wants my help which of course, he does not. An hour of screaming (Michael), crying (me) and frustration (The Hubs) later, he finally hands Michael over to me. Within five minutes the child is sleeping again and I lay him carefully back into his crib and fall back asleep. Knowing of course that this entire routine will be repeated in the next 2 or 3 hours when his current dose of Tylenol has worn off.
So here I sit, a total of four hours of non-consecutive sleep under my belt, bags under my eyes and two Coke cans already in my trash can. It used to be that my fantasies involved bubble baths, candles and The Hubs. Now I fantasize about my bed, empty. Just me and my pillow.
Sleep, it's a good thing.
July 20, 2009
Why I started this blog
On January 1, 2008 I started to blog. Recovering from a night of good food, better friends and entirely too much champagne on my husbands bathroom floor I decided that my New Year's Resolution was going to blog everyday for one year.
A picture of that blog is currently featured on FAIL Blog under New Year's Resolution: FAIL.
You see, 2008 was a year of huge changes for me. The blog started as a place where I was trying to figure out how to get my feet back under me after one hell of a 2007. I got married, my husband volunteered for a third deployment to Iraq, I had a miscarriage, my marriage nearly imploded and that's just the highlight reel. I was in a gray, cloudy place in my life where I knew what I wanted but I couldn't see how to get there through the fog.
That blog was titled "Sometimes I Feel Lucky" because I knew I was, but I just wasn't in a place where I could see it and I was hoping that blogging for a year would help me better appreciate what I had. And it did. But life went on as life goes and 2008 turned out to be just as eventful as 2007. I found out I was pregnant early in the year, my husband left for his deployment, I took on a new job with more responsibilities less than a month before I left on maternity leave and embarked on life as a (temporary) single mother. What I discovered was that the person who started 2008 in such a fog had stumbled through and I found it hard to continue writing in that blog because it was created for a person I wasn't anymore. Even though I wanted to somehow chronicle that change and include it for all to see, I wasn't even sure how I got from point A to point B myself.
So I made the decision to start a new blog. I imagine that there will be less soul searching, finding myself type of posts here and more information about cloth diapering, organic foods and home baby food making with a fair mix of thoughts on balancing work/life/baby and keeping my house clean. I'm sure there will be some deeper posts as well but that's not going to be the point of this blog. This is more a blog about reaching a point where I can look around and see that I have it all, even if having it all doesn't look like what I thought it would.
I'm not the best writer out there, but I hope you'll join me. Hopefully we'll have some laughs together, share thoughts and make it through another day realizing that we are one of the lucky ones.
A picture of that blog is currently featured on FAIL Blog under New Year's Resolution: FAIL.
You see, 2008 was a year of huge changes for me. The blog started as a place where I was trying to figure out how to get my feet back under me after one hell of a 2007. I got married, my husband volunteered for a third deployment to Iraq, I had a miscarriage, my marriage nearly imploded and that's just the highlight reel. I was in a gray, cloudy place in my life where I knew what I wanted but I couldn't see how to get there through the fog.
That blog was titled "Sometimes I Feel Lucky" because I knew I was, but I just wasn't in a place where I could see it and I was hoping that blogging for a year would help me better appreciate what I had. And it did. But life went on as life goes and 2008 turned out to be just as eventful as 2007. I found out I was pregnant early in the year, my husband left for his deployment, I took on a new job with more responsibilities less than a month before I left on maternity leave and embarked on life as a (temporary) single mother. What I discovered was that the person who started 2008 in such a fog had stumbled through and I found it hard to continue writing in that blog because it was created for a person I wasn't anymore. Even though I wanted to somehow chronicle that change and include it for all to see, I wasn't even sure how I got from point A to point B myself.
So I made the decision to start a new blog. I imagine that there will be less soul searching, finding myself type of posts here and more information about cloth diapering, organic foods and home baby food making with a fair mix of thoughts on balancing work/life/baby and keeping my house clean. I'm sure there will be some deeper posts as well but that's not going to be the point of this blog. This is more a blog about reaching a point where I can look around and see that I have it all, even if having it all doesn't look like what I thought it would.
I'm not the best writer out there, but I hope you'll join me. Hopefully we'll have some laughs together, share thoughts and make it through another day realizing that we are one of the lucky ones.
If you are lucky enough to find a way of life you love,
you have to find the courage to live it.
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