More thoughts on weaning

The weaning has been going ... okay. I wouldn't say fantastic and I wouldn't say horrible. Just okay.

The first night, Friday, it was fine. However, last night I could tell Monkey was yearning for the Mommy Milk. He went to sleep with a little fuss but it went relatively smooth. I think I was just feeling more guilt about it than anything else.

Then at 2:30 am this morning, Monkey awoke, very upset and I tried comforting him. I gave him some Motrin (he's teething as well) and then I held him while sitting in the chair in his room. He seemed very comforted by that. I think we sat there for about a half hour and each time I tried to put him back into the crib, he'd scream. I felt so bad. I just wanted to give it to him. My breast was humming and his discomfort and longing for it didn't help(since he was about 6 months old, only one has produced milk). So I got DH up and asked him to put Monkey to bed. DH gave him a bottle (I was hoping to not start a middle of the night bottle habit but oh well) and that seemed to calm him down. I'd say within about 10 minutes of DH taking over he was asleep. The book I've been using as reference said we might have to do this.

Earlier today, I had to pump a little just because I couldn't stand the engorgement any longer. In the middle of pumping, Monkey walked into the room and saw me doing it. Maybe it was perceived but the look on his face seemed to me like betrayal. I felt horrible.

So far tonight though, it's been okay. I gave Monkey his last bottle for the night as we laid in mommy and daddy's bed. When he was done with the bottle, he handed it to me. I sat it on the nightstand and when I turned back around, Monkey snuggled up to me putting his arm around my neck. It was like he knew that the breast wasn't available and that he'd have to settle for this. We sat there for about 15 minutes. I rubbed his back and played with his hair as I would normally do while breastfeeding. When I saw that he was getting sleepy, I picked him and took him into his room.

Monkey fussed a little when I put him into his crib and he's decided that he doesn't like his blue stuffed monkey anymore. Tonight, he wanted the Disney bear. I read him 3 books and he just rolled over onto his stomach, head turned away from me at the end of the third.

I said, "Night Night."

He said, "Nie Nie", his version of "Night Night" and simply stayed on his stomach, head turned away.

I'm very sad right now. I know this had to happen sometime and I was starting to feel awkward about the shirt lifting thing but now, I'm wondering if I can continue the weaning after I'm done with the medication. I guess we'll just have to see how we hold up.

BTW, this thing is hanging on like crazy so I hope none of you out there get it!

Mixed emotions about weaning

This weekend we're going cold turkey from breast feeding. I've been thinking about it in the past month or so but reluctant because 1) I'm lazy, 2) I know I'm going to miss that special time with Monkey, 3) it means he's no longer my little baby.

The reason isn't quite what I had envisioned but it seems like a sign or an opportunity to do so. You see, yesterday morning I awoke with a little tickle in my throat. I didn't think anything of it and thought that the antibiotics I was already on for another issue would keep it at bay. But by late last night, I was feeling really bad and didn't fall asleep until 4:00 am this morning due to sore throat and sinus drainage bothering me.

After I dropped Monkey off at the sitters, I called the doctor's office and they set me up with an early appointment. As soon as I hung up the phone, I felt a rumbling in my stomach and I realized I needed to head back home FAST. I made it just in time.

I saw the nurse practitioner and he said that I had this virus that's been going around. He had seen a lot of it this week. It's a combo head cold and diarrhea thing -- seemed weird to me but apparently others have had the same combination of symptoms. He prescribed two cough medications, both of which you aren't supposed to use while breast feeding (according to Monkey's pediatrician). One to take during the day and one at night which will knock me out.

After talking with DH about it, we agreed that maybe this is the time to wean. I could still pump and dump to keep the supply going while on the medicine but I've always hated pumping. I like breast feeding but the pumping, ugh. So boring. And we're down to only 2 feeds a day on the days he's in daycare so it shouldn't be too bad. As a matter of fact, tonight he went to sleep so readily. I just hope the rest of the weekend and weeks to come are as easy.

Still each time he reaches up for it or lifts my shirt or head butts my boobs (signs he wants milk), I know it's going to be sad moment for me to refuse him, distract him or just hand over a bottle. I will have a hard time not giving it to him. It had to happen sooner or later.

My son, the song writer

Monkey has started to put a lot of noises together ... words to him but definitely in a language DH or I cannot understand. But just before we left for the beach, he started singing. Making up his own song even. I'm going to try my best to describe it phenotically.

Did-doe Did-doe, De-doe, De-doe, Did-doe Did-doe, Da-doe, Da-doe

It's pretty much the same each time he sings it and as far as DH and I can tell it doesn't resemble anything he or I have sung to him. So it's his own special song.

Bitter sweet return

Our trip to the beach didn't go quite as I had planned. But we had a good time anyway, especially Wednesday night when Monkey's aunt and I went out dancing ... Thursday morning? Not such the great morning for La Folle. I'm getting too old for that crap. Lesson learned, moving on.

We didn't go to the beach as much as I would have liked or the Boardwalk for that matter. But we got some rest and Monkey had some real quality play time with his cousins. Overall, I'd say he did pretty well. Especially considering his cousins are a bit older than him but he proved that he could hang.

DH was ready to leave but I wasn't quite ready. However, given the status of Monkey's sun poisoning (it's not red anymore but still very bumpy), we decided it was best to leave a day early. Plus, it would give us extra time to relax at home and get things back to normal (i.e. the mountains of laundry to do and the unpacking).

We talked about next year's vacation and joked that maybe we'd tell everyone we were going away but really stay home. Then we discussed seriously what a good vacation would be for us now.

You see, the beach we went to is the one my parents took me to just about every summer when I was a kid. It's changed a lot and my perspective on it has changed as well. It's quite the party town now and while there are still a number of families and family-oriented places to go, the noise at night was almost unbearable. Plus, it didn't help that our condo was overlooking the main street of the beach town. I think this may have been the last time we go to that beach town which for me is a little disheartening.

DH's point was a good one though. Instead of focusing on a particular town or resort, we should focus on what we can do as a family, especially with Monkey. At his age, there wasn't much he could do other than sit on the beach or in his stroller while we walked the Boardwalk. He was too little for most of the rides and taking him to miniature golf was a really stupid idea. Not just because he got burned but also because he only wanted to run around and snatch up the golf balls everyone was trying to play with including those not in our party. So that really left the beach, the boardwalk, shopping and restaurants. Two of which we can do right here at home.

So next year, if we're still fortunate enough to be able to take a vacation, I'm really going to give this some thought. Perhaps until he's much older it's a better idea to just visit family and friends? Or perhaps the trips should involve more site seeing like zoos, aquariums and museums? At least I have some time to think it over.

Lil' Monkey doesn't like the beach

We've gone to the beach twice and he was starting to get used to it but he was very angry about the sand and very scared of the water. Guess my dream was full of it.

I didn't factor this fear and hate into the equation. Of course he would love the beach ... not so much. Of course he would like playing in the sand ... uh, yeah right. He loves bath water, of course, he'll love the ocean. Try again.

And then there's the blunder DH and I committed yesterday.

We were very careful to slather Monkey up for the beach trips. Put the borrowed rash guard on him and used the tent (this was more his idea because he hated the sand). Then we went to the mini golf. Forgot to put the sunscreen prior to leaving so we put it on AT the put-put.

Did you know it takes about 15 minutes for sunscreen to really take effect? Well, apparently Monkey was at the mini golf in the beating sun for 15 minutes too long ... or is it too early? Either way, he got sun poisoning. Little red bumps all over his back, even where his onesie covered.

We called the doctor today who recommended some Benadryl prior to bedtime which would relieve his still bumpy and red skin. He passed out and was definitely a little loopy taking his last bottle.

I feel like the most horrible mother on the face of the earth. Poor thing. So miserable. And even worse is the little voice in my head that keeps saying, "Damn, I was hoping to get some more color before leaving."

There's always next year I guess.

Riot Act

It's been a couple days since I've had a pissy post, so here we go. I've been read the proverbial Riot Act three times in the past two days. The one today though ... for some reason it really got my blood boiling. Maybe it all just built up. I dunno.

This morning I made an appointment for lil' Monkey to go see the doctor because he had a nasty fall this past weekend. Yesterday and this morning, he kept rubbing the side of his head so my paranoid brain is thinking, "Great, brain bleed." The appointment to the see the doctor was for 4:15 this afternoon. This turned out to be a good thing since I had to finish upgrading my client's system which I had been working on ALL weekend long.

Just before I was supposed to leave work, around 3:15, I launched ONE MORE THING (bad idea. bad, bad idea.) and of course, it broke several pages and I needed to fix it before leaving. So I ended up leaving at 3:40 and didn't get to the sitter's to pick Monkey up until 4:05. We were going to be late, there was no avoiding it.

Apology planned in my head, I went into the doctor's office and before I could even finish writing Monkey's name in the roster, the reception says, "Is this --monkey's name--?" Before I could say, "Yes," she interrupted, "Well, you're late. 10 minutes late."

"Yes, I realize this," I said.

"Well, we can't afford for patients to be late because it puts the doctors off schedule," was her response. First of all, it's 4:25, how many more patients are coming in at this point? It seemed to me her argument was flawed and was just arguing for the sake of arguing.

Normally, I would have backed down and agreed or uttered some other weak answer. But for whatever reason, today was not such a day.

"It's not like I MEANT to be late!" I snapped.

She backed down. But I was still fuming inside. I wanted to say, "Yes. As a matter of fact, I f*%king did it on purpose! We've been sitting in the parking lot just lollygagging around just to piss you off!"

Even as Monkey and I sat in the examination room, I was still thinking about it in my head. It really shouldn't have gotten to me so much but it did.

Monkey is fine although he gave the nurses and the doctor the riot act. He just was not a happy camper about the whole visit, even the weighing on the scale where he normally does well. So I guess we're even.

P.S. I should have added that we were told via phone the night the fall happened that we should just keep an eye on him. He was acting fine other than the rubbing and DH thought I should make an appointment just to ease our minds, especially mine.

Beach Nightmares

I never thought I'd ever put those two words together. I love the beach. Especially in the morning when you first wake up and can look out onto the waves. That's just lovely and a really nice way to begin your day.

However, I had a nightmare about the beach. We're going away soon ... yes, to the beach, how'd you guess? Anyway, I had a dream that lil' Monkey runs off into the water like a mad man and is instantly swept away by a wave. I haven't had it again since but the image of it keeps playing in my head. Then today I was talking to my company's CFO and he was describing how he basically played goalie between his daughter and the ocean. Sounds like fun. He did advise that one of those little life vests will give me better piece of mind. But Monkey doesn't seem old enough for the ones I've found on the web so far.

I'm hoping I won't be such a nervous wreck while on vacation this year that I won't ever want to go to the beach again (although I'm pretty sure DH wouldn't mind that at all since he hates being away from the game home for any length of time). So if any of you have tips on taking a toddler to the beach which might reduce either stress or paranoia, I'd love to hear them.

P.S. If any of you have tips on getting your toddler to keep his sunglasses on, that would be helpful, too! I bought him the kind with the strap but he still takes them off!

Squealing, Screaming and Screeching, Oh My!

Lil' Monkey has somehow, somewhere learned how to be VERY vocal in the past two weeks and not while using words. This seems to happen mostly in the car. A nice confined area where the boisterous nature of his vocalizations can reverberate. Sometimes he does it when he's upset, but mostly I think he's doing it as a learning process of what his voice can do. That or out of boredom.

Sometimes he'll give me a "warning scream". It's a breathy little noise, almost like he's about to lose his voice. "ah." Then the onslaught comes, "AHHH! AHHHHH! AAAAAAAAH!"

The squealing just comes out of the blue. "AAAIIEEEEEE!" His daycare provider says he kinda sounds like a little girl. At first I was a little offended by this comment, but it's true, he kinda does.

The screeching I'm finding hard to handle. It makes your heart stop and not in a good way. "EEEEEEEEE!" The shrill nature of it makes me tense up everytime he does it.

For the screaming and the squealing, I'll sometimes join in and imitate him. We then have a vocal tennis match, volleying our primordial noises back and forth in the car.

I've been reading The Happiest Toddler on the Block and the premise of that book is that toddlers are really just little Neanderthals trying to fit in millions of years of evolution into 3 years of growth. It makes a lot of sense and I while I haven't yet looked up what Dr. Karp has to say about this new "skill" my lil' Monkey has developed, I'm sure he'll somehow relate it to our caveman ancestry.

So here's to you my little Neanderthal, my lil' Monkey, "AAAAAAAHHH!"

A long, long weekend

Updated below

First, let me apologize for the stream of consciousness and grammatical errors you're about to endure, should you read on. I spent the earlier part of last week trying to put in as many hours as I could since I would have to take one of my three working days off for our trip to my MIL's in NC. We left Thursday night with the hope that if we traveled at night, lil' Monkey's schedule wouldn't be too messed up and he could sleep the whole way. That worked fairly well. He woke up a few times but didn't have any trouble going back to sleep.

While in NC, things went well in the sleep department, even better than it did for our last trip there. Monkey went to sleep without much fuss for both of his naps and at night. In fact, he slept longer than he usually does at home.

We originally intended to stay until Sunday morning but decided that the travel at night plan worked so well, we would do it again. Therefore, we left Saturday night. This time it didn't go so smoothly.

We had a late start since we wanted to have dinner with my in-laws prior to leaving. The Cracker Barrel we ate at was really slow. It was here Monkey started his fussing. Once dinner was over and we said our good-byes, we prayed that once he was in the car with a bottle full of milk, he'd be asleep in no time. Not so much. For about the first half-hour it was fussing, then crying, then screaming. We pulled over, changed his diaper and gave him another bottle with the understanding that if he got too bad, we'll turn around and go back to my MIL's house.

Luckily, that didn't happen. At this point, I was really looking forward to being home and I always have a difficult resolving the conflict I feel when plans are changed so drastically. For the next 2 hours, he slept.

When DH became tired and we changed drivers, Monkey woke up a little but fell back asleep with less trouble than previously. However, the rest of the way home, just about every half hour, he'd wake up a little fussing and whimpering and then fall back asleep. I'm not sure how DH slept through it but it was getting to me a little and I was really thankful when we arrived home.

Once at home, he woke up for about an hour and then went back to sleep and slept through the night. DH said he could see the comfort in lil' Monkey's face when he placed him in his crib.

On Sunday, he awoke with a fever of 101.6 and it stayed that way until he got up from his afternoon nap with a fever of 103.3. It was at this point we decided to take him to the hospital. I was so glad to have DH with me this time because I've been to the hospital so much with Monkey sans hubby. Again, they didn't keep us there long and informed us that he has the lovely coxsackie virus. Fantastic. What a way to end a tiring weekend and start my week.

I had a client meeting today that I needed to cancel. DH's car went into the shop prior to our leaving because it was having issues so our plan to drop him off at the car rental on the way to the sitter's needed to be rearranged. All of this was going through my head as the doctor told us of the diagnosis. I tried to rework the plan for the next day but was too tired and frustrated to think (as I mentioned earlier, it takes me a while to resolve that unsettling feeling when plans change).

So Monkey is allowed to go back to daycare once his fever is gone for 24 hours. I think he'll be able to go back in time for my next working day, thank goodness. He's fever has come down a lot but still around 100. I can tell he still feels a little under-the-weather because he's been fussy and not eating as well.

Once I'm rested, I have a few post ideas rattling around in my head from this past weekend I'll be writing soon.

UPDATE: Looks like Monkey will not be going to daycare anytime soon. His fever just won't go below 100. Ugh. Woe to me.

Monkey's first haircut

It's my 100th post and it's appropriate to celebrate it with a post about a significant event in my lil' Monkey's life. Today he got his first haircut.

We went to Cartoon Cuts following his afternoon nap so he'd be in better spirits. It would have been best to do it in between his morning and afternoon nap but we had my company picnic to attend so it didn't leave much time for us to fit in the haircut. He did very well considering it was his first time.

The lady sat him in the chair on the booster and put the strap around him so he couldn't fall off the chair. She put the cape around him and all was good. He was enjoying the cartoons on the television in front of him. Then she took the clippers up the back of his head rapidly about 3 times. I think the noise of the clippers scared him plus her holding the top of his head. It was at this point he became upset. To be expected really.

Once she turned the clippers off and started using the scissors for the top of his head, he calmed down a little. Not completely happy but not screaming and no more tears.

After it was done, she took the cape and strap off and Monkey practically leapt into my arms. He held on really tight and it was at that point I became a little verclemp and tried hard not to go into a full cry. Oddly enough, not because of what I had just put him through. I knew it was going to be a little rough. But more because my little baby boy now looked like a little man. I didn't think seeing his little curls shaved away would affect me this way.

He's a happy camper now and the "dapper gentleman" routine is much easier now at night. I have a few locks of those curls for keepsake. Just another event among many that will show me how much my little baby is growing.

Winter straight into Summer? Infancy to Terrible Twos?

I've heard from a number of people living in our area that we skipped Spring this year. While that's not entirely true, I understand why they would say it. We had about two weeks of nice 60s-70s weather I think and since it's been up and up and up. This past week reaching the 100s. Not the norm for this region.

On that same line of thinking, I'm wondering if my child just skipped being a one year old and went straight into the Terrible Twos? I'm probably overanalyzing and probably have no idea that what I'm experiencing now is NOTHING compared to what the Terrible Twos will actually be like. But here's what has been going on recently with the Monkey.

GETTING DRESSED: Hates it. Does not want clothing on. Will throw his back into an arch when trying to put clothes on and scream. Once the clothes are on, he's okay, it's just the getting them on that's such a major hassle now.

FOOD: When he's decided he's done with said food, he methodically throws each piece with exaggerated movement onto the floor (this one I find cute ... so far ... it does let me know he'd like to move onto the next course).

BEING HELD: He's turned into a bit of a schizo in this area. One minute wants to be held and carried around. To the point where if there's a toy on the other side of the coffee table he wants, he'll come up on my lap, wrap his arms around me and point. Then the next minute he's dead-weighting me and doing that arching back thing. I'm hoping this is just him struggling with the walking concept. He's so close but I think he gets nervous about letting go.

DIAPER CHANGING: Still an area of contention for us although I must say as long as I keep an arsenal of kiddie songs in my head and sing them very exhuberantly, he'll sit still for a little while. Most days.

SCREAMING: He learned whining a long time ago and I thought that was horrible making my chest hurt ... now he's amped it up a notch or two. Full bore screaming if he wants more Cheerios. If he wants down from the high chair. If he wants the balloon just out of reach. Although, I will admit I don't think he's reached Terrible Two status on this one yet. He's still very selective about when to use the screaming.

Some things have become a lot easier though. Bathing for instance. He's starting to enjoy it and has learned that he can play in the tub. Eating is another. While he may throw food when he's decided he's done with it, he is doing much better in the eating department than he was a few months ago. Another is playing on his own. While he's not quite to the point where he'll play on his own for a half hour or more, he's definitely starting to explore and play with things sans-Mommy. This provides me time to get things done without having to stick him in front of Baby Einstein or in the high chair with a snack so he'll stay out of the dishwasher (although I still Baby Einstein for showers).

Anyway, I'm thinking of getting a toddler book as I've reached the point where all of my baby books are of no use anymore (except the sections on illness). Maybe that will help me understand these new behavior developments.

Lil' Monkey's birthing story

Looking back and recounting it to others, Lil' Monkey's birthing story could be an episode of a comedy sitcom. Let me set the stage for you.

DH was presented the opportunity to go to Microsoft's Tech Ed event in Orlando for a week. For a software consultant, this is a rare and golden opportunity to learn new stuff and meet other key players in the industry. Problem was it was 3 weeks before Monkey was due. DH's argument was that he'd never come 3 weeks early, maybe 2 weeks, but not 3 weeks. We debated about it and agreed it was something he shouldn't miss. If I went into labor, he'd catch the first flight home and hopefully be there in time. After all, we'd been told by both the childbirth class teacher and my OB that the first birth takes longer.

So he went, leaving on a Sunday. I told work I would be working from home that week because less movement meant less chance for labor (in theory). My mother and grandmother came down to keep me company. This was a good thing. Mostly. You see, my mother is very neurotic and paranoid about everything (everything except smoking -- don't ask, that's another post). However, Mom helped fix meals, helped me do things around the house, etc. Grandmom recounted her four births which made me feel grateful that I lived in these modern times.

Wednesday night, while watching the Daily Show, I started feeling some pains. They're just Braxton Hicks, that's it. Calm down.

The pains started getting more intense, more frequent and the worse part, on a schedule. Not exactly, Braxton Hicks-ish. Crap. Should I tell or get Mom?

I called my mother into my bedroom and of course, she panicked and said we should go to the hospital right away. Trying not to get caught up in her hysteria, I called my OB. When my OB called back, she said wait until they're closer then go. I told my mother this, who by the way doesn't ever believe anything doctor's tell her, she knows best (reference previous comment about smoking).

"I don't know. Maybe we should go," she said.

"No, Mom. Let's wait."

So we did. She went back to whatever it was she was doing. I don't remember at this point. The Colbert Report came on and all was going well until Stephen Colbert signed off. I called the doc again. She said to go ahead, probably because she could tell I was worried, not because I really needed to go. You can read about that hospital visit here. I was only 1 cm dilated and hadn't effaced very much.

On Thursday, I had a salary review with the CFO of our company. All during the review I kept having pains. I even prefaced our meeting with, "I've been having some contractions so if I make a weird face, it's probably not because of what you are saying." He asked if I wanted to continue and I said that I did. I also had a previously scheduled appointment with my OB. Which was a good thing. She took a look and lo and behold, I had progressed to the point where she said I would be delivering within 12 - 24 hours. "You might want to call your husband," she said since she was familiar with the situation.

I called DH and he got the first flight home. He wouldn't be home until 7:00 that night. Of course my mother, ever the optimist said, "He's probably going to miss the birth. I knew he shouldn't have gone. What was he thinking?!" Of course I was thinking this too but didn't need reinforcement.

An hour before we were to go pick up DH from the airport, I started having contractions again. Again, mom wanted to go to the hospital. But since they were the same distance apart and same intensity as the night before, I said, "No. We're going to pick up DH." I asked her to drive and she did since I was in no shape to really drive.

As we arrived at the airport, I asked mom to go to the area where you can just pull up to the curb and pick up arrivals instead of parking and going into the airport. The contractions were still happening and I wasn't comfortable with walking the distance from the parking lot to the airport. So there we waited. And waited. And waited.

Finally, DH called and said that his luggage wasn't on the turnstile. Great. Of course this happens now. "Please just come out!" I begged.

"I should at least tell the lost and found," he argued.

"Fine." I stated.

By now, my mother was in full panic mode. "We should go! We should go! Just leave him here!" she kept saying.

"NO MOM! I WANT MY HUSBAND THERE! WE'RE SO CLOSE NOW!"

It was at this point an airport security guy came up to the car and knocked on the window. "Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to move your car. You've been here too long. You'll need to circle around." Before I had the chance to beg him to let us wait just a little longer, my mother blurts out, "My daughter's in labor!"

"Do you want me to call an ambulance or have our medical personnel come over?" he asked.

I should have been nicer but between my mother ramping up the mood of the car from orange alert to red alert and the contractions I was experiencing, I simply yelled, "No thank you! I just want my fucking husband!"

Yes, I cursed at that poor, poor man. He must have had a wife and children because instead of arguing, he just said, "Sorry ma'am. I'll give you another few minutes but then you'll need to move. Please let me know if you need me to get assistance." I wish I could find that guy and apologize.

Anyway, a minute later DH came out and I yelled, "You drive!" I knew I didn't want mom driving at this point because she was about to have a heart attack and probably in no condition to drive and neither was I. I told DH of the situation and he flew to the hospital. There was a whole argument about the amount of gas we had in the car and DH ended up blowing up at my mother but I won't go into detail about it.

At the hospital, they put me into triage and I had dilated another centimeter but nothing more. Once DH was there to comfort me and mom had gone outside to smoke her fretted nerves away, the contractions slowed down. Eventually, we were sent home, I think around 10:30. The details are fuzzy at this point.

The next morning at 4:00, the contractions were back. I waited longer this time. I didn't want to be sent home yet again. We went to the hospital around 8:00. They took me straight to the delivery room this time. No triage. So we were on our way.

The time between 3 centimeters and 4 centimeters seemed to take forever although I think it was only 2 hours. My original intentions were to wait until 6-7 centimeters to get the epidural but I just couldn't wait. As soon as I was eligible, I got it. DH said he could visibly see my whole mood change in my face when the drugs started to affect me. The doctor and nurses seem to all think I was one of those cases where the epidural actually HELPED me efface and dilate quicker because I wasn't so stressed. Within an hour of getting the epidural, I was pushing and about a half hour after that at 12:08, lil' Monkey was born.

He was so small and so cute. I was very proud of myself for having done it, although, what choice did I have at that point? The high I felt of having my little baby in my arms was definitely not from the drugs. It was just simply beautiful and extremely overwhelming to have a little person, full of life in my arms.

It's hard to believe he's a year old now. He's grown so much. And quite frankly, I've grown so much. The overwhelming feelings stayed after the birth and it definitely took me a while to become comfortable with my new role as mother. But no other experience in my life has proven to be so memorable or to have affected me so greatly.

I love you, lil' Monkey, and I look forward to every milestone, crayon drawing, bumps and scrapes, and whatever else life holds in store for you.

Childcare Appreciation

I know many people how have had issues with their providers and I always feel for them. I can't imagine not feeling comfortable with a situation that is not easily remedied for most people due to the amount of researching/applying/etc. that is involved. We've been blessed to have found our caregiver with relative ease, especially at the time we found her.

On Little but Loud, there is a wonderful post about appreciation for teachers. This along with some other events that have happened recently made me realize that I should make a point to let our caregiver know how much we appreciate her. I looked up "daycare provider appreciation" in Google and apparently, I've already missed it. It varies by state but seems to fall somewhere in the second week of May, near Mother's Day for most states. Guess that makes sense in a way since they are mothers/fathers by proxy.

I'm marking my calendar for next year to make sure I don't miss this event again. On Friday evening, DH and I were talking about doing something special for her after I told him about a discussion she and I had earlier that day. We're thinking perhaps we'll get her something really nice for Christmas this year. DH suggested a spa certificate or something so she can take some time for herself. Good suggestion, honey!

Listening to DH giving Monkey a bath ...

"Ahha! We've found GOLD! You've got a lot of gold in there!"

Monkey's been a little snotty lately. :)

Muddled

Did you ever have one of those days where you kept flubbing up little things along the way and each one built up under your skin making you just feel awkward or "off"? And the whole day was just muddled?

Lil' Monkey was a little cranky when he got up. Still half-asleep, I decided to breastfeed him. This wasn't right. I should have taken him downstairs and given him his breakfast (cereal, fruit or something). So that fouled up our morning routine. He didn't want to eat, even after I waited a half-hour to try. After trying in vein to get him to eat some pears and Cheerios, we went upstairs and I put on Baby Einstein (he likes it now) while I took a shower. This wasn't right either. Normally, he plays for a bit in the kitchen while I make his bottles for daycare. Because I was just not in our routine, we ended up running late. I hurried up to make the bottles 5 minutes before we needed to leave. Then I remembered I needed a new backup outfit for his bag. Then Monkey decided that he didn't want his shoes on but wanted to "pet the tree" instead (we have a small evergreen on our dining room buffet that he likes to touch) -- I normally enjoy letting him do this but the pressure of being late and just feeling out of sorts started to make me not such the nice mommy.

Irritable, I rushed to get him into his carseat and as I'm sure any parent knows, when you are in a hurry, they fight you about EVERYTHING. He was grabbing for the car keys, grabbing at the backseat mirror, leaning over the carseat so I couldn't get his arm into the strap.

Exasperated, I said, "UGH! Please just sit still so we can get going!"

Once we were in the car and moving, I realized that my reaction wasn't one I felt comfortable with -- not since I'd be dropping him off within a matter of minutes. I wanted to leave on a good note. Just before I took him out of his carseat to give him over to the sitter, I made sure to give him a couple kisses and tell him that I love him.

And that just was the way the rest of the day went as well. Little things just being slightly off.

I opened the letter from the specialist we're seeing tomorrow only to realize that I was supposed to fill out the forms and send them by mail PRIOR to the appointment. I've had the letter for a week or more. I kept telling myself, "You need to open that." But of course, I waited until the last minute. Hopefully, they'll still take us.

While working, I kept messing up the query I was working on to get data from one database to another. Starting over at least 3 times.

When I went to pick up lil' Monkey, his sitter said that he must be getting a cold. And indeed as I looked down at him, I could see the tell-tale running nose, watery eyes and those red circles under his eyes he's been getting when sick. "I'll have to stop by the store and get some Motrin on the way home," I said to her. Did I? Nooooooo. Went on auto-pilot and drove straight home. Luckily, we still have some Tylenol in the house.

Anyway, it's just been an off day. So I apologize if this post is a little muddled.

P.S. Tonight is the FINAL for DWTS! Be sure to watch!

First Mother's Day

Technically, last year was my first Mother's Day since I was pregnant with Monkey then. But for me, this year was the one that counted. I wondered for most of last week if DH would remember and what Monkey would "get" me.

DH did a fantastic job (as usual with occasions). While I was in the shower Saturday, after huffing furniture quickly from our basement to the middle level, flowers were delivered to the house. I walked downstairs and started talking about the "plan" for the rest of the day when I saw them. I was definitely shocked --flowers and EARLY at that.

They're beautiful and the card was very touching. I was verclemp after reading it.

Thanks babe. And thank you, lil' Monkey, for making my first Mother's Day a very special one.

I Will Survive

As this week's earlier post demonstrated, we dealt with yet another round of stomach virus in our household. After my previous post, my own stomach issues increased and only today am I starting to feel a bit better. LUCKILY.

You see, lil' Monkey decided this week that we're actually farmers and has been getting up and hour and a half earlier than usual (5 a.m. instead of 6:30 a.m.). I keep telling him, "We're NOT farmers! You need to sleep in longer!" But apparently he thinks owning two pairs of overalls equates to living on a farm. This morning, he actually awoke at 4:55 a.m. but I laid in bed listening and desperately hoping for him to go back to sleep. I gave up at 5:17.

So as I mustered up the energy to get up and start our day, I thought of Mario's farewell dance song this week from DWTS -- I Will Survive, by Gloria Gaynor. And that was my mantra for the day.

I needed this mantra because I also had a demo for my client today which I only found out about late Wednesday afternoon. Since I was terribly sick Wednesday, I opted for bedrest instead of work that day and that night. Which meant that I was up until 1:30 a.m. this morning working on the demo for this morning's meeting (and of course, couldn't fall asleep right away so I ended up getting about 3 hours of sleep).

The meeting, which was supposed to be from 11 a.m. - 12 p.m., lasted until 2:45 p.m. because of attendee who, well, let's just say he feels the need to flush out details which have been decided on ages ago. Not just once or twice, but sometimes up to five times. Gotta love consulting!

Anyway, this left me just enough time to drive from the meeting to go pick lil' Monkey up from daycare at 4:00 and pick up some lunch on the way. I was really hoping to fit even a half hour nap in prior to picking him up but alas, it wasn't meant to be.

P.S. I realize that I haven't posted a DWTS update in about 3 weeks and a Politics Wednesday post since March. I have thoughts and ideas for both and I promise I will be bringing something soon. However, seeing how I survived the day until this point, I will be treating myself to some recorded Lost and an early bedtime. Plus, my parents are coming down tomorrow to help with the BIG MOVE, so I need rest up for that as well.

Also, lil' Monkey's diarrhea issue seems to be fading a bit since going off of the amoxicillin so I guess the sitter was correct about this one. Perhaps the three of us DID truly have different stomach things going on! Who knows at this point!

WANTED: Family-sized disease-free bubble

UPDATED BELOW

Seriously. Could we please have ONE more sickness this year? 5 months of on again, off again, runny noses, coughing, diarrhea, vomiting and general malaise just doesn't seem like enough. DO NOT read on if you are uncomfortable talking about bodily functions!

Monkey has been dealing with diarrhea since Friday evening. I thought it was "drool stool" at first because he's only had a maximum of 3 per day since that evening and has been drooling like a Saint Bernard. He's had one slight fever (again, in line with teething) and has been in pretty good spirits but not eating too well (per his usual).

However, the stools are just aweful and starting to turn colors (brown to orange, now yellow-orange) and DH is now sick (vomiting, diarrhea) as well. I, myself, had a looser bowel movement earlier today. So my hopes of Monkey's issue being drool stool are slowly fading away. I'm just hoping that the antibiotics he and I have been on for the severe sinus infection we shared two weeks ago is keeping the worst of this thing, whatever IT is, at bay. All I pray is that we don't have a repeat of our New Year's hospitalization party.

DH pondered if our HOUSE is making us sick. Not sure I even want to think about that or what that would mean in getting it diagnosed or resolved. I'm positive that if there's a company out there that specializes in this type of thing, they'd probably convince us of SOMETHING being wrong with our house, regardless of the truth. Our sitter says that this is just life with a kid but that they eventually get immune and YOU eventually get immune to most of the stuff floating around out there.

Anyone else feel like they've lived through one sickness after another since having a kid and is our sitter right? Does it slow down or go away eventually?

UPDATE: DH seems to think that lunch at Chicken Out yesterday was the cause of his woes (which is a shame because I really like that place). He actually filed a complain with the county health department! I was surprised it upset him that much. Anyway, Monkey has only had ONE and a half messy diapers today (I say "half" because it happened immediately after the first and I think it was all supposed to be ONE). Fingers crossed this is as far as it will go!

Afternoon Delight

So this afternoon, lil' Monkey and I had a wonderful nap after a stressful morning. As usual, when he awakes from a nap, I change his diaper.

Well, today, I opened his diaper and LO, and BEHOLD, he had a woody. Now he's had them before and I've never really mentioned it, but I thought I'd delve into the topic tonight.

It's definitely a strange feeling as a mother to change the diaper of your son whilest he has wood. It's horrific and cute at the same time, if you can imagine that (as I'm sure any mother of a son would agree, I hope anyway).

The aweful part is that because he's a boy, you need to put IT down before closing the diaper or risk a wet onesie come the next time he pees. I IM'ed DH afterwards to inform him of his son's "Afternoon Delight". DH has assured me that it doesn't hurt to put it down while in that state, but I still feel horrible everytime I have to do it. Not to mention that now does lil' Monkey not only know it's there, but has figured out how to undo one side of the diaper and touch it. So as I'm wrapping things up, he's trying to undo them. TMI?

Anyhoooo ... not sure why I'm sharing. Any mothers of sons out there have any thoughts on the matter or interesting antedotes?

I'm debating on whether to keep this up or not. I may give it a night and see if anyone comments and what kind of comments I get.

Soccer Mom -- Me?

So this morning, I went to the salon to get my hair dyed and cut. I decided to try out an Aveda salon about 20 minutes from our house. It had to be an Aveda salon because the last dye job I had was from an Aveda salon and it held nicely, didn't stink too much, and their products are fairly "green".

I met with the stylist. She was younger and had one of those really hip, edgy hair styles. Judging from the way she put her outfit together, she definitely wanted to stand out from a crowd. I can respect this. I used to do this when I was younger and I can admire this quality.

As we spoke about what my expectations were and I was describing what I wanted, "to have less layers and maybe take the length to about my chin", she said, "Oh yes, the bob is very D.C. soccer mom and very 'in' among them."

I paused. I think I even looked mortified and gulped.

Smile, La Folle. Smile and say something.

"Oh, well. Okay."

Not really the sentiment I was yearning to express.

I was thinking, "I'M NOT A SOCCER MOM!" I was thinking, "I WAS OUT CLUBBING AND GOING TO RAVES WHEN YOU WERE IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL!" I was thinking, "YOU PROBABLY HAVEN'T NOTICED THE HOLE IN MY BOTTOM LIP THAT HAS CLOSED UP OR THE HALF DOZEN EARRING HOLES!" I was thinking, "I'M COOOL."

Or am I? Does it even matter? Should I even be trying at this point?

I was seriously bothered by this. As I left, the words "D.C. soccer mom" kept running through my head. I opened the door of my "crossover" SUV, hopped inside and turned on the engine. Suddenly, my stereo blaring BT's Emotional Technology didn't seem so hip. Suddenly, I felt very OLD.

Maybe I should switch to Van Morrison. No, wait, screw that, Renegade Soundwave. HA!

I drove home with a very uneasy feeling and questions about my very identity. In college, I was an "out and about" type of girl. I wore baggy pants, cute little tight T-shirts that showed a little belly and used glitter on my face. Yes. Glitter.

The weekend started on Thursday, sometimes Wednesday and lasted until Monday morning. I can recall a conversation I had with the people I hung out with then (none of whom I know or would even know how to get a hold of now). The conversation was about how I wasn't going to drive a Volvo. I wasn't going to succumb to a job where I'd need to lose my identity (i.e. let the lip ring hole close up). I'D GET A JOB WHERE THAT WAS ACCEPTABLE.

Let's face it. There are few well-paying jobs out there where this is acceptable. Unless you're an extremely talented artist (visually or musically) or work for a very liberal company (which is practically impossible to find in this area), you have to conform. I worked for two different government consulting agencies since graduating from college, for pete's sake. They wouldn't have taken kindly to my lip ring. I remember struggling to let it go, too. One day I just resigned that part of my life was over and put the rings into a bag with other items we donated to Goodwill.

Did I choose money over my true self? Am I a "sell out"? Or have I just morphed into what I'm really meant to be?

Madonna is a mom. Madonna still dances. She's changed her image a million times. Yeah, maybe I'm morphing like Madonna has time and time again all of these years. Only I'm morphing into what my environment and my child requires. A socially aware mother providing a stable environment. Is that so wrong?

I think if there's one thing I've learned from pop culture and the generations before us who have shaped it, it's that the idea of "live free, die young" is no longer a real goal. Maybe the "leave a nice looking corpse" part still is with the botox and plastic surgery craze, but at least, it's acceptable to be older with children and still listen to new music, dance and do things that our parents wouldn't have considered doing.

In the end, I really like my new "soccer mom" longish bob. It will be easy to style and yes, I think it fits my identity. The one I own now, Mommy, Wife and HOPEFULLY, MILF. Hehe. :)