Something Changed
There's been this recurrent thought or series of thoughts running through my head the last year and I've been trying to wrap my head around them for some tme now.
Remember
the dresses for my brother's wedding? Well I ordered Option 1 and Option 3. Option one, the black and white one with the green sash didn't fit right. I don't think I could have taken a size larger or smaller, it just didn't flatter me. And Option 3...well, I should love Option 3, the strapless green floral. It fits well. I like the pattern. It hides my post-baby pouch. But I look at it and all I can think about is that I can't wear a strapless dress. Not because of any church rules or because I don't like strapless dresses. In fact, almost every dress I own is strapless. I just put this new dress on and I suddenly feel like I'm exposing too much. I feel like a 33 year old posing as a 25 year old. And then there's this question: do mothers wear strapless dresses?
Don't laugh, I'm serious. In many ways my life is so much more mult-dimensional now that I have Rolo. But something else happened too. It's like a switch flipped and I'm not the same person anymore. Which, like, duh, I guess on some level every new mother feels because all of a sudden, you have a new label: mom. This is different than what I antipicated though. I feel like a different person and that my former self is a stranger. Sometimes I feel like a stranger in my own skin. I'm not sure that it's good or bad, just different.
Some of it is a self-consciousness that I don't think I had before. I know I'm not the best looking girl in the room, but I was always fairly confident about how I looked. I was in tune with my own body. Now....not so much. Maybe because I have less (read: zero) time to focus on myself I'm not as in touch with my own self-perception.
Maybe because I know other people tend to, silently or otherwise, critique mothers fairly harshly (something I am guilty of myself) and now I assume people who either see me with Rolo or know I have him are doing that very critiquing of me. Maybe I don't want to wear a strapless dress to the wedding because people may think "Who does she think she is? Just had a baby and strutting in here in her little strapless number?" Maybe it's because my shoulders and arms used to be toned and now? Now I have that extra mom wave (you know when you wave your arm and fat on your bicep wiggles too). I'm not really suggesting that I have a weight problem, just a different-than-it-used-to-be body problem.
It's more than just this one dress. I go clothes shopping and rarely ever buy anything. I may try clothes on and they may fit fine, but I just...don't think I look good in most things anymore. I lack the desire to actually make purchases. And it stems back to having Rolo. Or maybe it was getting older? Is this what it feels like to get older? I've never felt old before.
Maybe I'm depressed? I don't think I am. I'm not sad or anxious. I just can't seem to reconcile my old self with my new self. Maybe it's just a body image thing. Maybe if I could ever get back to a gym, I would be able to purge all this from my system.
Labels: fitness, not the mama, random
Five Things I Unexpectedly Hate About Having a Kid
1. Fingernails.
And toenails for that matter, too. Impossible to cut. Or possible, as long as you're okay with taking the tip of your baby's finger off too. We used to be able to do it if Rolo was sleeping, but he never falls asleep while laying on us anymore, only in his crib. I try filing them down instead but he HATES it. Rarely does he throw a total coniption fit about anything, but he does about someone filing or cutting his nails. And nails grow like weeds. I'll commend myself on finally having wrestled with him and getting them filed short, and then like 2 days later they need to be done again.
2. The word "yet".
At the risk of sounding overly sensitive, the word yet is something I've grown to resent somewhat. So many people ask "Is he talking yet?" "Is he walking yet?" "Is he solving algebra problems yet?" It's annoying. Just leave off the word "yet" when asking the question.
3. Lack of Sleep.
I know, I know. You're probably thinking "What drug is she on that a lack of sleep wasn't expected?" It's not that I didn't expect. It's just that I expected it in the beginning. You know, the first few months. I am very, very lucky that Rolo started sleeping through the night, a whooping 10 or 11 hours straight, when he was 3 months old. But he'll have bouts of waking up in the middle of the night for a couple of nights in a row every once in awhile. I'm totally spoiled, but getting up in the middle of the night now irks me like nothing else.
4. Poop.
Again, what the hell am I thinking that poop is somehow unexpected? It's not. There is lots and lots of poop. In the beginning when your kid is having total blowouts and you're not so good at changing diapers, you wind up wearing more poop than you ever thought was humanly possible, but you're so tired you barely even care that you're a walking waste site. Then as the months pass your kid starts sleeping through the night, you get more rest, you start wearing clothes that match again, and despite mastering the art of diapering, you still occasionally, not often, manage to get a streak of poo on your hand. Or forearm. And it hits you: "There is another person's feces on me." You suddenly realize how very wrong this is, and regardless of the fact that it's your own kid (and despite how much hand/forearm washing you do), it becomes clear that no person should ever wear another person's poo.
5. Formula.
Seriously, for someone who never thought she'd breastfeed, you would think formula would be my best friend. But no. It's gross. It smells gross, it gets all over the counter and creates this paste that's nearly impossible to clean. It doesn't mix well with cold water. All of Rolo's dietary/allergy issues started when he started on formula. Not that that's a cause and effect thing, but it aggravated me just the same.
Labels: not the mama, parenting, Rolo
Further Experiments With Gravity
Proving that he's becoming more mobile, Rolo crawled right off the bed this morning. Fell straight on his head. Made a terrific THUMP and everything. It happened so fast (doesn't every neglectful mother say that?) that I didn't have time to catch him. One minute he was sitting up playing with his toys in the middle of the bed, as I observed in the mirror while putting on make-up. The next second, I see that he's on his stomach reaching frantically for a book on the floor. The time it took me to get from the mirror to the bed, was the exact amount of time it took him to fall.
This happens all the time, I know. Still, I called the doctor's office and they apparently have a whole "protocol" for this type of thing and so tonight I've got to wake him up throughout the night to ensure he rouses easily. Rolo enjoys his sleep, and never rouses easily so I'm not exactly sure this is going to be a useful exercise. I anticipate that both he and I will be tired and cranky tomorrow.
I'm not so worried about a concussion, although his head did make a terrific noise when it hit the floor, at least the floor is carpeted. I'm more worried that he's hurt his neck, since the rest of his body landed on top of his head when he fell. He seems okay, so I guess time will tell.
I had to call Ron and tell him I broke the baby. He was not pleased. I'm not all that pleased either.
Labels: not the mama, parenting, Rolo
An Open Letter
Dear Pampers,
I've been using your products since my son was born and just recently started buying him size 3 diapers. He's not yet nine months old. However, I couldn't help but notice that instead of
baby versions of Sesame Street characters (which are cute) that were on size 1 and size 2, size 3 has the
regular characters. Is this to indicate that he is now a big boy? Considering he will be in diapers for at least the next year and a half, I don't think it's too much to ask to leave baby characters on the diapers just a little bit freaking longer.
Screw you,
DJ Heavy
P.S. Regular Elmo is ugly.
Labels: baby, not the mama
Annoying Me
Dear Rolo,
It's been nearly a month since you learned how to roll from your back to your stomach. Could you please get on the rolling from your belly to your back part now? This is not a particularly difficult concept and frankly, most babies roll from belly to back first anyway. So what's the problem here, exactly? We've rehearsed this, this rolling front to back, ad nauseum. Yet, you still can't seem to understand that you need to move your arm out of the way to complete the roll.
In case this hasn't occurred to you, this non-rolling impacts me (of course, or else why would I care?). I'm the one who has to go rescue you at 3am when you roll halfway over onto your own arm, causing much screaming.
So really, if you could just get with the program and really focus next time I show you how to roll, I'd really appreciate it.
Love,
Mama
Labels: annoying me, not the mama
The Downfall of Having a Video Monitor
Since I posted last week, in a move that I can characterize only as being ironic, Rolo has decided that he will only sleep on his stomach. Each night since Thursday, he has at some point rolled over onto his belly and gone back to sleep. OF COURSE, he would choose to do tummy time during the only part of the day we don't want him to--just like his father, that one.
Now, they say once a baby can roll over, the chance of
SIDS is dramatically reduced. But since they don't know exactly why SIDS occurs and since the
"back to sleep" campaign is rammed down your throat from the moment you conceive, I'm a little wary of Rolo sleeping on his belly, particularly because he can't roll from his tummy back to his back. Of course, there's not much (or anything really) I can do about this sudden sleeping preference.
Overall, I love, love, love having a video monitor. It's a nice reassurance being able to see what he's up to without going into his room (I wonder if I can plant one of these in his room when he's a teenager?). But like last night? We looked over and realized Rolo was face down on his mattress. Like actually sleeping face down on top of his binky--binky still in his mouth. Of course, then, we panicked and Ron ran downstairs to make sure he was breathing. Dude, if you're going to insist on sleeping on your belly, you've got to at least turn your head to one side. Did you not get the memo that we are first time parents and will panic at the slightest provocation? Had it not been for the video monitor, we would have been blissfully unaware that he was face first in the crib. We spent the next hour looking over at the monitor--is he still breathing? Is his head turned to the side enough? What about now? Is he breathing now?
So Rolo may be sleeping just fine, but me? Not so much.
Labels: baby, not the mama, Rolo
It Could Be a Bug, or An Allergy, or Who the Hell Knows?
Please. Make. The. Puking. Stop.
Labels: baby, not the mama
Making My Blood Run Cold
Over here in the vortex of viruses, my pink eye is getting increasingly worse and I'm beginning to wonder whether I should call my doctor. Not only is it annoying as hell, but nothing can really make a girl feel more unpretty than something being wrong with her face. Like a bloodshot eye that's almost swollen shut.
So I got to thinking that I should cheer myself up with some shopping. I looked online at the usual suspects, namely Banana and Ann, to see if anything piqued my interest. And here's the scary part: nothing did. Oh, I saw some things I liked, but the thought of having to actually go and try things on...well, it seemed like too much effort. Perhaps some of you are thinking "I hear ya, sister!" but for me, this is very strange. I love trying on clothes. More, I love BUYING clothes. And yet I've had no desire to do so. Same thing with shoes. Now, I haven't been able to wear heels since Rolo was born. It's a long, sad story that I won't go into here, but next month I need to arrange to see a podiatrist, something I am totally dreading. Anyway, no desire to buy shoes either, not even fun ballet flats. I've been basically been living in my
Sketchers. I'm all about a comfortable shoe, but c'mon,
all the time with the Sketchers?
What is happening here, exactly? At first I thought, maybe I'm I just don't want to shop because I've gained a few pounds. But the more I think about, the more I don't think that's it. I'm just not interested. It's like I've forgotten the joy that is shopping.
And then I had a startling realization:
maybe this is how it starts. I've always railed on women who go out and get generic haircuts, start buying all their clothes at Walmart and drive mini-vans (shudder). But maybe they used to care. Maybe they used to be fashionable. Maybe they used to live their own lives. Maybe this, this not caring about shopping, maybe this is how it starts. Maybe by this time next year my hair will be frosted and I'll be wearing white knock-off Keds. People, that thought made my blood run cold. I haven't stopped shaking since.
Please tell me there is hope here. Please tell me that by having a child I did not commit myself to a lifetime of bad cars and polyester pants.
Labels: not the mama
One of Those Days
So far today the following has happened:
-I've called Rolo's doctor's office and spoke to a bitchy nurse about what appears to be pink eye.
-Realized I couldn't send Rolo to daycare, and also couldn't stay home from work because I'm incredibly short-staffed today.
-Had Rolo urinate all over me while taking his temperature.
-Headed to work with Rolo in tow.
-Realized that was a dumb idea.
-Went to pick up Rolo's eye ointment from the pharmacy, stopped off at home and seriously pissed him off by smearing the stuff all over his eye.
-Tried to head back to the office, but Rolo crapped everywhere.
-Realized I had no wipes in his room.
-Realized he tried to wipe his ass with his hand. Really needed those wipes.
-Screamed a little bit. Me, not him.
-Headed back to the office and realized Rolo had not napped all day. Tried to reconcile monetary transactions while rocking him.
And that's it so far. 2008 is GREAT so far.
Labels: not the mama
An Open Letter
Dear Rolo,
Despite what you may have heard on the street, an hour long session of baby babble is definitely NOT cute at 4am. See that it doesn't happen again.
Thank you,
Mama
Labels: not the mama, Rolo
More With the Boobs
I know, I know. When am I going to stop talking about my boobs? Believe me, I really can't wait until they don't take up a good deal of my waking hours either. Because the pressure, the pressure of needing to feed an infant, of worrying whether I'm producing enough, worrying about when to pump, really, it's starting to annoy me. Like on Sunday, I went to an Eagles game. And guess who had to pump in the parking lot while tailgating? Yeah, not fun.
Anyway, we may be making the move to formula soon. I'm sad about that. My supply is down again and this time it's not because I'm on the pill and frankly, I'm too tired to try to figure out what the reason is. Or if there's a reason. Rolo is eating more and with a diminshed supply, I can't quite keep up. Well, I'm making enough that I can get him through the day, but that's assuming he actually drinks whole bottles. There are times when I make up a bottle of what he usually takes, 5 ounces, and he only decides to eat 3 ounces. So that's 2 wasted ounces down the drain. And as much as I want to scream "How can you waste this? Do you not understand how precious the boob juice is???" I realize that it's much better to save any stories about my breastfeeding adventures until he's a teenager and will be truly embarrassed.
I've used almost all of the milk I froze when he was younger, so I don't really have much recourse but to go to formula soon. I think that makes me sad because even though I planned to go to formula in a couple of months, I wanted it to be a decision I made and not something I have no choice but to do. There's a chance my supply could all of a sudden rise again, but I'm not holding out much hope.
Labels: not the mama, Rolo
Crying It Out
Rolo's decided to go on strike from nap-taking today. He was very, very good while we were away and is now apparently making up for lost time. He's been up since about 6am and I've been trying to get him down for a nap since 11am. It's now 4pm. Which wouldn't necessarily been an issue except that he's been whining and whimpering since about noon.
Since diaper-changes, bottles, pacifers, rocking, walking and cuddling have not done the trick and because he's nearly three months old, I'm taking a "let-him-cry" approach now. Which is pretty much making me want to slam my head against a wall.
Labels: not the mama
Manic
Yesterday, after a lovely afternoon of coffee and drinks with Meg, I had just about HAD IT with Rolo. He went on a 2 hour crying bender when we got home for reasons I couldn't figure out. By the time Ron got home and I handed Rolo over to him, I was seriously considering moving out of the apartment.
I'm not sure why last night hit me so hard. Certainly, Rolo has had his share of crying fits before. It wasn't something that I couldn't handle. I think perhaps it was that Ron was out all day yesterday golfing and is working all day today. I think I realized how much I look forward to the weekends, because Ron will be home and will help bear the load that is caring for an infant. Weekends usually mean that I get out of the house a lot more. We almost always pack up the car and head
somewhere on a Saturday or a Sunday. My friends are super-fantastic about meeting me out for a drink or coffee, usually on a moment's notice, but in the end, that's about an hour or two a week. In fact, even though I do get out most days, it's usually not for long periods of time, and the reality is that I'm usually in my apartment about 22 hours a day.
I'm going stir crazy.
And I realized this last night, in the midst of Rolo's screaming, how dependent I've become on Ron to save me on the weekends. I count the hours until he gets home every night and look forward to Fridays with a ridiculous amount of enthusiasm. I dread Mondays like the plague. And so this weekend, without the hope of co-parenting, I was depressed. Not that it was really justified. Ron had to work today and of course, that's unavoidale. And yesterday with the golfing? It was the first time he's seen any of his friends since Rolo was born. Me? I go out with my friends all the time by comparison. So I can't fault him for golfing.
Today is a different day than yesterday and I'm not feeling nearly as bad. Something's up with Rolo though. He doesn't have a fever, but he's cranky and just not himself. I feel better about being home today. In three weeks I'll go back to work, and I know it's not likely I'll ever be home with him like this again. And that? That does make me a little sad. Funny, how I can love and hate being at home at the same time. I love it, because I know it's the best thing for him, but for me, personally, I can't stand it. I alternate between letting my selfishness get the best of me and feeling guilty that I've wasted time feeling frustrated. I feel...I don't know if guilty is the right word, but guilty that I don't always make spending time with Rolo my top priority. I wish I was the kind of person for whom mothering is enough.
The maintenance man in my building, Ernesto, who is a wealth of knowledge, advised me shortly after Rolo was born, "Enjoy this time with him even if it's hard. Too many people try to do other things while taking care of their children. Your children should be your real focus. Because you don't want to look back and realize you didn't spend enough time with them. You can't undo that."
Never again will Rolo be as little as he is right now. That's a thought that has repeated in my head over and over since he was born. And that makes me a little sad too, but in a sweet way, because I know one day I'll look back and wish I was still at home and that he was still a baby.
Labels: baby, not the mama, Rolo
Ringing True
I read Dooce's
post the other day and it really resonated with me. Particularly this part: "
Everything that they tell you about the love you’ll have for your child is true, but there’s all this other stuff that is true, too, stuff that you’re afraid to talk about, stuff that you carry around and try to hide. Stuff like resentment and fear and anxiety and longing."Now Dooce has a variety of mental health issues, including post-partum depression, but I don't think that's what she's talking about here. It's true, at least for me, that you love your child immediately, without even thinking about it. But there are those other feelings, feelings that I believe are normal, but that no one likes to talk about for fear of being under suspicion. There are lots of extremes in motherhood(and in pregnancy too for that matter) and it seems that if you have anything other than glowing reviews of motherhood, people assume you're on your way to being depressed. And in a majority of cases that's not true.
But it is true that you feel some of those other things Dooce mentions. I do not resent my child, because he's just a baby and it's not his fault he's here. But I do somethings resent the fact that my time is not my own anymore. That it's harder to get in and out of doorways with a stroller. That I can't just do whatever I want. That when I find something to wear that I actually look okay in, someone spits up all over it.
Of course, it's a choice I made. And I wouldn't unmake that choice, even if I could.
Labels: baby, not the mama
A Letter to My Body
Dear Body,
In case you haven't noticed, and I'm not sure how you could have missed it, I am breastfeeding. It's true that only occasionally does Rolo himself latch on, that mostly it's a machine, but it still counts. That Rolo is fed entirely with breast milk means that I breastfeed. So it totally counts.
Most women don't get their period while breastfeeding. So I demand an explanation as to why you thought it would be a good idea for me to get mine. I mean I've been wearing a pad or liner or something every second of every day for the last two months. I was excited that I was down to just a liner. Now? Now it's back to the pad. I'd like to be comfortable. Really, just for a day.
And it's not like this is just a regular cyle. You've decided, over the last week, to keep me on my toes. One day bleeding, the next day, not so much. Or a couple of days without bleeding and then WHAMO! Aunt Flo is in the house. It's like you're taunting me, daring me to go anywhere without a supply of pads with me. I think you are out to get me.
So if you could just lay off the menstruating thing, I'd really appreciate it.
Thanks a bunch,
DJ Heavy
Labels: not the mama, preggo
A Drawback to Breastfeeding
So the boob juice has laxative-like qualities. Which became evident when Rolo had a poop while I was feeding him that was so explosive, it shot out of his diaper and all over my pants. And I mean all. over. my. pants.
Labels: not the mama, Rolo
Ho Hum
You know what they don't tell you after you've had a baby? How freaking BORING it is.
Now that I'm getting my strength back--which is another thing they don't tell you, how completely weak you'll be for weeks after you deliver--I am getting out most days but only for short periods of time.
TV has been my friend. I've decided I hate Sandra Lee on the Food Network. I had gotten a great and easy guacamole recipe from her a couple of years ago, but since I've now watched her show a few times, I think she is completely drunk when filming her show. Possibly on uppers too. The "Barefoot Contessa" mostly has recipes that seem too difficult for me, but her voice is so quiet and monotone that it's the perfect backdrop for naptime.
I love, love, love House Hunters on HGTV. I wish it was on 24/7.
By the way, in case you were wondering, 4a.m. is the hour when HGTV switches from its regular programming to infomercials.
Seriously, I need to get out more. My baby goat is currently bleeting again, so I'm going to see if he's interested in taking a walk.
Labels: baby, not the mama, random
But I Was Going to Break Up With All My Friends
So I was reading an online article about 5 friends that every new mom needs and at the end was this little gem:
Why You Need at Least One Childless Friend
Of course you love your mom buddies, but it's still a good idea to hang onto the pals you had before kids or to make some new ones whose lives don't revolve around the playground and naptime. Here's why:
Childless pals link you to your former life. They bring out interests and passions that may have been dormant for a while; you get so used to thinking of yourself as a mom, you forget that you are also an artist, book lover, and runner.
You need a break from 24-7 kid thinking. It's easy to get so caught up in your baby's world that you don't take time for anything else. Some dishing on adult life (even if it's only Brad and Angelina gossip) can be a wonderful mental break from diaper duty and potty training.
They offer perspective. Listening to your friend discuss the trials and tribulations of the dating scene (the grass isn't always greener) may make you appreciate your life a bit more.
They admire your baby without giving advice. Childless friends tend to lavish attention on your little one without feeling the need to offer theories on sleep or feeding. Plus, it's just plain fun to watch them enjoy each other.I love that it starts with "It's still a good idea to hang onto the pals before you had kids." Really? Because I was planning on getting rid of all of my current friends.
Ridiculous.
Labels: not the mama, random
