We got another first out of the way last night: our first after hour's visit to urgent care.
Everything was going well. Gavin was being an exceptionally cute toddler, and I was enjoying a glass of wine and looking forward to reading once he was in bed. Gavin has this new favorite game where he lays down on the floor and I cover him with a blanket and then he figures out how to get out from under the blanket. It's amazing, and I like it almost as much as he does, because I just have to sit on the couch. (As opposed to the run-down-the-driveway game, which involves running up and down the driveway over and over.)
So, it was a pretty great birthday. And then we were getting ready to put Gavin in his bath and Kevin picked him up and Gavin just started crying. And crying and crying. Clearly whatever had hurt him was not getting better.
We got on the phone to his pediatrician who said it sounded like nursemaid's elbow - a pretty common occurrence among toddlers who are still more bendy than firm. The ligament gets trapped between the bones of the elbow joint. It definitely sounds painful.
The doctor said it often fixes itself, or we could come in in the morning or we could take him to an urgent care. Well, when your kid's crying and there's something you can do to make it better, you do it. So we hopped in the car and headed to urgent care. By now, Gavin was a lot calmer, even smiling and laughing with me in the backseat. Though he still wasn't moving his left arm.
The urgent care doctor was great. She let me hold Gavin while she examined his shoulder and elbow. She held up his Elmo doll to make sure he could move it. And she sent us on our way with instructions to give him some Tylenol and alternate warm and cold compresses (for pain and swelling, respectively).
Gavin fell asleep pretty soon after we got home, but Kevin and I were all keyed up and stayed up for a while longer. And then, of course, as soon as the pain medication wore off, Gavin was up and crying again. This was about half an hour before my alarm went off, so we just pulled him into bed with us. Cuddling was enough to get him to sleep for a while longer.
He still wasn't really using his arm this morning, though I think that's just soreness. If it's still bugging him tonight or tomorrow morning, we'll take him in to his regular pediatrician. The urgent care doctor gave him a pretty thorough examination, so I'm pretty sure nothing is broken or still dislocated. It'll probably just take some time to heal completely.
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 17, 2018
Wednesday, July 11, 2018
Outings
Gavin is at a slightly awkward age. He's beginning to get interested in the world around him. He's curious about everything he sees and is always eager to see more. But he's not quite old enough for proper outings yet. I want to take him to things, to start showing him the world. But he can't really appreciate a museum or a play. He doesn't really have the attention span or the bodily control for some of the things I want to do.
Usually we don't end up going much of anywhere. Maybe the store if I need to run errands. Maybe the park if the weather is perfect and his nap schedule is cooperating. But when it's just me and him, we tend to stay at home. Not that there's anything wrong with reading and exploring the backyard and watching some Sesame Street. It's just that it gets tedious and boring fast. For both of us.
Enter Kevin. When it comes to this sort of thing, he's the better parent than I am. He's willing to just pack up and go, though I think I'm better at remembering that Gavin does still need to eat and sleep when we're out and about. Naps are sacred. Without them, Gavin is cranky and irritable. With them he's fun and curious. I just wish there was some rhyme or reason to when he needed a nap. When it's just the two of us, I tend to plan the day around the nap, to the best of my ability. It's the only time I get for myself right now. When Kevin's around, I'm more willing to let him sleep in the car, because I can grab that adult time later.
I digress. The point of this is that we actually did a lot of stuff this weekend. And Gavin did amazing with it all.
On Saturday we woke up and were out the door by 9 am. We went down to Gravelly Point to watch the planes take off from National. Gavin was a bit scared of the first one, but his excitement quickly overcame it. For a while he'd bury his face in my shoulder when the plane was right overhead, trying to get away from the noise. But he'd immediately look up and grin and point once it was just past us. It wasn't long before he wasn't even scared of the noise.
After watching planes for a bit, we went to the Folk Life Festival, which is featuring Armenia this year. We got an early lunch, but the main festival wasn't open yet. So we went to the American History Museum, which was the closest and also has a kid's play area on the lowest level. We played for a bit, then wandered through an exhibit on advertising before heading back up to the folk life festival for a few minutes. This was all more about herding Gavin than paying attention to any of the information around us. But we survived. And then we got some ice cream and went home and Gavin took a frustratingly short nap in the car.
The next day, we were up and out again. First to brunch with friends, then Kevin and his mom took Gavin to the baseball game while I went home to enjoy a few hours of adult time. Gavin reportedly had fun at the baseball game, and even sat and watched it for several innings. That evening at home, he was actually telling me a bit about it. Well, all he said was "daddy", "baseball", "fun", "game", "daddy's mommy", and "woo!" But even without the complete sentences, it was pretty clear that he remembered going to the game and enjoyed himself. This is the first time he's ever talked about something in the past, and it's cool that this dimension of memory is starting to turn up.
It'll still be a while before I can take him to the local children's museums or a concert or something. But I also need to just suck it up and take him sometime. We have plans to do some of these things later this summer, and I'm starting to feel confident that he won't be entirely too young for them. Even as I sometimes feel bad about existing in public with a toddler. At least the understanding people outnumber the judgmental ones..
Usually we don't end up going much of anywhere. Maybe the store if I need to run errands. Maybe the park if the weather is perfect and his nap schedule is cooperating. But when it's just me and him, we tend to stay at home. Not that there's anything wrong with reading and exploring the backyard and watching some Sesame Street. It's just that it gets tedious and boring fast. For both of us.
Enter Kevin. When it comes to this sort of thing, he's the better parent than I am. He's willing to just pack up and go, though I think I'm better at remembering that Gavin does still need to eat and sleep when we're out and about. Naps are sacred. Without them, Gavin is cranky and irritable. With them he's fun and curious. I just wish there was some rhyme or reason to when he needed a nap. When it's just the two of us, I tend to plan the day around the nap, to the best of my ability. It's the only time I get for myself right now. When Kevin's around, I'm more willing to let him sleep in the car, because I can grab that adult time later.
I digress. The point of this is that we actually did a lot of stuff this weekend. And Gavin did amazing with it all.
On Saturday we woke up and were out the door by 9 am. We went down to Gravelly Point to watch the planes take off from National. Gavin was a bit scared of the first one, but his excitement quickly overcame it. For a while he'd bury his face in my shoulder when the plane was right overhead, trying to get away from the noise. But he'd immediately look up and grin and point once it was just past us. It wasn't long before he wasn't even scared of the noise.
After watching planes for a bit, we went to the Folk Life Festival, which is featuring Armenia this year. We got an early lunch, but the main festival wasn't open yet. So we went to the American History Museum, which was the closest and also has a kid's play area on the lowest level. We played for a bit, then wandered through an exhibit on advertising before heading back up to the folk life festival for a few minutes. This was all more about herding Gavin than paying attention to any of the information around us. But we survived. And then we got some ice cream and went home and Gavin took a frustratingly short nap in the car.
The next day, we were up and out again. First to brunch with friends, then Kevin and his mom took Gavin to the baseball game while I went home to enjoy a few hours of adult time. Gavin reportedly had fun at the baseball game, and even sat and watched it for several innings. That evening at home, he was actually telling me a bit about it. Well, all he said was "daddy", "baseball", "fun", "game", "daddy's mommy", and "woo!" But even without the complete sentences, it was pretty clear that he remembered going to the game and enjoyed himself. This is the first time he's ever talked about something in the past, and it's cool that this dimension of memory is starting to turn up.
It'll still be a while before I can take him to the local children's museums or a concert or something. But I also need to just suck it up and take him sometime. We have plans to do some of these things later this summer, and I'm starting to feel confident that he won't be entirely too young for them. Even as I sometimes feel bad about existing in public with a toddler. At least the understanding people outnumber the judgmental ones..
Saturday, July 7, 2018
Discovering Gender
Lately Gavin has been labeling everything around the house as either "mama" or "daddy". Or, occasionally, "Kina". I know enough cognitive psychology to know that humans tend to categorize things and this is the beginning of that. It's a fun stage to watch, and it's interesting to see Gavin start to sort the world according to the rules he's learned so far.
It's also a bit disconcerting, getting my gender roles thrown in my face like this. As egalitarian as our relationship is, Kevin and I do subscribe to some classic gender roles. Sure, we both work outside the home. But I'm definitely the primary caregiver. And I take care of most of the inside chores while Kevin tackles all the yard work. I've always known this and it works for us. But now that Gavin's becoming aware of it, my awareness of it has increased and become more present in my day to day life.
The things that Gavin has thus far labeled as "mama" include: the laundry basket, chap stick, hand lotion, any mug, and most books. Items labeled "daddy" include: beer bottles, bottle caps, the bottle opener, the grill, and ketchup. The leash and dog treats are both "Kina".
While I'm pretty sure Gavin isn't yet aware of gender as a concept, it's pretty clear that this is a precursor to that. He's sorting things, and it won't be long before he lands on things as being either male or female. It's one of the basic structures of our society, so it's going to be one of the first things he learns. But what's really interesting is that, at the moment, I really don't believe he has any concept of being a boy. And I'm excited to see how that process works.
Right now, Gavin emulates both Kevin and I pretty equally. He likes hanging out when I'm washing dishes and loading or unloading the dishwasher. He follows Kevin around the yard picking up sticks. He tromps around the house in my shoes and loves carrying around empty beer bottles. At some point I expect this to shift so that he's trying to be more like one of us than the other.
At some point "mama" and "daddy" will become "female" and "male" and he'll apply a label to himself, too. I don't know when that will happen. But the fact that I know it's coming has me trying to drink in every moment where he is, essentially, genderless. At least in his own head. I'm positively fascinated by the fact that this isn't really a concept for him, and I'm trying to use that awareness to make myself more comfortable with gender fluidity. After all, who wouldn't want to inhabit a world where a third possible gender is "dog"?
It's also a bit disconcerting, getting my gender roles thrown in my face like this. As egalitarian as our relationship is, Kevin and I do subscribe to some classic gender roles. Sure, we both work outside the home. But I'm definitely the primary caregiver. And I take care of most of the inside chores while Kevin tackles all the yard work. I've always known this and it works for us. But now that Gavin's becoming aware of it, my awareness of it has increased and become more present in my day to day life.
The things that Gavin has thus far labeled as "mama" include: the laundry basket, chap stick, hand lotion, any mug, and most books. Items labeled "daddy" include: beer bottles, bottle caps, the bottle opener, the grill, and ketchup. The leash and dog treats are both "Kina".
While I'm pretty sure Gavin isn't yet aware of gender as a concept, it's pretty clear that this is a precursor to that. He's sorting things, and it won't be long before he lands on things as being either male or female. It's one of the basic structures of our society, so it's going to be one of the first things he learns. But what's really interesting is that, at the moment, I really don't believe he has any concept of being a boy. And I'm excited to see how that process works.
Right now, Gavin emulates both Kevin and I pretty equally. He likes hanging out when I'm washing dishes and loading or unloading the dishwasher. He follows Kevin around the yard picking up sticks. He tromps around the house in my shoes and loves carrying around empty beer bottles. At some point I expect this to shift so that he's trying to be more like one of us than the other.
At some point "mama" and "daddy" will become "female" and "male" and he'll apply a label to himself, too. I don't know when that will happen. But the fact that I know it's coming has me trying to drink in every moment where he is, essentially, genderless. At least in his own head. I'm positively fascinated by the fact that this isn't really a concept for him, and I'm trying to use that awareness to make myself more comfortable with gender fluidity. After all, who wouldn't want to inhabit a world where a third possible gender is "dog"?
Friday, July 6, 2018
Double Your Future
People like to say that once you have kids your life is over. Kids age you. They cramp your style and box you in and just destroy your life.
People who say things like that should probably never have kids. These aren't things I ever really believed, except possibly the bit about kids aging you. They grow so quickly that you can't help but be aware that time is passing.
What I didn't expect, and what I have come to discover, is that not only are these statements lies. They are very nearly the opposite of the truth. Gavin makes me feel like I have twice as much future to look forward to. He has broadened my horizons, and that makes me feel younger than ever before.
Part of this is certainly just natural aging. People always tell you that life keeps getting better. That happiness increases with age. That high school and college are so far from the best times of your life that it's laughable. And I always believed it enough to pay lip service to. But the truth is that I didn't believe it whole-heartedly until recently. But here I am, embarking on my thirties, and I've never been happier. At least in my personal life. Politically is an entirely different story, but we won't talk about that here.
So yes, my life right now is exactly what I want it to be. And that gives me confidence that I'll be able to continue to make it what I want it. That I will eventually find a way to write the book that's been sitting in my head for the past three years. That I might even get it published. And that I'll find a way to do all the other little things I want to do.
I have a lot to look forward to, is my point.
And then enter the child. He's really turning into a person, and I look at him now with so much hope and nostalgia. I can't wait for him to start school and make friends. I'm looking forward to guiding him through all the ups and downs of growing up. To his first kiss and his first love. To seeing what sparks his interest and helping him pursue that.
To borrow from Pat Rothfuss, his future adds to mine and makes an alloy of sorts.
This is the part where it gets sappy, but I'm grateful every day for my kid, and for the future that's waiting for him. There's a lot of scary stuff out there. But there are also a lot of good things to look forward to. I have to keep believing that it mostly gets better. And he helps me with that.
People who say things like that should probably never have kids. These aren't things I ever really believed, except possibly the bit about kids aging you. They grow so quickly that you can't help but be aware that time is passing.
What I didn't expect, and what I have come to discover, is that not only are these statements lies. They are very nearly the opposite of the truth. Gavin makes me feel like I have twice as much future to look forward to. He has broadened my horizons, and that makes me feel younger than ever before.
Part of this is certainly just natural aging. People always tell you that life keeps getting better. That happiness increases with age. That high school and college are so far from the best times of your life that it's laughable. And I always believed it enough to pay lip service to. But the truth is that I didn't believe it whole-heartedly until recently. But here I am, embarking on my thirties, and I've never been happier. At least in my personal life. Politically is an entirely different story, but we won't talk about that here.
So yes, my life right now is exactly what I want it to be. And that gives me confidence that I'll be able to continue to make it what I want it. That I will eventually find a way to write the book that's been sitting in my head for the past three years. That I might even get it published. And that I'll find a way to do all the other little things I want to do.
I have a lot to look forward to, is my point.
And then enter the child. He's really turning into a person, and I look at him now with so much hope and nostalgia. I can't wait for him to start school and make friends. I'm looking forward to guiding him through all the ups and downs of growing up. To his first kiss and his first love. To seeing what sparks his interest and helping him pursue that.
To borrow from Pat Rothfuss, his future adds to mine and makes an alloy of sorts.
This is the part where it gets sappy, but I'm grateful every day for my kid, and for the future that's waiting for him. There's a lot of scary stuff out there. But there are also a lot of good things to look forward to. I have to keep believing that it mostly gets better. And he helps me with that.
Friday, May 11, 2018
Sick
Do you know what's worse than throwing up in the shower? Throwing up in the shower shortly before your toddler wakes up while your husband is out of town. Oh and it's also the first day of your period.
Gavin got this bug on Sunday. He woke up and proceeded to vomit three times in under an hour. During that time he also pooped more than his diaper could hold, causing a slightly more contained, but no less gross, mess. I comforted him. I did laundry. I mopped and scrubbed and somehow also managed to eat and drink my tea, because problems like these loom so much larger when I have no food in my belly and no caffeine in my blood. By 8:00 we were chilling on the couch with a pile of books, and it was like nothing had happened.
I should have been expecting it to hit me, because every time Gavin gets sick, I get it, too. And I often get it worse. Or maybe it's that it's just that he's got this combination of stoicism and cheerfulness that makes it hard to determine how sick he actually is. The only time Gavin truly seemed out of it was when he had a fever that brought that glazed look to his eyes. But even that barely lasted for twelve hours.
So of course I got his stomach bug. And of course I got it worse than him. Or at least it took me longer to recover. I finished rinsing the conditioner out of my hair while sitting in the shower. Then got out, got dressed, and slowly and deliberately went about my morning routine. Gavin was only sick for an hour, and I was already feeling better, so I was actually planning to go to work. I ate a single bite of my buttered toast and drank two sips of water before I started to worry about my ability to keep food down.
But the thing about parenthood is that you just keep going. You find these reserves of strength that you never knew you had before. I'm sure if Kevin had been around I would have collapsed right back into bed for another hour. But Gavin was waking up and Kina was whining to go outside and even if I felt comfortable calling someone at 6 in the morning it's not like they'd get to my house quickly enough to actually help me.
I got Gavin up and dressed and gave him his cheerios. I fed Kina and let her into the backyard. And then I realized that I didn't have the wherewithal to walk Kina. So I put on some Sesame Street and hoped Kina would pee before I had to bring her back in.
Twenty minutes later, Gavin and I were in the car. I had my tea and my lunch, still planning to go to work. I was teetering on that knife's edge between wanting to collapse on the couch and being sure that I'd feel fine in another hour. Also, my Fitbit was nearly out of battery and I'd left my charger at work. Then again, Kina may very well poop in the house since she didn't get her morning walk.
I finally decided to just go home. I couldn't stomach the thought of my tea, nothing at work was pressing, and I knew I'd need all my energy for our weekend trip to Boston. Plus I had thrown up in the shower not two hours earlier. What kind of idiot even contemplates going to work after a morning like that? (No, seriously, I cannot figure out what was going through my brain.)
Kina got to spend all day in the backyard, and I got to watch six straight hours of television. By the time I had to pick up Gavin from daycare, I was feeling almost entirely better. We had a fun evening together, and I ended up feeling like a good and successful mom when all was said and done.
Kevin's going to be out of town for another month, and I'm sure it'll be a long month (Gavin asks "where's daddy? five-ten times a day). But after this mini-crisis I feel like I can get through anything. Though I do wish I'd stop getting sick so often.
Gavin got this bug on Sunday. He woke up and proceeded to vomit three times in under an hour. During that time he also pooped more than his diaper could hold, causing a slightly more contained, but no less gross, mess. I comforted him. I did laundry. I mopped and scrubbed and somehow also managed to eat and drink my tea, because problems like these loom so much larger when I have no food in my belly and no caffeine in my blood. By 8:00 we were chilling on the couch with a pile of books, and it was like nothing had happened.
I should have been expecting it to hit me, because every time Gavin gets sick, I get it, too. And I often get it worse. Or maybe it's that it's just that he's got this combination of stoicism and cheerfulness that makes it hard to determine how sick he actually is. The only time Gavin truly seemed out of it was when he had a fever that brought that glazed look to his eyes. But even that barely lasted for twelve hours.
So of course I got his stomach bug. And of course I got it worse than him. Or at least it took me longer to recover. I finished rinsing the conditioner out of my hair while sitting in the shower. Then got out, got dressed, and slowly and deliberately went about my morning routine. Gavin was only sick for an hour, and I was already feeling better, so I was actually planning to go to work. I ate a single bite of my buttered toast and drank two sips of water before I started to worry about my ability to keep food down.
But the thing about parenthood is that you just keep going. You find these reserves of strength that you never knew you had before. I'm sure if Kevin had been around I would have collapsed right back into bed for another hour. But Gavin was waking up and Kina was whining to go outside and even if I felt comfortable calling someone at 6 in the morning it's not like they'd get to my house quickly enough to actually help me.
I got Gavin up and dressed and gave him his cheerios. I fed Kina and let her into the backyard. And then I realized that I didn't have the wherewithal to walk Kina. So I put on some Sesame Street and hoped Kina would pee before I had to bring her back in.
Twenty minutes later, Gavin and I were in the car. I had my tea and my lunch, still planning to go to work. I was teetering on that knife's edge between wanting to collapse on the couch and being sure that I'd feel fine in another hour. Also, my Fitbit was nearly out of battery and I'd left my charger at work. Then again, Kina may very well poop in the house since she didn't get her morning walk.
I finally decided to just go home. I couldn't stomach the thought of my tea, nothing at work was pressing, and I knew I'd need all my energy for our weekend trip to Boston. Plus I had thrown up in the shower not two hours earlier. What kind of idiot even contemplates going to work after a morning like that? (No, seriously, I cannot figure out what was going through my brain.)
Kina got to spend all day in the backyard, and I got to watch six straight hours of television. By the time I had to pick up Gavin from daycare, I was feeling almost entirely better. We had a fun evening together, and I ended up feeling like a good and successful mom when all was said and done.
Kevin's going to be out of town for another month, and I'm sure it'll be a long month (Gavin asks "where's daddy? five-ten times a day). But after this mini-crisis I feel like I can get through anything. Though I do wish I'd stop getting sick so often.
Monday, May 7, 2018
18 Months
Eighteen months is proving to be a very fun age. I think it's my favorite age since ten months, which is the last time Gavin made a big leap forward in his ability to interact with us. Then it was all giggles and play. Now it's a positive explosion of words. Gavin talks all the time. He learns new words every day, and he's starting to figure out sentences. He can ask for what he wants now, and he can definitely understand most of what I say.
It's so much fun to watch him turn into a person and start to discover his likes and dislikes. He has recently become obsessed with Elmo. He often requests that we play the theme song to Elmo's World and then dances and sings along to it (sort of). If the song comes on unexpectedly he stops whatever he's doing and gets excited for Elmo.
We ended up buying him a stuffed Elmo, and he's been sleeping with it every night. This is actually something of a relief to me. Up to now he hasn't shown any interest in stuffed animals or blankets. He doesn't insist on carrying them around or sleeping with them or anything. He likes books and has his favorite toys, but he hasn't gotten particularly attached to anything long-term. He still forgets about Elmo half the time and is content to leave him behind when he wants to do something else, but it's nice to see him snuggling a stuffed animal.
He also getting better at a whole slew of physical activities. He's learning how to use a fork (which often results in a lot of frustration, but he's getting better). He can almost go down stairs on his own now, so long as he doesn't get distracted by anything. He can climb up on our couches and continues to love jumping and anything that involves him being upside down.
But he balances all this physicality really well. He's still a very observant and deliberate baby, who will often watch for a while before jumping in on his own. And he still loves to read and will happily hang out in my lap with a stack of books for as long as I'll let him.
It is so much fun watching him grow up and start to be more independent. I have to rein it in a little here and there - Gavin is pretty upset that I don't let him walk the dog on his own. But it's mostly exciting to see what he can do and how much he's willing to try.
It's so much fun to watch him turn into a person and start to discover his likes and dislikes. He has recently become obsessed with Elmo. He often requests that we play the theme song to Elmo's World and then dances and sings along to it (sort of). If the song comes on unexpectedly he stops whatever he's doing and gets excited for Elmo.
We ended up buying him a stuffed Elmo, and he's been sleeping with it every night. This is actually something of a relief to me. Up to now he hasn't shown any interest in stuffed animals or blankets. He doesn't insist on carrying them around or sleeping with them or anything. He likes books and has his favorite toys, but he hasn't gotten particularly attached to anything long-term. He still forgets about Elmo half the time and is content to leave him behind when he wants to do something else, but it's nice to see him snuggling a stuffed animal.
He also getting better at a whole slew of physical activities. He's learning how to use a fork (which often results in a lot of frustration, but he's getting better). He can almost go down stairs on his own now, so long as he doesn't get distracted by anything. He can climb up on our couches and continues to love jumping and anything that involves him being upside down.
But he balances all this physicality really well. He's still a very observant and deliberate baby, who will often watch for a while before jumping in on his own. And he still loves to read and will happily hang out in my lap with a stack of books for as long as I'll let him.
It is so much fun watching him grow up and start to be more independent. I have to rein it in a little here and there - Gavin is pretty upset that I don't let him walk the dog on his own. But it's mostly exciting to see what he can do and how much he's willing to try.
Tuesday, January 9, 2018
Love of Books
Last night, I spent the entire evening reading books to Gavin. I picked him up from daycare, and he was reading books with the provider. They told me he'd been doing so all day. When we got home and I put him down, he immediately grabbed The Biggest Cookie in the World and crawled into my lap. We read it five times before Kevin came up for dinner. Well, we read it twice. The rest of the time he flipped through willy-nilly, stopping on the pictures he liked and stroking Cookie Monster's fur. (There is no fur to stroke, it's just a picture book. He does this with pictures of cats, too.)
After dinner we moved on to his current favorite, Llama Llama, Red Pajama. Then he grabbed Quantum Physics for Babies from the couch and we read that one, too. When he'd exhausted his appetite for those books (and the cookie one again) he ran to his room and came back with another book.
I have to say, it gets a bit tedious reading the same book over and over and over again. We cycled through five or six books. Each of them takes less than five minutes to read. But we sat on that couch for nearly an hour, working our way through them again and again.
Sometimes Kevin took a turn reading. Sometimes Gavin grabbed a book and flipped quietly through it by himself for a while, until he decided he wanted one of us to read to him again. It was an evening full of books.
This feels like my biggest success as a parent so far: Gavin's love of books. I'm not entirely sure how I managed to instill it in him. Some combination of reading to him all the time and reading in front of him the rest of the time. I hope it continues for the rest of his life. I'm looking forward to telling him that he's always been a reader, right from the beginning.
After dinner we moved on to his current favorite, Llama Llama, Red Pajama. Then he grabbed Quantum Physics for Babies from the couch and we read that one, too. When he'd exhausted his appetite for those books (and the cookie one again) he ran to his room and came back with another book.
I have to say, it gets a bit tedious reading the same book over and over and over again. We cycled through five or six books. Each of them takes less than five minutes to read. But we sat on that couch for nearly an hour, working our way through them again and again.
Sometimes Kevin took a turn reading. Sometimes Gavin grabbed a book and flipped quietly through it by himself for a while, until he decided he wanted one of us to read to him again. It was an evening full of books.
This feels like my biggest success as a parent so far: Gavin's love of books. I'm not entirely sure how I managed to instill it in him. Some combination of reading to him all the time and reading in front of him the rest of the time. I hope it continues for the rest of his life. I'm looking forward to telling him that he's always been a reader, right from the beginning.
Wednesday, October 11, 2017
Giggles
Gavin is at a wonderful age where he laughs all the time. Getting him to giggle is the easiest thing in the world, so our evenings are now filled with the joyous sound. I think this is definitely my favorite age so far. Here's a list of the things that make him laugh:
- Playing catch. He's not great at it yet, but he does love passing the dog bone or one of his balls back and forth.
- Animal noises. His current favorite book is (Your Child's First Word Will Be) Dada, by Jimmy Fallon. It's just a series of animals saying "dada" and their babies responding with the animal nosie. Gavin particularly loves the dog and the pig. And he always tries to mimic the bee's buzzing. He also can say dada now, but it appears to just be a catch-all word, referring to everything from Kevin to this book to his bottle.
- Spinning things. We don't have any tops, but Gavin does have a set of brightly colored spinning cups that spin pretty well. He chases them across the floor then brings them back to be spun again.
- Clapping. He's got this motion down now, and he loves when you clap with him. He's also figuring out high-fives.
- Dog kisses. Kina doesn't really lick, which is one of my favorite things about her. But Gavin has discovered that if he covers his hand in food she will come up and lick it off. It's one of his favorite things, and a behavior we probably ought to put a stop to. But it's nice that they're friends.
- Peek-a-boo. It is essential that you say "boo", though
- Getting tossed and swung around. This kid is going to love roller coasters and other thrill rides when he's older
- Jump scares. I don't know why he loves being scared so much. But if you sneak up behind him and say "boo" he always jumps and then dissolves into giggles
The world sucks right now, and I'm glad I can always rely on baby giggles. There is no greater balm for the soul.
Wednesday, July 12, 2017
Milestones
In the past couple of weeks Gavin has hit a bunch of milestones that are pushing him closer to toddler territory. He's still definitely a baby. But sometimes I get glimpses of the kid he's going to be. These days are slipping by, and it's all happening too fast.
He finally cut his first tooth and is working on the second one. Granted, this isn't a sign of impending toddler-dom. If anything, he started teething much later than most babies. But it means that he's eating more solid foods now. More often than not we give him a little bit of whatever we're eating for dinner. He seems to like it more than the pre-packaged Gerber meals. He doesn't get a lot of his nutrients this way - the dog probably eats more of his dinner than he does. It's fun to watch him try new flavors, though, and to learn about new foods.
He's also a lot better at balancing now, which means he can sit for longer periods of time. We can finally put him in high chairs at restaurants and in the shopping cart. It makes grocery shopping and Target runs a lot easier (I don't have to limit myself to a basket).
Finally, Gavin has gotten disconcertingly good at pulling himself up. Considering how long it took him to crawl, I wasn't expecting this to happen so quickly. I blame it partially on the flight to Alaska. While stuck in his car seat for 6 hours, Gavin discovered the third dimension and started climbing all over the place out of boredom. A few days later he was pulling up on the couch in the hotel, and now he can pretty much climb onto the couch in our basement. It doesn't help my nerves that he's fearless. He's determined to stand up without hanging onto to a couch or bed. So he'll often turn and let go, only to sit down suddenly. I've also seen him attempting to stand without the aid of furniture, but his balance isn't quite there yet. I know it's only a matter of time before he's walking, and it looks like that might happen sooner than I was expecting.
It's fun watching him grow and learn new things. It's also exhausting, chasing him around constantly. I have to keep a much closer eye on him than ever before. At least the animals are both being patient with him. It helps that they can still get out of his range when he gets to be too much. I wonder how patient they'll be when he can keep up with them.
He finally cut his first tooth and is working on the second one. Granted, this isn't a sign of impending toddler-dom. If anything, he started teething much later than most babies. But it means that he's eating more solid foods now. More often than not we give him a little bit of whatever we're eating for dinner. He seems to like it more than the pre-packaged Gerber meals. He doesn't get a lot of his nutrients this way - the dog probably eats more of his dinner than he does. It's fun to watch him try new flavors, though, and to learn about new foods.
He's also a lot better at balancing now, which means he can sit for longer periods of time. We can finally put him in high chairs at restaurants and in the shopping cart. It makes grocery shopping and Target runs a lot easier (I don't have to limit myself to a basket).
Finally, Gavin has gotten disconcertingly good at pulling himself up. Considering how long it took him to crawl, I wasn't expecting this to happen so quickly. I blame it partially on the flight to Alaska. While stuck in his car seat for 6 hours, Gavin discovered the third dimension and started climbing all over the place out of boredom. A few days later he was pulling up on the couch in the hotel, and now he can pretty much climb onto the couch in our basement. It doesn't help my nerves that he's fearless. He's determined to stand up without hanging onto to a couch or bed. So he'll often turn and let go, only to sit down suddenly. I've also seen him attempting to stand without the aid of furniture, but his balance isn't quite there yet. I know it's only a matter of time before he's walking, and it looks like that might happen sooner than I was expecting.
It's fun watching him grow and learn new things. It's also exhausting, chasing him around constantly. I have to keep a much closer eye on him than ever before. At least the animals are both being patient with him. It helps that they can still get out of his range when he gets to be too much. I wonder how patient they'll be when he can keep up with them.
Thursday, June 15, 2017
The Hardest Thing
The hardest thing about Kevin being gone for an extended period of time is that I have to take Kina on both of her walks every day. I can't leave Gavin behind while I do this, so I have to load him into the stroller. I have to carve out extra time from my morning routine on the days I go to work and fit it around naps on the other days. I have to take them out, rain or shine, hot or cold. I have to control Kina with one hand while I maneuver the stroller with the other hand and hope that the hyperactive dogs across the cul-de-sac aren't being walked at the same time.
The hardest thing about Kevin being gone for an extended period of time is that I can never uite get enough sleep. Gavin's pretty good about sleeping at night. He's mostly asleep by 7:30, up at 5, and up once overnight to eat. But I can only go to bed so early. I end up getting 6 or 7 hours of sleep each night. It's not enough to leave me exhausted and needing a nap. Or even tired enough to take a nap. But it keeps me on edge, slowly wears me down until I'm making stupid mistakes at work and trying not to snap at people. The night finally comes when I could fall asleep at 8, and Gavin inevitably picks that night to be up until 9 or 9:30.
The hardest thing about Kevin being gone for an extended period of time is how much planning I have to do. In the evenings after I pick up Gavin from daycare I have two hours to feed him, feed myself, walk the dog, bathe Gavin, feed him again and get him to bed. I can make it work, but it's tight. I have to take care of the million little things that usually fall on Kevin's plate: taking out the trash, replacing burnt out bulbs, clearing off the driveway, etc. On the bright side, he makes me appreciate him more when he is here.
The hardest thing about Kevin being gone for an extended period of time is how much he's missing. Gavin can feed himself now. He's starting to understand language and make his wishes known. He's sitting in his stroller like a big boy and can get pretty much anywhere he wants to go. I'm getting to know him better each day, and I'm trying to keep track of all the things I need to make sure Kevin knows when he gets back. How to tell when he's hungry or tired or just wants to be held.
The hardest thing about Kevin being gone for an extended period of time is when he gets back. Gavin and I have established our routine and anything Kevin does disrupts it. We have to accommodate another person, and it takes a few days to adjust. The burden doesn't quite get lifted in the ways I expect it to, and it leaves me cranky while I remember how to take a step back.
Just two more days and then I can (hopefully) catch up on sleep.
The hardest thing about Kevin being gone for an extended period of time is that I can never uite get enough sleep. Gavin's pretty good about sleeping at night. He's mostly asleep by 7:30, up at 5, and up once overnight to eat. But I can only go to bed so early. I end up getting 6 or 7 hours of sleep each night. It's not enough to leave me exhausted and needing a nap. Or even tired enough to take a nap. But it keeps me on edge, slowly wears me down until I'm making stupid mistakes at work and trying not to snap at people. The night finally comes when I could fall asleep at 8, and Gavin inevitably picks that night to be up until 9 or 9:30.
The hardest thing about Kevin being gone for an extended period of time is how much planning I have to do. In the evenings after I pick up Gavin from daycare I have two hours to feed him, feed myself, walk the dog, bathe Gavin, feed him again and get him to bed. I can make it work, but it's tight. I have to take care of the million little things that usually fall on Kevin's plate: taking out the trash, replacing burnt out bulbs, clearing off the driveway, etc. On the bright side, he makes me appreciate him more when he is here.
The hardest thing about Kevin being gone for an extended period of time is how much he's missing. Gavin can feed himself now. He's starting to understand language and make his wishes known. He's sitting in his stroller like a big boy and can get pretty much anywhere he wants to go. I'm getting to know him better each day, and I'm trying to keep track of all the things I need to make sure Kevin knows when he gets back. How to tell when he's hungry or tired or just wants to be held.
The hardest thing about Kevin being gone for an extended period of time is when he gets back. Gavin and I have established our routine and anything Kevin does disrupts it. We have to accommodate another person, and it takes a few days to adjust. The burden doesn't quite get lifted in the ways I expect it to, and it leaves me cranky while I remember how to take a step back.
Just two more days and then I can (hopefully) catch up on sleep.
Friday, June 9, 2017
A Not-So Good Day
Just as the good day hinges on the baby sleeping a bunch, the not so good day happens when he doesn't sleep. It starts with an almost sleepless night, one where he's decided that eating is more important. He's up less than an hour after I go to bed and continues to wake up every couple of hours. And it's not just that he's waking up and crying. I actually don't have much problem with that. Sometimes he'll have a nightmare or wake himself up coughing. But after a minute or two of fussing, he's back to sleep and I've only woken up enough to roll over and register the disturbance to my sleep.
It's different when he's hungry. He can't get back to sleep on his own. So I have to wake up and feed him, which can take anywhere from 10 to 30 minutes. And it tends to take longer on these hollow nights when his stomach won't stay full. Eventually he wakes up for the final time, half an hour before my alarm goes off. There's a special kind of despair at that moment, when you know you won't be getting back to sleep.
Despite waking up so much earlier than usual, I fumble through the morning and end up leaving the house late. Which means I hit traffic (I usually skirt the very beginning of rush hour). Leaving the house five minutes later than normal means I get to work more than twenty minutes later then normal.
At least I can load up on caffeine at work, zone out without putting someone's life in danger. Yesterday nothing was going right, but at least none of it was my fault. And waiting on responses from five different people on three different tasks meant that I had a decent amount of time to just zone out in front of my computer screen. Not ideal but not the worst thing ever, either.
After work I had a dentist appointment. My third in a month. On the bright side, this one should be the last until my next cleaning. Still, going to the dentist is never fun, and now it breaks up my only free time. I had just enough time to go home and pump before I had to go pick up Gavin from daycare.
I brought home a cranky kid and fed him again. Fed him so much and for so long that I was starting to worry about walking Kina. There were a few minutes when I was sure that Gavin was just going to nod off early, meaning that I'd have to deprive Kina of her walk and hope that she took it upon herself to poop in the backyard instead of waiting until midnight to poop in my office, Luckily, Gavin finished eating and woke up, so we were able to walk the dog.
The worst part of days like this (other than the lack of sleep) is that I still have to be on. If I'm grumpy or testy it just makes everything worse for everyone. (And maybe I lashed out at Kevin a bit, because these days are an order of magnitude harder when he's on the other side of the world). But with Gavin, I still need to be cheerful and silly, make faces while he's eating and talk to him and play with him. In the olden days, before I had kids, a day like this would end with a bottle of wine and a Buffy marathon. This time I got Gavin to bed just in time to have a glass of wine and read a chapter in my book.
But it could have been worse, as I kept telling myself. The kid is happy, the dog is walked, even the kitchen got cleaned when bedtime came and went with a wide-awake baby.
The hardest part is that the light at the end of the tunnel is so far away. Kevin won't be home for more than a week, and I likely won't have a good night's sleep until then. But my baby is one of the easy ones. There are at least as many good days as there are bad days. And I do have resources to call on if it ever gets worse than this. Skirting up to the edge of what I can handle sucks, but I can still handle it.
It's different when he's hungry. He can't get back to sleep on his own. So I have to wake up and feed him, which can take anywhere from 10 to 30 minutes. And it tends to take longer on these hollow nights when his stomach won't stay full. Eventually he wakes up for the final time, half an hour before my alarm goes off. There's a special kind of despair at that moment, when you know you won't be getting back to sleep.
Despite waking up so much earlier than usual, I fumble through the morning and end up leaving the house late. Which means I hit traffic (I usually skirt the very beginning of rush hour). Leaving the house five minutes later than normal means I get to work more than twenty minutes later then normal.
At least I can load up on caffeine at work, zone out without putting someone's life in danger. Yesterday nothing was going right, but at least none of it was my fault. And waiting on responses from five different people on three different tasks meant that I had a decent amount of time to just zone out in front of my computer screen. Not ideal but not the worst thing ever, either.
After work I had a dentist appointment. My third in a month. On the bright side, this one should be the last until my next cleaning. Still, going to the dentist is never fun, and now it breaks up my only free time. I had just enough time to go home and pump before I had to go pick up Gavin from daycare.
I brought home a cranky kid and fed him again. Fed him so much and for so long that I was starting to worry about walking Kina. There were a few minutes when I was sure that Gavin was just going to nod off early, meaning that I'd have to deprive Kina of her walk and hope that she took it upon herself to poop in the backyard instead of waiting until midnight to poop in my office, Luckily, Gavin finished eating and woke up, so we were able to walk the dog.
The worst part of days like this (other than the lack of sleep) is that I still have to be on. If I'm grumpy or testy it just makes everything worse for everyone. (And maybe I lashed out at Kevin a bit, because these days are an order of magnitude harder when he's on the other side of the world). But with Gavin, I still need to be cheerful and silly, make faces while he's eating and talk to him and play with him. In the olden days, before I had kids, a day like this would end with a bottle of wine and a Buffy marathon. This time I got Gavin to bed just in time to have a glass of wine and read a chapter in my book.
But it could have been worse, as I kept telling myself. The kid is happy, the dog is walked, even the kitchen got cleaned when bedtime came and went with a wide-awake baby.
The hardest part is that the light at the end of the tunnel is so far away. Kevin won't be home for more than a week, and I likely won't have a good night's sleep until then. But my baby is one of the easy ones. There are at least as many good days as there are bad days. And I do have resources to call on if it ever gets worse than this. Skirting up to the edge of what I can handle sucks, but I can still handle it.
Tuesday, June 6, 2017
A Good Day
I haven't tried very hard to get Gavin on a schedule. He's managed to get on something resembling a set schedule, at least at night. I don't know how much of this is tapping in to his own natural rhythms and how much is imposed by daycare. They definitely have him on a stricter napping/feeding schedule than I do, and getting up in the morning has imposed some semblance of order on our lives. Gavin is a pretty consistent sleeper at night. But on the days when he's home with me, anything goes.
Part of this is that I try not to force anything on him. When it's just the two of us, he eats and sleeps when he wants. I'm pretty much content to follow his lead. Except on the days when I have things scheduled, and then he inevitably wants to eat just as I'm getting ready to go out, or I have to wake him from a nap if I'm going to keep an appointment.
It's possible that these busy days would be easier if I could predict Gavin's wants more accurately. But I'm not really busy enough to force it. And trying to make him sleep when he's not tired or making him eat at scheduled times just sounds like it would result in a lot more tears for both of us. He's a pretty easy-going baby, and I think that at least part of that is because I try to go with his flow as much as I can. Like that song, Smooth.
The point is that when it's just Gavin and me, there's no schedule. He might nap three times. He might not nap at all. He might go down for three hours in the middle of the day. Sometimes this results in a day when I just can't seem to get anything done. Sometimes (especially when Kevin is out of town) it leads to days that drag on and on. And sometimes, like yesterday, I am gifted with a perfect day.
Everything came together yesterday. Gavin woke up at 6, and even though I hadn't quite gotten eight hours of sleep in, I woke up feeling refreshed because Gavin hadn't woken up to eat overnight. It's amazing what uninterrupted sleep can do for you. I fed him and ate my own breakfast, and then he was ready to eat again and go down for a nap at 7.
Since I didn't need a nap at this point, I dove into my to-do list. By 8:30, I had done all of the cleaning I wanted to for the day. Then Gavin woke up, and we took Kina for a nice, long walk. We got home, Gavin ate some cereal and we played for a bit. Then he went down for another nap. I was able to eat lunch and watch some TV without wrangling him. We played a bit in the early afternoon, and then he took another nap, which let me sit on the couch and finish my book on a nice, rainy afternoon.
The key here is lots of sleep from Gavin. Naps that are long enough for me to get things done while also being space well enough for me to eat without having to worry about entertaining him at the same time. We got to play, but he was never overly fussy or hyperactive. And he still went to bed at 7:30.
If I really wanted to get him on a schedule, this is the one I'd probably aim for. But if every day were like this, I wouldn't appreciate it properly. Plus I'd have a hard time running errands, with Gavin sleeping all the time. Its worthless anyway. Part of the reason that he isn't on a schedule is that every time I thought I had him on one, something would change (he'd get sick or hit a growth spurt) and the whole thing would get thrown out the window. So I'll just appreciate these days as they come, relish in the relatively rare feeling of being well-rested, and be grateful that my kid is so easy.
Part of this is that I try not to force anything on him. When it's just the two of us, he eats and sleeps when he wants. I'm pretty much content to follow his lead. Except on the days when I have things scheduled, and then he inevitably wants to eat just as I'm getting ready to go out, or I have to wake him from a nap if I'm going to keep an appointment.
It's possible that these busy days would be easier if I could predict Gavin's wants more accurately. But I'm not really busy enough to force it. And trying to make him sleep when he's not tired or making him eat at scheduled times just sounds like it would result in a lot more tears for both of us. He's a pretty easy-going baby, and I think that at least part of that is because I try to go with his flow as much as I can. Like that song, Smooth.
The point is that when it's just Gavin and me, there's no schedule. He might nap three times. He might not nap at all. He might go down for three hours in the middle of the day. Sometimes this results in a day when I just can't seem to get anything done. Sometimes (especially when Kevin is out of town) it leads to days that drag on and on. And sometimes, like yesterday, I am gifted with a perfect day.
Everything came together yesterday. Gavin woke up at 6, and even though I hadn't quite gotten eight hours of sleep in, I woke up feeling refreshed because Gavin hadn't woken up to eat overnight. It's amazing what uninterrupted sleep can do for you. I fed him and ate my own breakfast, and then he was ready to eat again and go down for a nap at 7.
Since I didn't need a nap at this point, I dove into my to-do list. By 8:30, I had done all of the cleaning I wanted to for the day. Then Gavin woke up, and we took Kina for a nice, long walk. We got home, Gavin ate some cereal and we played for a bit. Then he went down for another nap. I was able to eat lunch and watch some TV without wrangling him. We played a bit in the early afternoon, and then he took another nap, which let me sit on the couch and finish my book on a nice, rainy afternoon.
The key here is lots of sleep from Gavin. Naps that are long enough for me to get things done while also being space well enough for me to eat without having to worry about entertaining him at the same time. We got to play, but he was never overly fussy or hyperactive. And he still went to bed at 7:30.
If I really wanted to get him on a schedule, this is the one I'd probably aim for. But if every day were like this, I wouldn't appreciate it properly. Plus I'd have a hard time running errands, with Gavin sleeping all the time. Its worthless anyway. Part of the reason that he isn't on a schedule is that every time I thought I had him on one, something would change (he'd get sick or hit a growth spurt) and the whole thing would get thrown out the window. So I'll just appreciate these days as they come, relish in the relatively rare feeling of being well-rested, and be grateful that my kid is so easy.
Wednesday, May 3, 2017
Six Months (Or Not)
I've been meaning to do a Six Month post for Gavin. Just like I was meaning to do a Two Month post. But I'm not terribly interested in writing one. I know that someday I'm going to want to look back at all these milestones. My memory will become hazy, and it will be nice to have an artifact to remind me of what life is like. Well, future-me will just have to curse present-me (past-me?) for never getting around to it.
Gavin is still changing on an almost daily basis, but sometimes it seems like he's not making progress. Which isn't true, it's just that some of that progress is slower or more subtle than I can discern. Combine that with a tendency to think he's more advanced than he is (one I'm trying to fight back against so as not to place undue expectations on him), and I feel like I've been repeating myself for weeks. Gavin is close to crawling. (He has been close to crawling for a month now.) Gavin is teething. (He has been teething for ever.) Gavin comes up with a new sound every few days and repeats it over and over until he stumbles across another new sound. (Gavin has been doing this for months.)
The interesting bits are in the details. The day he managed to do a full push-up (or full upward dog). The fact that he's incorporating his lips in the sounds now. It's hard to capture in a blog post. Hard to distill it down to a snapshot of a person. It doesn't come close to painting the whole picture anyway.
So I'm looking for stories to tell. Trying to come up with anecdotes and vignettes that give a feeling for what life is like, even if they shed some of the details. And maybe this blog will end up being no better than my own memory. At least it will be me.
Gavin is still changing on an almost daily basis, but sometimes it seems like he's not making progress. Which isn't true, it's just that some of that progress is slower or more subtle than I can discern. Combine that with a tendency to think he's more advanced than he is (one I'm trying to fight back against so as not to place undue expectations on him), and I feel like I've been repeating myself for weeks. Gavin is close to crawling. (He has been close to crawling for a month now.) Gavin is teething. (He has been teething for ever.) Gavin comes up with a new sound every few days and repeats it over and over until he stumbles across another new sound. (Gavin has been doing this for months.)
The interesting bits are in the details. The day he managed to do a full push-up (or full upward dog). The fact that he's incorporating his lips in the sounds now. It's hard to capture in a blog post. Hard to distill it down to a snapshot of a person. It doesn't come close to painting the whole picture anyway.
So I'm looking for stories to tell. Trying to come up with anecdotes and vignettes that give a feeling for what life is like, even if they shed some of the details. And maybe this blog will end up being no better than my own memory. At least it will be me.
Wednesday, April 26, 2017
Switching to Formula
The choice of how to feed your new human is one of the most fraught choices in a life that is suddenly full of them. The options are to breastfeed or to use formula. There are pros and cons to each. There are people who have strong opinions about both and are eager to share those opinions with you. Even if you haven't asked for them. Even if you've specifically asked them not to share.
This is true of every decision you make as a new parent, of course. Which stroller is the best? How do you pick a car seat? Is it actually necessary to pay more for the special laundry detergent? How many toys is too many toys? But the breast milk vs formula decision is harder. It's much more personal and gets tied up with all sorts of body image issues and what it means to be a good mom. Which is probably why so many moms are so quick to defend their own choices. Kevin has been absolutely wonderful and a partner in every way during this whole process, but there is a point where this becomes my decision and my struggle and he simply can't be there with me the way he was when we picked a stroller.
On some level it's been similar to the natural child birth vs cesarean section decision we faced early on. Gavin is big, and he has a big head, and we suspected from the beginning that this would be true. Even before I got pregnant I was mentally preparing myself for the possibility that I would need to have a c-section. I got push back from any number of surprising places, and it contributed to my nightmares the night before I was induced. But ultimately the decision was placed in the hands of my doctor, and my labor was relatively quick and easy as these things go.
There are two key ways in which feeding my kid has differed from birthing him. First, there's no doctor who's going to be the ultimate authority on this. There shouldn't be. It makes it hard to wash my hands of responsibility, even though I know there isn't a wrong decision. Second, the breastfeeding vs formula has proven to be a much more ongoing source of stress. It's not a decision I could push off into the future, actively engage with for a few hours, and then move past with hardly a second thought.
No; this conversation has been happening for weeks, both in my head and with Kevin. Strangers are quick to offer their opinions, and doctors have been reluctant to say anything definitive. I have opinions and feelings of my own, as does Kevin. And then there's Gavin, who is now old enough to have and express opinions but not old enough to argue or reason.
But perhaps the hardest thing of all is that this dilemma and my reaction to it have taken me completely by surprise. I really thought I'd be above it. My brother and I were both formula-fed and we turned out fine, so I know there's nothing wrong with feeding my son formula. Back when I was pregnant I told myself and Kevin that I would try breast-feeding but I wouldn't kill myself over it. I said that if the process of breast-feeding ever reduced me to tears I would switch to formula then and there, because it wasn't worth it.
Kevin gently reminded me that I would be hormonal and susceptible to crying in the first few days, and that this was probably not the best metric to use.
Breast-feeding was hard in the beginning. Gavin's mouth was too small for my nipples, and sometimes it felt like I needed three hands to wrangle both him and my boob. But it was actually one of the few things that didn't cause tears in those first few days when I cried at the drop of a hat. Every problem that came up had a solution, and those problems came up one at a time. I used a nipple shield. I fed him every hour until my milk finally came in. I dealt with chapped nipples and bleeding nipples, with clogged ducts and milk blisters, with a lopsided milk supply and a baby who occasionally ate for an hour straight.
By the time Gavin was six weeks old, I looked back at everything I'd dealt with and told myself that if I'd seen those problems looming six weeks earlier, I'd have gone with formula from the beginning. But we made it through, and breast feeding became easy and convenient and wonderful.
And now we come to the beginning of the dilemma. Breastfeeding is amazing, and pumping is arguably the worst thing in the world. At some point, the bad outweighs the good.
I would like to continue to breast feed my son until he is a year old at least.
I would like to never pump again.
My brain is at war with my heart, and it's taking all I have to muddle through this transition without tearing myself apart. And of course it's not even as simple as that.
Breastfeeding is so convenient, especially in the middle of the night. Preparing a bottle of formula adds time to the feeding, precious minutes when I could be sleeping. On the other hand, Kevin can give him the formula, allowing me to get even more sleep than I would otherwise. Moreover, the formula takes longer to digest, which should result in Gavin sleeping longer, making this a moot point.
I want to get my time back. I currently plan my life around the fact that I need to either feed Gavin or pump every three hours, both of which take roughly 20 minutes during which time I can't do anything else. I'd like to attend a 5 hour work event next week without having to leave to pump halfway through. I'd like to go to my friend's bachelorette party in a few weeks (and her wedding a few weeks after that) and leave my son with a sitter and not spend the whole night obsessing about how much milk he's drinking while I'm gone and whether I'll be able to replace it before he goes to daycare. I want this part of my life back, and that's a perfectly reasonable thing to want, but I still feel selfish for wanting it.
Every reasonable argument points to transitioning my song to formula. That's why we're doing it. The problem is all the unreasonable arguments, many of which are tied to how I relate to my body.
Before I got pregnant, it seemed like I was losing control of my body. I started gaining weight around my 23rd birthday, and there was nothing I could do to lose it again. I could stop gaining weight for a few months if I went to the gym religiously, but I could never lose any. I did okay with strength-training, but I always struggled with balance and flexibility. My weak ankles and knees and back (souvenirs from a decade of ballet lessons) kept slowing or halting my progress.
But then we decided to have a kid, and I got pregnant almost immediately. For the most part I enjoyed being pregnant and my labor was easier than it had any right to be, considering the size of my kid. Finally, my body was doing exactly what I wanted it to do. I've wanted kids for my entire life, and my body's cooperation in this (when it seemed to fight me on everything else) was incredibly affirming. Even at my largest, I felt like a goddess. I felt like a mother.
Breast-feeding was easier than I expected it to be. I was going to be one of those mothers who breast-fed until the 12 month mark and then easily transitioned to a diet of solid foods. It didn't hurt that, for the first time since I'd been on a liquid diet, I was losing weight. Effortlessly! Not quickly, but steadily, the number on the scale kept going down. I weigh less now than I did when I got pregnant, less than I did on my wedding day, less than when Kevin proposed.
And so the feeling of failure is twofold. That I can no longer provide enough milk for my son goes to this primal part of my brain and says that I'm not as good a mother as I thought I was. Which is completely untrue, but you can't argue with a feeling. There's also a nebulous fear that I will stop breastfeeding and immediately put on all the weight I lost and then some.
At least one facet of this is anger that my body is taking this decision out of my hands. A sense that I am once again losing control, that my body and I are no longer united in a common goal. It's like the opposite of when women talk about getting their bodies back after pregnancy.
After much back and forth, we've reached a compromise. We'll be giving Gavin formula instead of breast milk once a day for the foreseeable future. I'll still have to pump. I'll still get to breastfeed. But it's a step I can't take back. The less I feed him, the less I'll be able to feed him. Before I know it, breastfeeding will be in our past entirely. I feel like I'm losing something that I can't quite articulate. I didn't expect the sense of loss to be quite so profound.
This is true of every decision you make as a new parent, of course. Which stroller is the best? How do you pick a car seat? Is it actually necessary to pay more for the special laundry detergent? How many toys is too many toys? But the breast milk vs formula decision is harder. It's much more personal and gets tied up with all sorts of body image issues and what it means to be a good mom. Which is probably why so many moms are so quick to defend their own choices. Kevin has been absolutely wonderful and a partner in every way during this whole process, but there is a point where this becomes my decision and my struggle and he simply can't be there with me the way he was when we picked a stroller.
On some level it's been similar to the natural child birth vs cesarean section decision we faced early on. Gavin is big, and he has a big head, and we suspected from the beginning that this would be true. Even before I got pregnant I was mentally preparing myself for the possibility that I would need to have a c-section. I got push back from any number of surprising places, and it contributed to my nightmares the night before I was induced. But ultimately the decision was placed in the hands of my doctor, and my labor was relatively quick and easy as these things go.
There are two key ways in which feeding my kid has differed from birthing him. First, there's no doctor who's going to be the ultimate authority on this. There shouldn't be. It makes it hard to wash my hands of responsibility, even though I know there isn't a wrong decision. Second, the breastfeeding vs formula has proven to be a much more ongoing source of stress. It's not a decision I could push off into the future, actively engage with for a few hours, and then move past with hardly a second thought.
No; this conversation has been happening for weeks, both in my head and with Kevin. Strangers are quick to offer their opinions, and doctors have been reluctant to say anything definitive. I have opinions and feelings of my own, as does Kevin. And then there's Gavin, who is now old enough to have and express opinions but not old enough to argue or reason.
But perhaps the hardest thing of all is that this dilemma and my reaction to it have taken me completely by surprise. I really thought I'd be above it. My brother and I were both formula-fed and we turned out fine, so I know there's nothing wrong with feeding my son formula. Back when I was pregnant I told myself and Kevin that I would try breast-feeding but I wouldn't kill myself over it. I said that if the process of breast-feeding ever reduced me to tears I would switch to formula then and there, because it wasn't worth it.
Kevin gently reminded me that I would be hormonal and susceptible to crying in the first few days, and that this was probably not the best metric to use.
Breast-feeding was hard in the beginning. Gavin's mouth was too small for my nipples, and sometimes it felt like I needed three hands to wrangle both him and my boob. But it was actually one of the few things that didn't cause tears in those first few days when I cried at the drop of a hat. Every problem that came up had a solution, and those problems came up one at a time. I used a nipple shield. I fed him every hour until my milk finally came in. I dealt with chapped nipples and bleeding nipples, with clogged ducts and milk blisters, with a lopsided milk supply and a baby who occasionally ate for an hour straight.
By the time Gavin was six weeks old, I looked back at everything I'd dealt with and told myself that if I'd seen those problems looming six weeks earlier, I'd have gone with formula from the beginning. But we made it through, and breast feeding became easy and convenient and wonderful.
And now we come to the beginning of the dilemma. Breastfeeding is amazing, and pumping is arguably the worst thing in the world. At some point, the bad outweighs the good.
I would like to continue to breast feed my son until he is a year old at least.
I would like to never pump again.
My brain is at war with my heart, and it's taking all I have to muddle through this transition without tearing myself apart. And of course it's not even as simple as that.
Breastfeeding is so convenient, especially in the middle of the night. Preparing a bottle of formula adds time to the feeding, precious minutes when I could be sleeping. On the other hand, Kevin can give him the formula, allowing me to get even more sleep than I would otherwise. Moreover, the formula takes longer to digest, which should result in Gavin sleeping longer, making this a moot point.
I want to get my time back. I currently plan my life around the fact that I need to either feed Gavin or pump every three hours, both of which take roughly 20 minutes during which time I can't do anything else. I'd like to attend a 5 hour work event next week without having to leave to pump halfway through. I'd like to go to my friend's bachelorette party in a few weeks (and her wedding a few weeks after that) and leave my son with a sitter and not spend the whole night obsessing about how much milk he's drinking while I'm gone and whether I'll be able to replace it before he goes to daycare. I want this part of my life back, and that's a perfectly reasonable thing to want, but I still feel selfish for wanting it.
Every reasonable argument points to transitioning my song to formula. That's why we're doing it. The problem is all the unreasonable arguments, many of which are tied to how I relate to my body.
Before I got pregnant, it seemed like I was losing control of my body. I started gaining weight around my 23rd birthday, and there was nothing I could do to lose it again. I could stop gaining weight for a few months if I went to the gym religiously, but I could never lose any. I did okay with strength-training, but I always struggled with balance and flexibility. My weak ankles and knees and back (souvenirs from a decade of ballet lessons) kept slowing or halting my progress.
But then we decided to have a kid, and I got pregnant almost immediately. For the most part I enjoyed being pregnant and my labor was easier than it had any right to be, considering the size of my kid. Finally, my body was doing exactly what I wanted it to do. I've wanted kids for my entire life, and my body's cooperation in this (when it seemed to fight me on everything else) was incredibly affirming. Even at my largest, I felt like a goddess. I felt like a mother.
Breast-feeding was easier than I expected it to be. I was going to be one of those mothers who breast-fed until the 12 month mark and then easily transitioned to a diet of solid foods. It didn't hurt that, for the first time since I'd been on a liquid diet, I was losing weight. Effortlessly! Not quickly, but steadily, the number on the scale kept going down. I weigh less now than I did when I got pregnant, less than I did on my wedding day, less than when Kevin proposed.
And so the feeling of failure is twofold. That I can no longer provide enough milk for my son goes to this primal part of my brain and says that I'm not as good a mother as I thought I was. Which is completely untrue, but you can't argue with a feeling. There's also a nebulous fear that I will stop breastfeeding and immediately put on all the weight I lost and then some.
At least one facet of this is anger that my body is taking this decision out of my hands. A sense that I am once again losing control, that my body and I are no longer united in a common goal. It's like the opposite of when women talk about getting their bodies back after pregnancy.
After much back and forth, we've reached a compromise. We'll be giving Gavin formula instead of breast milk once a day for the foreseeable future. I'll still have to pump. I'll still get to breastfeed. But it's a step I can't take back. The less I feed him, the less I'll be able to feed him. Before I know it, breastfeeding will be in our past entirely. I feel like I'm losing something that I can't quite articulate. I didn't expect the sense of loss to be quite so profound.
Friday, April 21, 2017
Flexible Rigor
In 2016 my New Year's Resolution was to be more flexible. I meant this both physically and mentally. To the first point - I was a ballerina for ten years and was only ever barely able to touch my toes. Forget the splits, which I did exactly once shortly before a back injury ended my ballet career forever. And to the second one, I can get a bit stuck in my routines. I wanted to work on it.
Of course then I got pregnant, and my daily yoga went out the window. First because I was too exhausted to do anything other than eat dinner after getting home from work. And then because I was too pregnant to move. I did touch my toes once before I quit yoga completely. But I also lost the ability to put on socks and shoes earlier in my pregnancy than most. Though in my defense, I got larger than most (and gave birth to a 10 lb 3 oz monster of a baby).
But pregnancy did force me to become more flexible mentally. As my body made demands on me I had to become more comfortable letting certain things go or find new ways to get them done. Having a newborn only amplified this. It's something I'm still working on, but I think I'm making progress.
The solution has actually been to rely even more on my routines. This difference has been to make those routines more modular. I break up longer tasks to their basic components and do what I can when I can. My morning routine used to be a non-negotiable hour from which any variation could throw off my entire day. Now I've managed to work it out so that I can get interrupted by a crying baby and feed him without really missing a beat. I had to sacrifice some sleep, but it results in a less stressful morning overall.
The other aspect of this is that I started a bullet journal. Which is a trendy pintrest thing that I totally scoffed at until Kevin's most recent business trip forced me to get even more organized. Basically it's a to-do list broken up by day, but you can also add notes and events. And it's flexible enough to handle a shifting schedule. If I can't do something, I move it to the next day (or the next week). It's helping me figure out what I'm actually capable of on any given day and celebrate the small victories.
This newfound flexibility has been absolutely crucial in the past few months. The thing about babies is that no matter how hard you try to get them on a set schedule, they will thwart you. As soon as a routine develops, something happen to throw it off. And all you can do is roll with it. I'm still working on this. A lack of flexibility on my part is probably why it took me so long to get back into the world. But as Gavin gets older (and when we add a second kid to the mix) I'll really have no choice but to let things go. All I can do is prepare as much as possible at my own pace.
Of course then I got pregnant, and my daily yoga went out the window. First because I was too exhausted to do anything other than eat dinner after getting home from work. And then because I was too pregnant to move. I did touch my toes once before I quit yoga completely. But I also lost the ability to put on socks and shoes earlier in my pregnancy than most. Though in my defense, I got larger than most (and gave birth to a 10 lb 3 oz monster of a baby).
But pregnancy did force me to become more flexible mentally. As my body made demands on me I had to become more comfortable letting certain things go or find new ways to get them done. Having a newborn only amplified this. It's something I'm still working on, but I think I'm making progress.
The solution has actually been to rely even more on my routines. This difference has been to make those routines more modular. I break up longer tasks to their basic components and do what I can when I can. My morning routine used to be a non-negotiable hour from which any variation could throw off my entire day. Now I've managed to work it out so that I can get interrupted by a crying baby and feed him without really missing a beat. I had to sacrifice some sleep, but it results in a less stressful morning overall.
The other aspect of this is that I started a bullet journal. Which is a trendy pintrest thing that I totally scoffed at until Kevin's most recent business trip forced me to get even more organized. Basically it's a to-do list broken up by day, but you can also add notes and events. And it's flexible enough to handle a shifting schedule. If I can't do something, I move it to the next day (or the next week). It's helping me figure out what I'm actually capable of on any given day and celebrate the small victories.
This newfound flexibility has been absolutely crucial in the past few months. The thing about babies is that no matter how hard you try to get them on a set schedule, they will thwart you. As soon as a routine develops, something happen to throw it off. And all you can do is roll with it. I'm still working on this. A lack of flexibility on my part is probably why it took me so long to get back into the world. But as Gavin gets older (and when we add a second kid to the mix) I'll really have no choice but to let things go. All I can do is prepare as much as possible at my own pace.
Thursday, April 20, 2017
And We're Back
Blogging with an infant turned out to be a lot harder than I expected it to be. I did alright when Gavin was really small. But then he got older and more interesting and started taking more of my time and attention. Plus I went back to work. I had to prioritize my time and blogging was the thing that suffered. The thing that's been hardest to integrate back in to my life.
But I think I'm getting there. Part of the problem is that I was, on some level, resisting this place turning into a mommy blog. The only thing I wanted to write about was Gavin, but I didn't want my entire blog to be about him. While I was searching for something else to write about, the backlog of things I felt like I should be writing about kept getting longer and longer. Learning to be a single mother when Kevin went on his first business trip, our vacation in Hawaii, various milestones liking rolling over, mastering the use of his hands, and starting solid foods. It got so overwhelming that every time I went to write something, I got stressed out. And that's not what this is supposed to be. My blog is a release valve, a place to vent my stress. It shouldn't be a source of it.
So I gave myself permission to stop. And I didn't write for a while. I felt the need at one point, and I caught up on my book blog instead. Life happened, and I focused on figuring out my new normal. What does motherhood look like in the day-to-day and how do I integrate all my pre-baby interests into my life now that so much of it centers on my kid.
When I needed it, my blog was still waiting, as I knew it would be.
So here we are. A lot has happened since I last updated. I'm beginning to feel like a whole person again, not just a mother. Though being a mother has become undeniably central to my identity, it isn't the whole of me. It's taken me longer to get here than I thought it would, longer than I suspect it takes many mothers. Or maybe not. Maybe everyone has to take half a year (or more) to ease back in to life after a disruption of this magnitude.
The point is that I think I'm back. I think I've figured out how to carve out the time for this blog, and I finally feel a need for it again. So expect the updates. I'm sorry if they all end up being about my son. I still like reading and cooking and riding my bike, but it all seems to revolve around him now. And I guess my writing will too. That's not a bad thing, but it is a bigger mental adjustment than I was prepared for.
But I think I'm getting there. Part of the problem is that I was, on some level, resisting this place turning into a mommy blog. The only thing I wanted to write about was Gavin, but I didn't want my entire blog to be about him. While I was searching for something else to write about, the backlog of things I felt like I should be writing about kept getting longer and longer. Learning to be a single mother when Kevin went on his first business trip, our vacation in Hawaii, various milestones liking rolling over, mastering the use of his hands, and starting solid foods. It got so overwhelming that every time I went to write something, I got stressed out. And that's not what this is supposed to be. My blog is a release valve, a place to vent my stress. It shouldn't be a source of it.
So I gave myself permission to stop. And I didn't write for a while. I felt the need at one point, and I caught up on my book blog instead. Life happened, and I focused on figuring out my new normal. What does motherhood look like in the day-to-day and how do I integrate all my pre-baby interests into my life now that so much of it centers on my kid.
When I needed it, my blog was still waiting, as I knew it would be.
So here we are. A lot has happened since I last updated. I'm beginning to feel like a whole person again, not just a mother. Though being a mother has become undeniably central to my identity, it isn't the whole of me. It's taken me longer to get here than I thought it would, longer than I suspect it takes many mothers. Or maybe not. Maybe everyone has to take half a year (or more) to ease back in to life after a disruption of this magnitude.
The point is that I think I'm back. I think I've figured out how to carve out the time for this blog, and I finally feel a need for it again. So expect the updates. I'm sorry if they all end up being about my son. I still like reading and cooking and riding my bike, but it all seems to revolve around him now. And I guess my writing will too. That's not a bad thing, but it is a bigger mental adjustment than I was prepared for.
Tuesday, December 6, 2016
Becoming People
The sixth week of Gavin's life was the best week yet. He grew noticeably, both physically and mentally. And I was able to start getting stuff done around the house. It was a giant leap forward in me feeling like a person again.
Up until this week, Gavin had been alternating a 5-6 hour nap with 5-6 hour marathon feeding sessions. Not that he ate continuously for 5 or 6 hours. But he ate every hour for 20-30 minutes. It was often all I could do to find time to pee and eat between feeding sessions. There was no time for anything else. Though I did watch an insane amount of TV.
But Gavin has finally evened out, and is eating every 3-4 hours pretty consistently. It makes for a slightly more sleepless night (though Kevin and I have a good tag-team set up that helps). It also makes it a lot easier to get stuff done during the day. So on Monday, I was able to put Gavin down for a nap in the afternoon and clean the whole kitchen. Over the rest of the week I managed to clean the entire upper floor of the house. Kevin's been making fun of me for being so excited about this, but it's really nice to feel productive again.
Gavin has also been a lot more fun this week. He's more awake and alert. We've started doing tummy time every day, and I play with him a bit. He's not entirely interested in his toys yet, but he seems to stare at them with intent. At least for a little while. And he has this piano he plays by kicking that he seems to have fun with. It's hard to tell, but I'm sure he's only going to get more interesting.
He's also bigger. Clothes that he was swimming in a few weeks ago now fit perfectly. Which probably means that we only have a week or two of wear left in them. We've got some 3-6-month clothing that he should be able to wear soon. We're also expecting to have to buy some more clothes before we do the Christmas family tour. And he just graduated to the next size up of diapers, which happened surprisingly quickly. We ended up giving a whole bunch of diapers to neighbors because Gavin got too big.
I'm excited for Gavin to learn even more tricks and to get closer to being on a schedule. But for now it's nice to have reliable chunks of time when I can do things, even if the timing isn't entirely predictable. The nice thing about maternity leave is that my schedule is completely flexible right now. And we're so close to smiles and laughs and an actual interactive person. I can't wait
Up until this week, Gavin had been alternating a 5-6 hour nap with 5-6 hour marathon feeding sessions. Not that he ate continuously for 5 or 6 hours. But he ate every hour for 20-30 minutes. It was often all I could do to find time to pee and eat between feeding sessions. There was no time for anything else. Though I did watch an insane amount of TV.
But Gavin has finally evened out, and is eating every 3-4 hours pretty consistently. It makes for a slightly more sleepless night (though Kevin and I have a good tag-team set up that helps). It also makes it a lot easier to get stuff done during the day. So on Monday, I was able to put Gavin down for a nap in the afternoon and clean the whole kitchen. Over the rest of the week I managed to clean the entire upper floor of the house. Kevin's been making fun of me for being so excited about this, but it's really nice to feel productive again.
Gavin has also been a lot more fun this week. He's more awake and alert. We've started doing tummy time every day, and I play with him a bit. He's not entirely interested in his toys yet, but he seems to stare at them with intent. At least for a little while. And he has this piano he plays by kicking that he seems to have fun with. It's hard to tell, but I'm sure he's only going to get more interesting.
He's also bigger. Clothes that he was swimming in a few weeks ago now fit perfectly. Which probably means that we only have a week or two of wear left in them. We've got some 3-6-month clothing that he should be able to wear soon. We're also expecting to have to buy some more clothes before we do the Christmas family tour. And he just graduated to the next size up of diapers, which happened surprisingly quickly. We ended up giving a whole bunch of diapers to neighbors because Gavin got too big.
I'm excited for Gavin to learn even more tricks and to get closer to being on a schedule. But for now it's nice to have reliable chunks of time when I can do things, even if the timing isn't entirely predictable. The nice thing about maternity leave is that my schedule is completely flexible right now. And we're so close to smiles and laughs and an actual interactive person. I can't wait
Friday, December 2, 2016
Thanksgiving
For the week of Thanksgiving, Kevin's sister and her new husband came to stay with us and meet their nephew. They cooked the big meal at our house, which was beyond convenient for me. And Gavin even slept through the entire meal, like a little angel.
Erin and Alex were out here for an entire week, and it was nice to visit with them, since we see them so rarely. They spent a lot of time holding Gavin and were a great help in getting him to calm down. Erin even changed a few diapers, making her the first person other than Kevin and me to do so.
Gavin continued to be adorable and lovable. He's still mostly a lump, but he's starting to be more responsive. His involuntary smiles are really cute and have me excited to see the real ones. And sometimes he grunts a bit when he smiles, which has me eager for baby giggles. He also spends a lot of time grunting and otherwise vocalizing, making us think he's going to be a talker. So long as he's not an extrovert I'll be happy.
Erin and Alex were out here for an entire week, and it was nice to visit with them, since we see them so rarely. They spent a lot of time holding Gavin and were a great help in getting him to calm down. Erin even changed a few diapers, making her the first person other than Kevin and me to do so.
Gavin continued to be adorable and lovable. He's still mostly a lump, but he's starting to be more responsive. His involuntary smiles are really cute and have me excited to see the real ones. And sometimes he grunts a bit when he smiles, which has me eager for baby giggles. He also spends a lot of time grunting and otherwise vocalizing, making us think he's going to be a talker. So long as he's not an extrovert I'll be happy.
Thursday, December 1, 2016
Setbacks
A few hours after my mom left, I developed a pain in my lower back. It felt like I'd pulled a muscle, and I assumed I must have done something. But no matter how much I thought about it, I couldn't come up with any sort of triggering injury. I thought maybe I'd done something simple that was amplified by my extreme weight loss. I'd been losing almost a pound a day since Gavin was born, and I know that can make you susceptible to injury.
When neither rest nor stretching nor ice helped my back feel better, I started thinking it was a pinched nerve. It took over a week before Kevin convinced me to go to the doctor where I got my shingles diagnosis. In the meantime, I was confined to the couch. It was a real let down, after such an active week. But it took me three or four days just to wash the sheets on the guest bed so we'd be prepared for the next guests. And my grand plans of cleaning the house (or at least the toilets and floors) were thrown out. Luckily we were able to hire a professional cleaning service to come through and keep the house somewhat in order.
The shingles was exacerbated by Trump's win, which was a serious shock. I was almost glad to have a physical reason to stay on the couch for a while. During Gavin's third week of life, I let my world shrink. I focused on taking care of him and taking care of myself. I watched a ton of Star Trek in an attempt to feel optimistic about the future (turns out Deep Space Nine is not the right series if this is your goal).
At the end of this week, my dad and his girlfriend came to visit, and Gavin started to learn some new tricks. He seemed able to make eye contact and to be looking at things with more intent than before. It was exciting to start seeing him make some mental leaps, even if part of me still thinks that we're projecting skills on him before he really has them. We did go out and buy a mobile for his crib, but it was a couple more weeks before he seemed able to focus on it at all.
After dad left, I went to the doctor and started getting treated for my shingles. Just in time for Gavin to develop a second round of thrush that made it painful for him to eat from my left boob. It was just one more in a seemingly never-ending series of minor setbacks. And while we kept powering through, I still wasn't able to focus on anything much bigger than caring for my son.
When neither rest nor stretching nor ice helped my back feel better, I started thinking it was a pinched nerve. It took over a week before Kevin convinced me to go to the doctor where I got my shingles diagnosis. In the meantime, I was confined to the couch. It was a real let down, after such an active week. But it took me three or four days just to wash the sheets on the guest bed so we'd be prepared for the next guests. And my grand plans of cleaning the house (or at least the toilets and floors) were thrown out. Luckily we were able to hire a professional cleaning service to come through and keep the house somewhat in order.
The shingles was exacerbated by Trump's win, which was a serious shock. I was almost glad to have a physical reason to stay on the couch for a while. During Gavin's third week of life, I let my world shrink. I focused on taking care of him and taking care of myself. I watched a ton of Star Trek in an attempt to feel optimistic about the future (turns out Deep Space Nine is not the right series if this is your goal).
At the end of this week, my dad and his girlfriend came to visit, and Gavin started to learn some new tricks. He seemed able to make eye contact and to be looking at things with more intent than before. It was exciting to start seeing him make some mental leaps, even if part of me still thinks that we're projecting skills on him before he really has them. We did go out and buy a mobile for his crib, but it was a couple more weeks before he seemed able to focus on it at all.
After dad left, I went to the doctor and started getting treated for my shingles. Just in time for Gavin to develop a second round of thrush that made it painful for him to eat from my left boob. It was just one more in a seemingly never-ending series of minor setbacks. And while we kept powering through, I still wasn't able to focus on anything much bigger than caring for my son.
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
Mom's Visit
My mom came to visit during Gavin's second week of life. I was insistent that we not have house guests right away, because I wanted time to heal and start to establish a routine without other people around telling me what to do. And I'm really glad I decided to do that. Kevin and I were able to figure out the basics on our own, and by the time my mom showed up we had some stuff figured out.
The whole second week of Gavin's life was great. I was getting almost enough sleep (my mom stayed up with the screaming baby a couple of times, though I still had to get up to feed him and change his diapers). I was feeling good enough to go out and even start taking on some small chores like dishes and laundry. My mom and I went shopping a few times, for clothes for me and baby things. We went out to lunch twice and dinner once. Gavin and I even joined Kevin and Kina on their morning walk every day.
The whole week was great, and by the end of it I was ready to jump back into life. I was confident that I had this whole mom thing under control.
The whole second week of Gavin's life was great. I was getting almost enough sleep (my mom stayed up with the screaming baby a couple of times, though I still had to get up to feed him and change his diapers). I was feeling good enough to go out and even start taking on some small chores like dishes and laundry. My mom and I went shopping a few times, for clothes for me and baby things. We went out to lunch twice and dinner once. Gavin and I even joined Kevin and Kina on their morning walk every day.
The whole week was great, and by the end of it I was ready to jump back into life. I was confident that I had this whole mom thing under control.
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