Gavin turns a year old today, so it seems like a good time to look back and gather some thoughts about this past year and where he is now.
He has six teeth, and I think he's got at least one more coming in right now. It was crazy, because for the longest time he didn't have any teeth even though it seemed like he was teething. Then, around nine months, he got all six within a couple of weeks of each other.
He loves making noise, and I'm basically encouraging it at this point. But it mostly doesn't bother me. He likes throwing things around on the hardwood floor and watching them bounce and spin, and I play with him and do those same things. He likes making high-pitched squeaks and then I'll try to match him and we'll go back and forth until he gets out of my range and I have to concede the contest to him. It's cute and fun, even if it drives other people crazy and is possibly destroying my floors.
He's so close to walking. He can stand. He doesn't even need to pull up on anything anymore - he just stands. And he can balance for a while and hold things and even lean over to pick stuff up and stand back up. He's taken one step and then fallen a handful of times, but nothing that I'd actually call his first steps yet. He also loves bouncing, whether in his crib or while hanging on to a railing or table.
I have taken a shower every single damn day since he was born. I'm entirely too proud of this fact. But showers are my lifeline in a way, and it was important to me not to miss a single one. So even on the day after he was born and I could barely stand, I took a shower in the hospital bathroom. On the day I got a stomach bug and a few months later when I got food poisoning and didn't even get out of bed (except to feed Gavin) until the afternoon, I still took a shower. When he was cranky and refusing to nap, I plopped him in his play pen and turned on Sesame Street and let him scream for 10 minutes. But, damnit, I got my shower every single day. These are the sorts of victories I celebrate now.
I have lost count of how many colds Gavin's gotten and passed around to me and Kevin. There was one fever, but it wasn't bad. And he got a stomach thing, but it was over quick. It sucks when he's sick, because I want him to feel better. On the other hand, he sleeps so much when he's sick, and that's a nice break. Once he was fussy and refusing to be put down, so I ended up laying on the couch and holding him for three hours while he slept and I watched Star Trek. Later that day I complained about how difficult he'd been, and Kevin pointed out that I'd just spent the entire afternoon cuddling with him. So, perspective. In the end nothing's been so terrible.
Gavin has been a fantastic sleeper. He's not a great napper, at least at home. Daycare has never complained, but at home he isn't consistent. Still, I'd rather he sleep through the night and he's great at that. I keep worrying I'm going to jinx it by talking about it, and there have been a few rough patches. He was still waking up a couple of times a night as he approached nine months, and it was getting frustrating. But when I stopped breast-feeding, he started sleeping through the night with very few issues. There was a hiccup when Kevin went out of town for a week and Gavin started waking up with nightmares multiple times a night. That was awful because there was nothing I could do about it, just sit and rock him and try to comfort him. The mental and emotional drain was even worse than the physical fatigue I felt the first couple of weeks he was here. But Kevin came home, and we haven't had an issue since.
I've gotten incredibly organized over the last year. I've always been pretty good at time management, and my time at Harvey Mudd honed that skill. But with a whole other person to keep track of, I couldn't just keep everything in my head anymore. I started writing everything down using the bullet journal system. It basically turned into a series of daily to-do lists, but using a blank notebook for a few months helped me figure out what I wanted in a planner. The physical planner only lasted a couple of months. It was just too heavy to carry around everywhere. And then I finally found a an app that worked for me. It has a good widget on my phone and an easy interface. It connects seamlessly to a desktop version that I can access when I'm at work (where I don't have my phone). It lets me make grocery lists and recurring tasks and set alarms, and it even integrates into my google calendar so I can see everything for the week or month at a glance. I also hung up a color-coded calendar in the kitchen to keep track of the family's schedule. We aren't super busy yet, but it'll be good to have this system in place when things get hectic in a few years.
I have been surprised more than once this year by what I'm capable of doing. Taking care of Gavin on my own while Kevin travels has gotten steadily easier. Asking for help has gotten easier. I've gotten better and figuring out what's important and letting the housework slip sometimes. I've surprised myself by becoming more social. The most surprising thing about parenthood as an introvert is the realization that going out with friends is less exhausting than staying home alone with a baby. It's a hassle to cart around three extra bags of stuff, but it's pretty much always worth it.
So that's where we are, a year in. Brace yourself, because here come the cliches. Parenting is the most exhausting thing I've ever done. I have never in my life been as tired as I was this year, even during college. The thing is, in college, the semester always ended. And while I know childhood ends too, right now it's too far away to register. Parenting is also the easiest, most natural responsibility I've ever taken on. Yes, it's tedious and it can get isolating (especially when you're the first of your friends and family to have kids). But I'm not one of those people who's constantly worried that I'm messing my kid up. I'm perhaps a little lackadaisical (lately other people seem much more concerned about Gavin's proximity to chairs and table corners than I do). But I'm confident that my kid's going to be fine. He has plenty of food and clothes, an abundance of love and attention, a house full of books and toys, and a bunch of really smart people who care about him. That's way more than most people get, and the biggest challenge is just going to be making him appreciate how lucky he is.
I'm so excited for him to start walking and talking. For him to develop interests and opinions. As the poem says, Gavin's only just begun. In this next year I'm looking forward to seeing who he's going to be. I've come to determine that parenthood is really just mastering the art of letting go. Do it too quickly and your kid gets hurt, too slowly and they never grow up. But there's a lot of room for error in there, and all I can do is my best. I can't wait to see what the next year brings.
Tuesday, October 24, 2017
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.
Saturday, September 2, 2017
Vacation
At the end of July, we were finally able to take a real vacation as a family. It wasn't combined with Kevin's work or any other family obligations. Just the three of us on a lake for a week.
We rented a house down at Lake Anna, which is about halfway between DC and Richmond. Some friends came out the first weekend, but after that we had the place to ourselves. It was maybe a little big for just the three of us, but it was one of the few properties that let us bring Kina along.
We spent the week mostly hanging out. We had plans to spend more time in the water, but it ended up being too warm. The lake was built as a heat reservoir for a power plant, and the house we rented was on the warm side. The water temperature was almost 90 degrees, way too warm to be refreshing. Especially on hot, July days. We went out in the canoe a coupe of times, which proved to be a great way to make Gavin fall asleep. But for swimming we had to drive over to the beach on the other side of the lake.
We also went out to a local winery and tried a few restaurants. But for the most part we stayed in. Gavin napped a lot. I read my books. Kevin played Zelda. All in all it was a very relaxing week. I'm glad we were able to find time to get away as a family. Here's hoping this was just the first of many more family vacations to come.
We rented a house down at Lake Anna, which is about halfway between DC and Richmond. Some friends came out the first weekend, but after that we had the place to ourselves. It was maybe a little big for just the three of us, but it was one of the few properties that let us bring Kina along.
We spent the week mostly hanging out. We had plans to spend more time in the water, but it ended up being too warm. The lake was built as a heat reservoir for a power plant, and the house we rented was on the warm side. The water temperature was almost 90 degrees, way too warm to be refreshing. Especially on hot, July days. We went out in the canoe a coupe of times, which proved to be a great way to make Gavin fall asleep. But for swimming we had to drive over to the beach on the other side of the lake.
We also went out to a local winery and tried a few restaurants. But for the most part we stayed in. Gavin napped a lot. I read my books. Kevin played Zelda. All in all it was a very relaxing week. I'm glad we were able to find time to get away as a family. Here's hoping this was just the first of many more family vacations to come.
Friday, September 1, 2017
Stay-cation
At the beginning of July, when Gavin was eight and a half months old, I was able to spend my first full night away from him. Part of me had wanted to get this out of the way sooner, but while I was breastfeeding I could never really spend that much time away from him. Once he started going to daycare I was having a hard enough time pumping enough to supply that. Adding an overnight trip just seemed like more hassle.
But by July he was taking formula often enough - and I was feeding him rarely enough - that I felt comfortable spending the night away. So I gathered my girl friends for a mini stay-cation.
We spent the afternoon at a Korean spa called Spa World. It has a co-ed area with a variety of rooms set to different temperatures. You can lay in any of them, take a nap in the main area, get food, play games, or sit on one of the comfy sofas. There's also an enormous hot tub area. Well, actually there are two - one for men and one for women. We spent several hours there, laying around and talking. Eventually they all took a nap, but I knew that if I fell asleep then I'd probably never wake up again.
Afterwards we went out to dinner and then spent the night in a hotel room. We drank an excessive amount of wine and played games. It was so nice to hang out with my friends and not worry about feeding my baby or getting up at 2 to comfort him or anything. I could actually take a night off and just enjoy myself.
I'm really glad I was able to get a ladies night in between Kevin's various busniess trips. It helped me recharge my batteries, and it was great to have actual, uninterrupted conversations with my friends.
Thursday, August 31, 2017
Work-cation
Back in June, Gavin and I were able to join Kevin on a week-long work trip to Fairbanks, Alaska. Kevin has to work for three days (which sort of stretched into four days), but we took the whole week so we'd have some time to enjoy the scenery as a family.
We went right after the solstice, and Fairbanks is just a couple hundred miles south of the Arctic Circle, so there was a lot of sunlight. Technically, the sun set for a little over two hours every night, but it never dipped far enough below the horizon for the sky to actually get dark. Instead it was a kind of twilight that was really surreal the couple of times I glimpsed it. Despite the lack of night, or maybe because of it, since the hotel room had blackout curtains, Gavin slept like a champ for the entire trip. He took two solid naps every day, which gave me plenty of time to read and watch mindless TV while Kevin was working. The flip side of that is that I spent a lot of time confined to a hotel room with a sleeping baby, but that's not such a bad way to spend a vacation.
That frame of mind is helped by the fact that there isn't a ton to do in Fairbanks, especially without a car. The downtown area is small. Even with my limited time I managed to visit every shop and museum and almost every restaurant. We spent a morning at the children's museum, which had a play area for toddlers. Gavin was a little too young for it, but it was a nice change of pace.
With Kevin along we ventured a little farther out. We took a riverboat cruise and learned about the history of the area. We visited a park that had a number of museums and attractions in addition to the playgrounds and grassy areas. Gavin even got to go on his first train ride around the park. We also went on a short hike around a lake and stopped off at the North Pole. Gavin was sleeping, so we didn't get a picture of him with Santa, but we'll get one this Christmas.
It was a nice, relaxing vacation, and it was fun to see Alaska. I was surprised by how much it reminded me of Colorado, except without the mountains. The climate and wildlife were so similar to what I grew up with that I wasn't as awed as I probably ought to have been. I was surprised at how warm it was, and was especially weirded out that it kept getting warmer late into the day. When the sun doesn't set until after midnight, the temperature is still rising at dinner-time. I'm used to it cooling off by then.
With this trip, Gavin has completed his tour of the non contiguous United States, traveling as far north and west as Kevin and I have ever been. Too bad he won't remember any of it. I guess we'll just have to go back when he's older.
We went right after the solstice, and Fairbanks is just a couple hundred miles south of the Arctic Circle, so there was a lot of sunlight. Technically, the sun set for a little over two hours every night, but it never dipped far enough below the horizon for the sky to actually get dark. Instead it was a kind of twilight that was really surreal the couple of times I glimpsed it. Despite the lack of night, or maybe because of it, since the hotel room had blackout curtains, Gavin slept like a champ for the entire trip. He took two solid naps every day, which gave me plenty of time to read and watch mindless TV while Kevin was working. The flip side of that is that I spent a lot of time confined to a hotel room with a sleeping baby, but that's not such a bad way to spend a vacation.
That frame of mind is helped by the fact that there isn't a ton to do in Fairbanks, especially without a car. The downtown area is small. Even with my limited time I managed to visit every shop and museum and almost every restaurant. We spent a morning at the children's museum, which had a play area for toddlers. Gavin was a little too young for it, but it was a nice change of pace.
With Kevin along we ventured a little farther out. We took a riverboat cruise and learned about the history of the area. We visited a park that had a number of museums and attractions in addition to the playgrounds and grassy areas. Gavin even got to go on his first train ride around the park. We also went on a short hike around a lake and stopped off at the North Pole. Gavin was sleeping, so we didn't get a picture of him with Santa, but we'll get one this Christmas.
It was a nice, relaxing vacation, and it was fun to see Alaska. I was surprised by how much it reminded me of Colorado, except without the mountains. The climate and wildlife were so similar to what I grew up with that I wasn't as awed as I probably ought to have been. I was surprised at how warm it was, and was especially weirded out that it kept getting warmer late into the day. When the sun doesn't set until after midnight, the temperature is still rising at dinner-time. I'm used to it cooling off by then.
With this trip, Gavin has completed his tour of the non contiguous United States, traveling as far north and west as Kevin and I have ever been. Too bad he won't remember any of it. I guess we'll just have to go back when he's older.
Wednesday, August 30, 2017
End of Summer
Once again summer has come and gone and I've barely updated this blog. Okay, I haven't written at all. I've mostly managed to keep up with my book blog, but even that has been something of a chore. I go in bursts, writing five or six reviews at once before letting them pile up again.
I suppose this isn't entirely unprecedented. I've had dry spells with this blog before and always managed to come back to it. But none were this long. And I'm left wondering if something fundamental has changed.
The thing is that I want to write. There a bunch of things I keep meaning to blog about: our trips to Alaska, Lake Anna, and Charleston. My first night away from Gavin. All of the cool things Gavin is doing. My feelings about being a parent and what has changed and what hasn't. But first off, it's almost impossible to find time to sit with my computer anymore. And second off, whenever I do find the time, I end up just staring a blank document for a while before I click away to Facebook. It doesn't matter how many entries I compose in my head, the second I find time to write it all flees.
But I've found the time now. The question is whether this is a resurrection or a death rattle. Will I keep going, or will this blog stand as a memorial to a former chapter in my life. Can I find the time and effort to maintain it or should I just let it go?
As much as I've neglected it lately, I'm not ready to stop just yet. I've made some changes in my life that I'm hoping will let me get back to blogging. I've started taking the train to work again instead of driving. It's a slightly longer commute, but it gives me more time to read. That should give me some time back overall - if I'm reading on the train every day maybe I won't be compelled to pick up a book every time I find myself with an extra twenty minutes. I'm also adjusting my work schedule - moving up to five 6-hour days instead of three. Gavin will be in daycare full time, I'll be working more, but I think I might actually end up with more free time. I'll have two extra afternoons a week without Gavin, and that time is way more reliable than his naps.
It's true that parenthood changes you in unexpected ways. I'm much more willing to go out now, to sacrifice a little sleep because I know I can. I was out with neighbors until 11 last Wednesday, and I have tickets to a weekday concert with my brother later in September. It will be my first concert since college, and I'm actually looking forward to it. Maybe because, without Gavin along, it will actually feel more like a night off than a night on.
I'm also more organized - I have to be. I'm better at staying on top of the housework, because I'm so scared of falling behind on it. I'm worse at sleeping but better at functioning on less sleep. Now that I'm sharing all of my food with Gavin, I think I'm eating better, but I'm also trying not to worry about it too much. More fruits and veggies, sure, but there's nothing wrong with the occasionally deep-fried or smothered-in-cheese meal.
With all these changes, I'm hoping that my desire to write sticks with me. I still have dreams and goals in that direction, though they seem a bit farther off now than they did a year or two ago. Right now my biggest goal is to finish my DS9 rewatch before the new Star Trek series premieres, and I'm not sure I'll be able to. Twelve episodes in three and a half weeks should be a piece of cake, but carving out that time is proving tricky. Especially since I've started playing the new Zelda game and am devoting every spare minute to that. But Kevin's taking it with him on his next business trip, and I'll need something to fill the void.
So this is where we stand. There are a million things I want to write about. Thoughts and feelings and records. I want to get them down before they slip away for good. I also want to enjoy every minute with my kid while I can. I'll find the balance. I'm finding it every day.
I suppose this isn't entirely unprecedented. I've had dry spells with this blog before and always managed to come back to it. But none were this long. And I'm left wondering if something fundamental has changed.
The thing is that I want to write. There a bunch of things I keep meaning to blog about: our trips to Alaska, Lake Anna, and Charleston. My first night away from Gavin. All of the cool things Gavin is doing. My feelings about being a parent and what has changed and what hasn't. But first off, it's almost impossible to find time to sit with my computer anymore. And second off, whenever I do find the time, I end up just staring a blank document for a while before I click away to Facebook. It doesn't matter how many entries I compose in my head, the second I find time to write it all flees.
But I've found the time now. The question is whether this is a resurrection or a death rattle. Will I keep going, or will this blog stand as a memorial to a former chapter in my life. Can I find the time and effort to maintain it or should I just let it go?
As much as I've neglected it lately, I'm not ready to stop just yet. I've made some changes in my life that I'm hoping will let me get back to blogging. I've started taking the train to work again instead of driving. It's a slightly longer commute, but it gives me more time to read. That should give me some time back overall - if I'm reading on the train every day maybe I won't be compelled to pick up a book every time I find myself with an extra twenty minutes. I'm also adjusting my work schedule - moving up to five 6-hour days instead of three. Gavin will be in daycare full time, I'll be working more, but I think I might actually end up with more free time. I'll have two extra afternoons a week without Gavin, and that time is way more reliable than his naps.
It's true that parenthood changes you in unexpected ways. I'm much more willing to go out now, to sacrifice a little sleep because I know I can. I was out with neighbors until 11 last Wednesday, and I have tickets to a weekday concert with my brother later in September. It will be my first concert since college, and I'm actually looking forward to it. Maybe because, without Gavin along, it will actually feel more like a night off than a night on.
I'm also more organized - I have to be. I'm better at staying on top of the housework, because I'm so scared of falling behind on it. I'm worse at sleeping but better at functioning on less sleep. Now that I'm sharing all of my food with Gavin, I think I'm eating better, but I'm also trying not to worry about it too much. More fruits and veggies, sure, but there's nothing wrong with the occasionally deep-fried or smothered-in-cheese meal.
With all these changes, I'm hoping that my desire to write sticks with me. I still have dreams and goals in that direction, though they seem a bit farther off now than they did a year or two ago. Right now my biggest goal is to finish my DS9 rewatch before the new Star Trek series premieres, and I'm not sure I'll be able to. Twelve episodes in three and a half weeks should be a piece of cake, but carving out that time is proving tricky. Especially since I've started playing the new Zelda game and am devoting every spare minute to that. But Kevin's taking it with him on his next business trip, and I'll need something to fill the void.
So this is where we stand. There are a million things I want to write about. Thoughts and feelings and records. I want to get them down before they slip away for good. I also want to enjoy every minute with my kid while I can. I'll find the balance. I'm finding it every day.
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.
Friday, June 2, 2017
First Mother's Day
There are people who claim that last year, when I was pregnant, was my first Mother's Day. But for me it felt wrong to celebrate then. Now that I've got an infant, I'm doubling down on that. Last year all I wanted to do was sleep, and there was nothing stopping me from doing just that (well, I did have to get up and walk the dog at some point). This year all I wanted to do was sleep, and despite my best efforts it just didn't happen.
Last year Kevin was out of town for Mother's Day. His mom called me up the week before, and we had the following exchange:
This year, I'm even more pressed to find time for myself. Kevin's still traveling, though not quite as much. Caring for an infant has made me desperate for any and all adult contact while he's away. And when he's home, want to see him and hang out as a family. But all I really wanted for Mother's Day this year was to not be a mother for a little bit.
Thankfully, Kevin had just gotten home from a work trip. So he took Gavin out to get brunch with his mother, and I had a few hours to myself. The original plan was to take a bath or a nap. But life has a way of piling up. I had to do laundry and some dishes and get Kina to and from a grooming appointment. I was able to squeeze in a couple of TV shows around my shores. And even though it wasn't quite the relaxing day I'd been dreaming about, it helped rejuvenate me. Maybe next year, when I'm not quite ass tethered to Gavin, I'll get a longer chunk of time to myself.
Last year Kevin was out of town for Mother's Day. His mom called me up the week before, and we had the following exchange:
Her: What are you doing for Mother's Day?See, Kevin would go on these long trips, and I'd always look forward to spending some time beholden to no one. But with one thing and another, that was the only weekend he was gone that I didn't have an obligation of some sort. And I was guarding that time jealously, knowing that it was running out.
Me: Nothing
Her: Well, would you like to get brunch?
Me: No, you misunderstood. I'm doing nothing this weekend.
This year, I'm even more pressed to find time for myself. Kevin's still traveling, though not quite as much. Caring for an infant has made me desperate for any and all adult contact while he's away. And when he's home, want to see him and hang out as a family. But all I really wanted for Mother's Day this year was to not be a mother for a little bit.
Thankfully, Kevin had just gotten home from a work trip. So he took Gavin out to get brunch with his mother, and I had a few hours to myself. The original plan was to take a bath or a nap. But life has a way of piling up. I had to do laundry and some dishes and get Kina to and from a grooming appointment. I was able to squeeze in a couple of TV shows around my shores. And even though it wasn't quite the relaxing day I'd been dreaming about, it helped rejuvenate me. Maybe next year, when I'm not quite ass tethered to Gavin, I'll get a longer chunk of time to myself.
Tuesday, May 23, 2017
Baby Yoga
As Gavin becomes more mobile and gains control of his body, it's been fun to watch him master various yoga poses.
At three months, he started sleeping on his stomach, in child's pose.
At four months he found his feet, and it wasn't long before he was giggling away in happy baby.
Then came upward dog (which a friend had to point out, because I didn't recognize).
Most surprising was that when he was trying to push himself up to crawl, he ended up in plank.
At three months, he started sleeping on his stomach, in child's pose.
At four months he found his feet, and it wasn't long before he was giggling away in happy baby.
Then came upward dog (which a friend had to point out, because I didn't recognize).
Most surprising was that when he was trying to push himself up to crawl, he ended up in plank.
He can get up on his hands and knees now. He's even pushed up into downward dog a few times, though it's nearly impossible to get a picture of that. We're still waiting for him to start crawling. Who knew how much coordination was involved in mobility.
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.
Wednesday, April 19, 2017
How to Cry Over Spilled Milk
Step one: Hurt your back
Step two: Aggravate the injury by continuing to pick up your kid. Lift him. Hug him. Feed him. Change him. Bend and twist to get him in the car. What else can you do?
Step three: Sleep less. Between the injured back and the growing kid you're back to sleeping in 2 hour chunks. Only this time you also have to go to work and make dinner and walk the dog and on and on.
Step four: Stare at the clock. Count down the minutes until your husband gets home. Hate him a little for being at a bar in Japan while you're at home weighing the pros and cons of sacrificing half an hour of potential sleep to soak in an epsom salt bath. Yearn for a hug and his calm reassurance that this, too, will pass. Settle for the email he sent when he was trying to wake up and you were trying to fall asleep because that 12-hour time difference is killer.
Step five: Wonder if you can convince someone else to come over to the house and take care of the kid overnight so you can rest. But you'd still have to get up to feed him, so you might as well be the one to lift him out of the crib, too. Besides, you're too tired to do anything other than snap at them for failing to help in exactly the right way, and that just leads to guilt and shame and less sleep. Better to power through.
Step six: Pump less than usual and worry about it. Worry about your kid getting enough food at daycare. Worry about whether this is just normal ebb and flow or a sign of your milk drying up. Worry if it's stress or lack of sleep or the Tylenol you're taking. Worry about switching your kid to formula, the hows and the whens. Turn to the internet for advice only to find page after page of mothers imploring you to keep trying to breastfeed which does nothing to alleviate your stress. Or your insomnia. Or your back pain. Decide to table the decision until his doctor's appointment next week.
Step seven: Knock over a bottle of breast milk and watch the three precious ounces spill out and disappear in the crack between the stove and the counter. Wonder how you're going to clean it up. Wonder how you're going to replace it before daycare tomorrow. Wonder how you're going to make it through two more days before your husband gets back.
Step eight: Find the silver lining. You punched through the writer's block.
Step two: Aggravate the injury by continuing to pick up your kid. Lift him. Hug him. Feed him. Change him. Bend and twist to get him in the car. What else can you do?
Step three: Sleep less. Between the injured back and the growing kid you're back to sleeping in 2 hour chunks. Only this time you also have to go to work and make dinner and walk the dog and on and on.
Step four: Stare at the clock. Count down the minutes until your husband gets home. Hate him a little for being at a bar in Japan while you're at home weighing the pros and cons of sacrificing half an hour of potential sleep to soak in an epsom salt bath. Yearn for a hug and his calm reassurance that this, too, will pass. Settle for the email he sent when he was trying to wake up and you were trying to fall asleep because that 12-hour time difference is killer.
Step five: Wonder if you can convince someone else to come over to the house and take care of the kid overnight so you can rest. But you'd still have to get up to feed him, so you might as well be the one to lift him out of the crib, too. Besides, you're too tired to do anything other than snap at them for failing to help in exactly the right way, and that just leads to guilt and shame and less sleep. Better to power through.
Step six: Pump less than usual and worry about it. Worry about your kid getting enough food at daycare. Worry about whether this is just normal ebb and flow or a sign of your milk drying up. Worry if it's stress or lack of sleep or the Tylenol you're taking. Worry about switching your kid to formula, the hows and the whens. Turn to the internet for advice only to find page after page of mothers imploring you to keep trying to breastfeed which does nothing to alleviate your stress. Or your insomnia. Or your back pain. Decide to table the decision until his doctor's appointment next week.
Step seven: Knock over a bottle of breast milk and watch the three precious ounces spill out and disappear in the crack between the stove and the counter. Wonder how you're going to clean it up. Wonder how you're going to replace it before daycare tomorrow. Wonder how you're going to make it through two more days before your husband gets back.
Step eight: Find the silver lining. You punched through the writer's block.
Friday, January 13, 2017
First Christmas
Before Gavin was born, I was told that it's easiest to travel with kids when they're just a few months old. So we decided to take him home for Christmas, when he was just 2 months old, to introduce him to my extended family. The trip ended up being more of a whirlwind than it usually is, as we tried to cram in the entire family in very little time. But Gavin did great, and I'm so glad we were able to get out and introduce him to everyone.
I was worried about the flight, and had read a bunch of tips. We brought my nurxing pillow on the plane so he wouldn't just be sitting in my lap. We brought bottles of milk so he could be sucking on something during takeoff and landing. And then Gavin slept for almost the entire flight. It was magical, and I got to feel smug because the crying baby on that plane wasn't mine.
We went down to my aunt's house for her annual Christmas Eve party. Gavin was quickly overwhelmed by the noise and being the center of attention. But my aunt had set aside my cousin's old bedroom for us so we could escape to somewhere quiet. Kevin and I spent a lot of the first half of the party taking turns sitting with Gavin in there. But after dinner he calmed down enough to come out and meet people.
Christmas day at my mom's was a smaller crowd, and Gavin did much better. He got passed around to everyone who wanted to hold him, ate a ton, and got a bunch of clothes and books.
The next day we went down to my dad's for the third feast in a row and another side of the family. Gavin was a bit grumpier that day; I think all the traveling was getting to him. And he slept terribly that night. Which is to say that he only really slept from midnight to 2:30. But the next day was calmer and he caught up on sleep some.
That evening we flew to Phoenix on what was the longest flight of my life. Even though it's less than 2 hours. It was so bumpy that the fasten seatbelt sign never turned off and the flight attendants didn't even do a drink service. Then Gavin pooped about half an hour in, forcefully enough that it got all over his onesie and blanket and Boppy. Then when we finally landed we had to sit on the runway for a while before we could taxi to the gate. It was awful, and just about all I could do to keep Gavin from screaming the whole time.
Our time in Phoenix was pretty low-key. It helped that we stayed in a hotel there rather than with my family. We went over to my aunt's to visit in the mornings, then to my grandmother's in the evenings, and back to the hotel after dinner. We also managed to get dinner with one of Kevin's oldest friends who's lived there since college.
I was worried about flying home, but it ended up going very smoothly. On the first leg, the plane was empty enough that we were alowed to bring Gavin's carseat on and put him in his own seat, which made a huge difference. And on the second leg he once again slept almost the entire flight. He did get cranky during our layover, and I gave him a bottle in the airport. Which led to me having to pump on the plane. But at least we had carried the pump on so we could do that.
The trip was fast, but it was nice to have the opportunity to show Gavin off to everyone. And he did great on 3 of the 4 plane rides, which isn't too bad. Next up I get to take him on a much longer plane ride all by myself. But I think I can handle it.
I was worried about the flight, and had read a bunch of tips. We brought my nurxing pillow on the plane so he wouldn't just be sitting in my lap. We brought bottles of milk so he could be sucking on something during takeoff and landing. And then Gavin slept for almost the entire flight. It was magical, and I got to feel smug because the crying baby on that plane wasn't mine.
We went down to my aunt's house for her annual Christmas Eve party. Gavin was quickly overwhelmed by the noise and being the center of attention. But my aunt had set aside my cousin's old bedroom for us so we could escape to somewhere quiet. Kevin and I spent a lot of the first half of the party taking turns sitting with Gavin in there. But after dinner he calmed down enough to come out and meet people.
Christmas day at my mom's was a smaller crowd, and Gavin did much better. He got passed around to everyone who wanted to hold him, ate a ton, and got a bunch of clothes and books.
The next day we went down to my dad's for the third feast in a row and another side of the family. Gavin was a bit grumpier that day; I think all the traveling was getting to him. And he slept terribly that night. Which is to say that he only really slept from midnight to 2:30. But the next day was calmer and he caught up on sleep some.
That evening we flew to Phoenix on what was the longest flight of my life. Even though it's less than 2 hours. It was so bumpy that the fasten seatbelt sign never turned off and the flight attendants didn't even do a drink service. Then Gavin pooped about half an hour in, forcefully enough that it got all over his onesie and blanket and Boppy. Then when we finally landed we had to sit on the runway for a while before we could taxi to the gate. It was awful, and just about all I could do to keep Gavin from screaming the whole time.
Our time in Phoenix was pretty low-key. It helped that we stayed in a hotel there rather than with my family. We went over to my aunt's to visit in the mornings, then to my grandmother's in the evenings, and back to the hotel after dinner. We also managed to get dinner with one of Kevin's oldest friends who's lived there since college.
I was worried about flying home, but it ended up going very smoothly. On the first leg, the plane was empty enough that we were alowed to bring Gavin's carseat on and put him in his own seat, which made a huge difference. And on the second leg he once again slept almost the entire flight. He did get cranky during our layover, and I gave him a bottle in the airport. Which led to me having to pump on the plane. But at least we had carried the pump on so we could do that.
The trip was fast, but it was nice to have the opportunity to show Gavin off to everyone. And he did great on 3 of the 4 plane rides, which isn't too bad. Next up I get to take him on a much longer plane ride all by myself. But I think I can handle it.
Thursday, January 12, 2017
First Road Trip
When Gavin was almost 8 weeks old, we drove him up to Boston to meet Kevin's extended family. We broke the drive up as much as we could, using it both to introduce Gavin to as many people as possible and as a dry-run for his first flight the next week. Overall it went really well. It was nice to see so many people. Though the trip was a bit of a whirlwind, and we ended up spending more time in the car than we'd really intended. Also, my boobs were not happy about how long we ended up going between feedings, though Gavin seemed fine.
We left around noon on Friday, with the intent of getting to Kevin's aunt's house, just outside Stamford, CT. This was the longest leg of the journey, and we hit some rush hour traffic near NYC that added some time. But overall it wasn't too bad. Gavin slept almost the entire trip. We pulled off at a rest stop in Delaware so I could wake him up and try to make him eat, and he went back to sleep right after. Then with about five minutes left in the trip he woke up, pooped, and proceeded to scream for the rest of the ride.
We got to Kevin's aunt's and had to go right upstairs to change and feed Gavin. But once he was sated we were able to come down and have a nice meal and visit. Unfortunately, in my desire to visit, I only had Gavin eat on one side, and I ended up with a clogged duct in my still full boob. I spent the rest of the night pumping, applying warm compresses, and massaging to try and get the clog out. I even used my electronic toothbrush at one point to try and break up and move the clog. Somehow it worked, though my breast was tender for a few days. And my breasts continued to be uncomfortably full for the rest of the trip.
The next morning we woke up to a lot more snow than was in the forecast. We spent some time hemming and hawing to try to figure out what to do. Kevin went to investigate the roads and was relieved to discover that outside of his aunt's neighborhood the roads were clear. So we decided to push on to see his family in Massachusetts. The snow did slow us down. What was supposed to be a 2 1/2 hour drive extended to over 4 hours. By the time we got to Kevin's grandmother's I had to pump for almost half an hour and ended up getting 8 oz (as compared to the 4 oz I usually pump).
I realize that I'm spending a lot of time talking about my boobs, but this was the real takeaway from this trip for me. Gavin just sleeps too well in the car, so I wasn't feeding him often enough. If we decide to do another road trip, I'm going to have to come up with a different strategy for feeding the baby.
We had a nice, if short, visit with Kevin's grandmother and other aunt and cousins. Then it was in to the city where we met some friends for dinner and games. Gavin did great with all the commotion, mostly chilling in his bouncer in another room. When he did start to fuss, we took off for our hotel outside the city.
Staying in a hotel went much better than I'd been expecting it to. It was nice to have our own space, as opposed to cramming in to Kevin's cousin's room. It was nice to not be worrying about Gavin waking up other people in the middle of the night. Having a couch made the middle of the night feedings much easier.
In the morning we got up and headed down to NYC where we met up with a bunch of friends for a late lunch. Becca knew a place with enough room for us to park the stroller and meet with a big group of people. It was sort of like an upscale food court, with a bar and a nice, big table tucked away in a corner. We spent a few hours visiting with a bunch of friends. Then it was back on the road so we could get home that night. But not without buying batteries so I could use my breast pump in the car, which made a huge difference on the ride home.
We got home a little after 10. In the days before having a baby, I would have just fallen into bed at this point. But those days are over. I was up for another hour, unpacking and doing dishes and making sure Gavin was good to go before I could go to bed. But I did eventually get to go to bed. The trip was quick and involved a lot of driving. But Gavin did so good traveling that we were feeling a lot better about putting him on a plane a week later.
We left around noon on Friday, with the intent of getting to Kevin's aunt's house, just outside Stamford, CT. This was the longest leg of the journey, and we hit some rush hour traffic near NYC that added some time. But overall it wasn't too bad. Gavin slept almost the entire trip. We pulled off at a rest stop in Delaware so I could wake him up and try to make him eat, and he went back to sleep right after. Then with about five minutes left in the trip he woke up, pooped, and proceeded to scream for the rest of the ride.
We got to Kevin's aunt's and had to go right upstairs to change and feed Gavin. But once he was sated we were able to come down and have a nice meal and visit. Unfortunately, in my desire to visit, I only had Gavin eat on one side, and I ended up with a clogged duct in my still full boob. I spent the rest of the night pumping, applying warm compresses, and massaging to try and get the clog out. I even used my electronic toothbrush at one point to try and break up and move the clog. Somehow it worked, though my breast was tender for a few days. And my breasts continued to be uncomfortably full for the rest of the trip.
The next morning we woke up to a lot more snow than was in the forecast. We spent some time hemming and hawing to try to figure out what to do. Kevin went to investigate the roads and was relieved to discover that outside of his aunt's neighborhood the roads were clear. So we decided to push on to see his family in Massachusetts. The snow did slow us down. What was supposed to be a 2 1/2 hour drive extended to over 4 hours. By the time we got to Kevin's grandmother's I had to pump for almost half an hour and ended up getting 8 oz (as compared to the 4 oz I usually pump).
I realize that I'm spending a lot of time talking about my boobs, but this was the real takeaway from this trip for me. Gavin just sleeps too well in the car, so I wasn't feeding him often enough. If we decide to do another road trip, I'm going to have to come up with a different strategy for feeding the baby.
We had a nice, if short, visit with Kevin's grandmother and other aunt and cousins. Then it was in to the city where we met some friends for dinner and games. Gavin did great with all the commotion, mostly chilling in his bouncer in another room. When he did start to fuss, we took off for our hotel outside the city.
Staying in a hotel went much better than I'd been expecting it to. It was nice to have our own space, as opposed to cramming in to Kevin's cousin's room. It was nice to not be worrying about Gavin waking up other people in the middle of the night. Having a couch made the middle of the night feedings much easier.
In the morning we got up and headed down to NYC where we met up with a bunch of friends for a late lunch. Becca knew a place with enough room for us to park the stroller and meet with a big group of people. It was sort of like an upscale food court, with a bar and a nice, big table tucked away in a corner. We spent a few hours visiting with a bunch of friends. Then it was back on the road so we could get home that night. But not without buying batteries so I could use my breast pump in the car, which made a huge difference on the ride home.
We got home a little after 10. In the days before having a baby, I would have just fallen into bed at this point. But those days are over. I was up for another hour, unpacking and doing dishes and making sure Gavin was good to go before I could go to bed. But I did eventually get to go to bed. The trip was quick and involved a lot of driving. But Gavin did so good traveling that we were feeling a lot better about putting him on a plane a week later.
Wednesday, January 11, 2017
Weight Loss
For the first time in my life, I managed to achieve a weight loss goal I set for myself. Which is to say that I've dropped back down to my pre-pregnancy weight, 11 weeks after giving birth. And since I've been wanting to write about this achievement for years now (as I steadily gained weight), it was the kick I needed to return to this blog. I never meant to neglect it to this degree. But it's so easy to let days or weeks slip by without getting on the computer. There's so much else going on, and my precious free time has mostly been devoted to reading (I also need to catch up on my book blog).
But this is about losing weight and what finally worked for me. It turns out that the key was breastfeeding a baby. Not only am I burning a ton of calories producing his food (he eats ~500 calories/day, which means I'm burning at least that much making milk for him), I have less time to eat. It can take me two hours to make and eat a sandwich. So even though I'm still getting enough to eat, I'm more okay being hungry, which makes it easier to eat a little less. I'm not dieting so much as readjusting after being pregnant and eating everything in sight.
All this has added up to shockingly rapid weight loss. For the first few weeks, I was losing a pound a day. Eventually it slowed down to something more reasonable. Then when I was 5 pounds away from my pre-pregnancy weight, it seemed to stop altogether. I held steady there for a couple of weeks. And just when I I'd given up hope of ever getting back down to where I was, Christmas ended. Once I stopped eating a feast every night with a different group of family member, plus filling up on cookies and sweets between, the last few pounds melted right off.
I'm still hoping to lose some more weight. I'm trying to not set a specific goal, to just be happy with any weight I do lose. And I'm trying to be okay with not losing more weight if that happens, too. But I'm optimistic that I'll be able to lose some more weight in the coming months. I know I'll plateau eventually, I just hope it's at a smaller size than what I've reached in the past several years.
But this is about losing weight and what finally worked for me. It turns out that the key was breastfeeding a baby. Not only am I burning a ton of calories producing his food (he eats ~500 calories/day, which means I'm burning at least that much making milk for him), I have less time to eat. It can take me two hours to make and eat a sandwich. So even though I'm still getting enough to eat, I'm more okay being hungry, which makes it easier to eat a little less. I'm not dieting so much as readjusting after being pregnant and eating everything in sight.
All this has added up to shockingly rapid weight loss. For the first few weeks, I was losing a pound a day. Eventually it slowed down to something more reasonable. Then when I was 5 pounds away from my pre-pregnancy weight, it seemed to stop altogether. I held steady there for a couple of weeks. And just when I I'd given up hope of ever getting back down to where I was, Christmas ended. Once I stopped eating a feast every night with a different group of family member, plus filling up on cookies and sweets between, the last few pounds melted right off.
I'm still hoping to lose some more weight. I'm trying to not set a specific goal, to just be happy with any weight I do lose. And I'm trying to be okay with not losing more weight if that happens, too. But I'm optimistic that I'll be able to lose some more weight in the coming months. I know I'll plateau eventually, I just hope it's at a smaller size than what I've reached in the past several years.
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