The Nursing Curve

It is no surprise to you that I have been MIA on this blog lately.  I want to apologize, but all of my apologetic resources are gone for the day.  They went to the poor lady that had to clean up the 2 pints of rice (and other food) that Tyler dumped on the floor at lunch today.  I promise to apologize when my apologetic abilities have reboosted...tomorrow's promising.

I have recently encountered this strange phenomenom that I'll refer to as the nursing curve.  It goes like this:

People immediately after Ty was born:  "I cannot believe anyone would deprive their baby of breastmilk" - said with judgment and received with awkwardness
People at 6 months:  "Wow, you're still nursing?!  That's amazing!" - said with amazement, received with appreciation
People at 12 months:  "You made it to one year!  You're the best mother ever."  ok no one said that, but they've said it with their eyes.  :)  Received with pride. 
People at 12 months and one day:  "Whoa.  You're STILL nursing?"  - said with judgment, received with awkwardness.

And we've come full circle.  Or we've come to the nursing bell curve.

5x7 Folded Card

Picture In Portrait 5x7 folded card

Cheerful Christmas invitations for your friends and family.

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Oh the places I've breastfed...

1.  next to a teenager on an airplane
2.  in a car, while he was in his car seat (the reality was much, much more awkward then you can picture)
3.  airport bathroom, while standing
4.  airport bathroom, while sitting - ew and ew-er
5.  restaurant (this isn't unusual but its become tricky since all he wants to do is pull the hooter hider over his head)

Traveling with a baby has the potential to be a complete disaster, but I've only ever had pretty good experiences.  This doesn't include the terrible treatment by Delta staff.  All in all though, we travel pretty well I think.

We just returned from a 2 week tour of New York State that included: some good family time, one of my best friend's weddings and our first trip away from Tyler.  I wish I had more pictures!  I'm terrible at that.

In other news, after long discussions and many hours of careful consideration, I'm leaving my full time job at United Way.  I've taken a part time job that will allow me to stay at home with Tyler during the day.  There are a lot of life changes all happening at once, but I'm excited.  We were relatively happy with our working situation and with daycare, but nothing beats (for us) the opportunity to be the one that teaches Tyler at home.  I'm nervous about providing him all the stimulation and experiences that he needs while juggling even a part time workload.  But I will do whatever it takes.  After all, becoming a mother makes you superhero.  I think my super power might just be juggling or eating and not gaining weight.  Okay, so it is definitely not the latter.

till next time...

Finally, a success.

First off, I have to just let you know that SURPRISE I like cottage cheese.  Except, I like to pretend that its not cottage cheese, because the phrase cottage cheese grosses me out.

I digress...

I never imagined that this blog would turn into being only about pregnancy and parenting.  But, what else is going on in my life?  Nearly all of my funny stories now involve either or both of these things.

I have embarked on the homemade baby food making adventure.  This is an adventure that nearly didn't happen, as I just assumed I was too frazzled to add another thing to the mountain of tasks that fill my day.  But, just as all moms, I'm motivated by guilt and intrigued by time management.  Yesterday, my unusually compliant baby went to bed without much fuss.  I was feeling pretty amped about the whole ordeal actually.  That plus the fabulously turquoise new food processor I bought, inspired me to give baby food making my first attempt.  Um, turns out I find baby food making strangely therapeutic.  There is something undeniably great about cutting, steaming and pureeing food.  I'll let you in on a little secret.  I love containers.  I'm a sucker for anything that promises to make my life more organized.  Baby food storage was a wealth of tiny little containers all neatly stacked inside of a bin.  So, as I lined up my little tubs of organic, made with love, neatly labeled baby food, I beamed with pride.  Finally, a success.  I successfully did something that I planned on doing.  I can mark # 37.  Make homemade baby food off of my list.  I'm afraid #38, find a way to sleep while folding laundry will have to wait.

In other news, Ty hates solid foods.  He actually gagged on avocado.  Who gags on delicious avocado?!  Anyone want some tubs of delicious, organic, made with love, neatly labeled baby food? 

:)  I love this guy.

naked play!!

Parenting: The best club I never signed up for

Now that I'm a parent, I have started noticing all kinds of new things like:
1.  How much I love reading articles/blogs about the antics of children (case and point:  http://jasongood.net/365/2011/11/day-319-self-help-advice-from-a-2-year-old/ - thank you Elizabeth! and http://thestir.cafemom.com/baby/116998/lesson_12_working_moms_vs)
2.  How I won't even HESITATE to wipe cream all over Tyler's butt or pick a giant booger from his nose
3.  The joy of eating 2/3rds of my dinners cold
4.  The spacial arrangement of restaurants, stores, everywhere.  Will I hit every table with my car seat and can I squeeze the stroller through there?
5.  Turns out I can live on nearly no sleep and go 2 days between showers
6.  We are now those people that rush home at 6:30pm no matter where we are, bc god forbid our son go to bed late.  Neither of us want to pay the price of baby sleep deprivation
7.  I no longer like sunrises.  At all.  Ever.

Tyler's baptism is this weekend (Make sure child gets into heaven - check) and Chris isn't too fond of his little outfit.  Actually, I'm not so sure Ty's too fond of it either...

I love how his body goes head then shoulders, the kid has no neck to speak of.  Or, maybe those cheeks are masking the neck beneath.

See, everyone likes puffy sleeves.

When adults cry it out

Last night we tried the cry it out method of sleep training.  Yes, who knew you have to train most babies to sleep.  Apparently, the only gauge of your success in parenting an infant is how well they sleep at night.  It isn't that your baby is so happy during the day he has to wiggle because the happiness just bubbles over (which he does), or that he is developmentally on track (which he is) or even if he eats well (which he does ONLY if it doesn't come from a bottle).

In desperation that was riddled with sleeplessness and guilt, we attempted cry it out.  To be fair, we have (half assed) tried this method before but we only lasted 10 minutes before each of us buckled and we picked him up.  So I'm calling this our first attempt.  Ya, it worked.  He did manage to get himself to sleep, after 27 minutes of hellacious crying.  And then, while he slept, there were 20 minutes of sobbing in his sleep, that's how worked up he was.  I only sobbed for 15 minutes, that's how worked up I was. 

Here's the thing:
-  I am aware that this method works for some/most babies.
-  I know many a loving parent that use this method.
-  I know our son can't really soothe himself very well.
-  I know that teaching him to self soothe is a good thing.
-  I know if I don't teach him to self soothe, then he will rely on me to soothe him.
-  I also understand that leaving him there to cry doesn't mean I don't love him.

But here is something else I know:  I don't get to comfort him during the day.  I will NOT lay down beside his bed and listen to him scream at night.  I WILL rock him to sleep EVERY time he wakes.  I will NOT consider myself a failure because I cannot lay him down, walk away and he manages to sleep through the night.  I will do what works for MY family.  I'm carrying enough guilt about daycare, I don't need the guilt of 40 minutes of cyring a night heaped on top.  :)

There you have it.  That's the plan, for now...

Tornados, root canals and dieting - oh my!

My apologies to the 3 faithful people that read this blog, life has kind of gotten away from me lately so I'm only averaging one post a month these days.

The only thing the 3 things in the title have in common is that I've experienced all three and my dislike for all three are as strong as ever.  It must be because of those 4 hours I spent huddled in the boys bathroom in 2nd grade that has made me so terrified of tornados.  I'll cry at the sound of the tornado siren.  This dispells my theory that the things I do can't possibly screw Tyler up too bad.  I'm in trouble.  As for my hatred towards root canals and dieting, I think those are self explanatory.

Have any of you watched Downton Abbey?  If not, I highly recommend it.  There is something about posh British people that make me so happy.  Thank you to Kelli for her continued solid recommendations, as long as you don't count So you think you can dance.  Sorry Kel!  :)

I'm getting ready to head to Tyler's first easter egg hunt.  Technically, he'll be sitting on a blanket with me watching other kids hunt easter eggs, but potato potatoe.  Chris and I recently missed (we really tried!) our church's picnic and easter egg hunt.  I cried when we drove up an hour late to find everyone packing up.  I have this strange desire to make sure that Tyler experiences everything possible and that he experiences it with his parents.  I really want to create traditions and experiences that he'll look back on with love.  Of course, I realize that he's 4 1/2 months old and won't remember any of it...but that doesn't stop me from trying.

Speaking of the sweetest baby alive, he just started rolling over.  He's gone front to back and back to front recently although he seems to have mastered back to front a bit faster.  It's so funny what you'll celebrate your child doing as a parent.  Eachtime he does it we laugh and cheer.  I love that little squishy fella more than anything in the world.

Here's proof that he's GOT to be the cutest thing ever!

He's working hard at his Dad's office.  So hard he lost his shirt...
Sidenote:  Just looking at this picture makes me want to squeeze his fat little body!