Unplanned Parenthood

All Hallows Eve

I wish that there was some kind of wire that connected to my brain and could go directly to my website because I would have posted so many more times than, well, never recently.  I have so many things I want to say.  I even bought this little journal that I can keep in my purse and write things down and then type them into this-here site.  So far I think it has my flu shot appointment on the 28th and that I really want to make pumpkin bread this weekend.

Jack's second Halloween.  I can't even put into words how much life has changed in the last year.  I look back and think really that must be a different person.  Jack, yes, different.  Me, unexpectedly COMPLETELY different.

Let's take a little look-see:

Last year:

And this year:

Since I'm on my second glass of wine after a particularly trying evening, I will refrain from the OH MY GOD WHAT HAPPENED TO MY BABY thing.  But, inside, that's how I feel.

I can't express how happy I am that he's at the daycare he's at.  His teachers love him so much and he loves them.  He asks to get down to give them hugs in the morning, goes and sits in the chair to eat breakfast and waves bye-bye to me.  When I come to get him in the evening he is excited to see me, but equally excited to give his teacher a high-five on the way out.

This feeling.  This feeling is truly bittersweet.  I am so proud of him, so happy that he's happy.  I'm so terrified that I can't live up to his expectations.  But when we're driving home in the evening and we come to a stoplight I turn around and look at him.  He grins, dimples showing on both cheeks, and says, "Hiiiyeee" and giggles.  I say hi back, we both giggle and I know that we're going to be just fine.

The power of Iron. Or oxygenated red blood cells. Or something.

Hi!  Remember me?  I know, I almost forgot, too.  For the past month or so I have felt increasingly like absolute hell.  Exhausted all the time to the point of becoming lethargic, almost passed out every time I stood up or moved too fast, every little thing seemed like an insurmountable task.  It was gradual, so I guess I didn't realize how bad I was feeling.  I started to think that maybe I was going into some kind of depression again, but I didn't really feel emotionally bad (besides feeling tired and foggy), it was truly physical.

My stepmom, in her infinite wisdom, said, "maybe you're anemic."  I thought nooooo.  I mean, I was when I was pregnant, but surely not anymore?  But then...I don't eat much meat anymore, I've been eating spinach salads, but probably not enough and (two days go by...) hmmmm, wait.  I felt like this when I was pregnant and anemic.  And the light went on and I tried not to punch myself in the face for being so dense and went and got iron supplements, B12 and folic acid.

Surprise!  5pm yesterday the fog lifted and I suddenly felt a trillion times better.  A million trillion.  Even today when I woke up with the beginnings of another cold thanks to the petri-dish I call "daycare," I feel better than I have in weeks.

Thank you, Shawnna, for not letting me spiral into a retarded, foggy death.  Or something.  Thanks for making me feel better.

It's not you, it's me

Dear friends & family,

I'm sorry if I've been out of touch, if I haven't responded to emails or calls.  I'm just feeling kind of lame right now.  Don't get me wrong, I'm happy about where I am and what I'm doing, it all just feels a little relentless right now.  Not bad, just never ending, and quite frankly, I can't imagine that I'm a very interesting person to talk to, so I have just been kind of laying low.

I know how lame that sounds.  I'm sorry.  Please, be patient with me.

Love,

Me

Groundhog Day

5:30 a.m. Alarm goes off (not even a real alarm, just my cell phone, a practice I am sure to regret one of these days when I learn how to silence it before really waking up.  Not that I ever sleep.)

5:45 a.m. Roll out of bed, stumble into the kitchen, hit the On button on the coffee maker and creep towards the bathroom and into the shower.

6:05 a.m. Emerge from the shower mildly awake and grab a half cup of coffee, which I will sip while staring, uninspired, at my closet.

6:15 a.m.  Give up, put something on that is a) mostly not wrinkled, b) clean(ish) and c) kind of matches

6:20 a.m.  Dry hair, lament wispys I can't get tamed

6:25 a.m. Apply make-up till I achieve a healthy balance between "don't look like the waking dead" and "don't look like a 2-bit whore."

6:35 a.m. Wake up Jack.  The very essence of what every cell in my body is telling me NOT TO DO.  Everyone knows that you don't wake a sleeping baby.  I get him dressed while he has his morning bottle and is still too dazed to put up much of a fight.

6:45 a.m.  Grab my bag, Jack's bag, travel mug with coffee and head to the car

7:20 a.m.  Arrive daycare and enjoy bittersweet moment when my child asks to get down to go play and doesn't notice when I leave.

7:30 a.m.  Ferry departs for SF

7:55 a.m.  Arrive SF

8:00 a.m.  Arrive at work

Work, work, work...

5:20 p.m.  Leave work and go to ferry

5:35 p.m.  Ferry departs

6:00p.m.  Ferry arrives, pick up Jack at daycare, drive home

6:50 p.m.  Arrive home, change into pajamas (SHUT UP)

7:00 p.m.  Feed Jack, pick scraps off his plate, unload my bag, rinse bottle and sippy cup and put into dishwasher, get coffee maker ready for the next morning.  Talk to Jack, sing songs and encourage "good eating."

7:20 p.m.  Shrill shrieks emitted from the highchair indicating that his highness would like down 30 SECONDS AGO, LIKE OH MY GOD.  Subject myself to wails as I have the gall to wipe his hands and face.

7:25 p.m.  Bath time.  For Jack, not me, since Jack hates it when I'm naked, a phenomenon which is not a boost to my self-esteem.  And this is the start to my favorite time of day.  Jack plays in the bath, I sit next to the bath tub, talk to him, throw the rubber ball back and forth.  We both begin to unwind.

7:45 p.m.  Out of the bath, wrapped in a towel.  We head to his room where I lather him up with baby lotion and let him run around naked for awhile.  We play cars, read books, put Legos together, and he stops intermittently and comes over to give me a hug or lay his head in my lap.

8:05 p.m.  Warm up a bottle, get Jack into diaper and pj's.

8:10p.m.  We lay next to each other on the futon in his room, quietly rest.

8:15 p.m.  Jack goes to bed.

8:20 p.m.  I make the final decision whether I will slip in the yoga DVD or make myself a real dinner.  It's really a 50/50 shot.

9:15 p.m.  Go to bed.  Don't actually sleep very much/very well, but enjoy being horizontal regardless.

5:30 a.m.  Alarm goes off...

We really could have been anywhere, we were just happy to be together.

Two of my best girlfriends came and spent the weekend with me this weekend and we had a lovely, wonderful time.  There are just no substitutions for childhood friends, people who know you better than you know yourself, who love you just the way you are.

We really spent the whole weekend talking and it was just like the old days.  Even though we haven't spent time together in a long time, we just kind of picked up where we left off.  We spent most of Saturday in our pajamas, on the couch, talking, drinking tea and taking turns running defense against a toddler who, quite frankly, was in total disbelief that we chose to talk to each other instead of spend 100% of our time gawking at the baby.  I KNOW.  We are mean and selfish and it was totally worth it to have such a great weekend.

Now, don't get me wrong, it's not like Jack was an ignored, neglected child in ANY REMOTE SENSE OF THE WORD.  We spent some good quality time at the park, swinging, sliding, and running.  We went and ate burgers (us) and grilled cheese (him), tickled, kissed and hugged the newest addition to our little crew.

There's a chance that we'll all live a little closer to one another soon, and for that I have all my fingers and toes crossed.

Whine Central (if only we could remove that h, it would be a lot more fun around here.)

I know, I know, every kid whines, especially toddlers who get frustrated because they don't have the physical skills to do certain things and they mostly feel out of control and I KNOW.  I READ THAT BOOK.  I GET IT.

The current level whining is killing me.  By the end of the evening, the sound of his fake, whiny half-cry makes my face melt off.  He was putting the rings on the stacking pole thingy (you know, this thing.) and in preparation for not getting it on the stick on the first try, he would start whining and getting frustrated AS HE PICKED UP THE RING.

It's been a couple days of this now and I'm trying to tell myself that it won't last forever, that he's probably getting ready to go through a developmental leap of some kind.  Last night was not a good night, I lost my patience several times, but tonight, I held it together, turned the other cheek and there was a definite decrease in the amount of whining.  But holy shit was it hard to keep my patience.  I know that it's best to ignore it, that when he gets a reaction it only encourages the behavior.  I know, but it doesn't always make it easier to swallow, take a deep breath, and say something calm and positive to him.  Sometimes I just want to light my hair on fire to see if that, maybe, provides a distraction from the apparently woeful state of his life.

Another thing I've started struggling with is...how do I put this without sounding like an asshole?  Well, when Jack and I are together (evenings and weekends), he usually has my undivided attention.  He plays fairly independently as long as I am in the vicinity and I'm not going too far off the reservation in terms of Watching Jack Do Things.  I've noticed during the few times recently that we've had someone else around and I was interacting with that person that he got really, really upset.  Like, stand in front of me, try to push me away from the other person, upset.  Is that normal for his age?  Am I coddling him too much by making him the center of my world when we're together?  Is it even possible to do that at this age?

Selfishly, I want to focus on him when we're together because I don't spend much time with him during the week.  But he really doesn't like it when other people take my attention away from him for more than about 3 seconds and that's, well, it's bound to be creepy if he's still acting the same way at 30 years old.  That's all I'm saying.

I'm trying not to worry too much about it.  Despite the nails-on-a-chalkboard whining, he's at such a fun age.  Everything is new, he's so curious, and, as always, he's a very cheerful little boy.  He loves people, new things, new places and being outdoors.  He's learning so much and changing so fast.  But he still loves to lay his head on my shoulder and give me slimy, open-mouthed kisses and it's the best feeling in the whole world.