Toddlerhood

My Little Man turns one is 2 weeks. Holy shit how did that happen? I am not going to lie and say that this has been the most wonderful year of my life. It has in many ways, but it has been awful in so many others. I have learned that I am a stronger person than I ever imagined, experienced the deepest love possible, known exhaustion beyond what should be humanly possible, been frustrated beyond belief and survived it all. Now that the 1 year mark is approaching, the signs of my baby entering Toddlerhood are emerging:

 

• Little man crawls after me screaming and whining to be picked up… at all times…
• After being picked up, Little Man screams to be put down, or throws himself violently backwards.
• Meal time is beyond frustrating. It is now fun to spit all food out… or throw it dramatically on the floor for the dog.
• You think feeding the dog means he likes him? Ask the dog how he feels about having toys smashed into his face repeatedly… because that is also a new thing.
• Biting and hitting are happening – for no apparent reason – and only to Mommy.
• Nothing is off limits. That wall vent shouldn’t be there under the bar top, Imma rip it out of the wall…
• If something isn’t happening the way Little Man wants it to he screams. “I can’t get this toy out, let me scream at it for 5 minutes and then when I get it out, let me chuck it across the room…and then let me realize I wanted it in the first place and scream and go after it.”
• Everything is a challenge. Stairs that look steep and unfinished, I got this. Mommy said “No” to pulling on the curtains or trying to open the trash can or entertainment stand or attempting to dump the humidifier out….let me keep trying again and again and again. She said “No” again? Throw the tantrum of the century involving fake crocodile tears and possibly baby swear words.
• Mommy wants to change my diaper? Let me backstroke across the floor and giggle manically when she pulls me back to her for the 87^th time.

 

Ah, so much fun. I thought the waking every 2 hours would be the hardest part, haha, I have so much to learn yet.

Hold me closer Tiny Tyrant....

I have been working on adapting to this new life of mine. Being a single, married, working mother is pretty fucking exhausting. Tonight while I was feeding Little Man his bed time bottle I figured it was time to put some of these scattered thoughts of mine out there.

Little Man is just about ten months old. We are talking a little over two months away from being one. How the hell does that happen so fast? I am not going to lie and say that I am not looking forward to him getting older though.

The past ten months have been exhausting. Confusing. Lonely. Wonderful. Eye opening. Amazing. Frustrating. Exhausting... Pretty much every feeling possible.

My son is a lot of things. Bossy is a pretty dominant thing though . Think of Donald Trump as a baby. 'I need you to feed me now. Oh, you still have to mix that bottle? You're fired!' 'You put that toy just out of arms reach and expect me to move and get it? Unacceptable. You're fired!' 'You think I should be sleeping through the night at 7 or 8 months? Fuck you, you're fired!!'

Napping is this kid's arch nemesis. He literally took an eleven minute nap once... so that whole nap while they nap thing has been a fucking joke. I honestly believe the zombie theory is based off of someone's view of a new parent. Someone saw a new Mom out grocery shopping, shuffling in her slippers, bags under her eyes with snot and food covering her shirt and thought 'walking dead.' Yesterday while battling him for a nap - in his crib- I found myself giggling. A little voice in my head was yelling, 'I will not negotiate with a terrorist!!' I won too!!

When we brought Little Man home from the hospital we had the Tv on during naps, ran the dishwasher, even vacuumed. We didn't hold him during naps and had him in his crib at 6 weeks old. Now during naps and after he goes to bed I walk around my house like a prisoner sneaking around a monk's library. Don't wake the beast.... it's kind of funny how terrifying my long and lean Tyrant can be.

Besides being bossy and demanding, this small dictator has a great sense of humor and is now big enough to appreciate the joy of being affectionate. I even get big, sloppy, open mouth kisses. Last night after his bottle he curled his legs up in my lap, grasped my right shoulder in his left hand and buried his forehead in my neck while I held and rocked him. Feeling those long perfect eyelashes brush my neck and the deep breaths of complete comfort and trust against my chest brought me to tears. Moments like that make up for every hour filled with nap fighting guttural screams and slaps to my face.

I know I stare down a future full of having to offer choices to make him feel in control, picking my battles carefully and letting the small things roll off my back. This stubborn Angel that has my face is going to be a very iron willed, determined young man someday and I can't want to help guide him in his ventures.

On a side note... here's to hoping any future sibling he may have are fat, lazy and dumb...we are talking stare at the walls smiling and drooling easy babies dumb!

The Return of Productive Work Habits...

Here is how I survive my days at work away from the Little Man, by being really productive.

Risky Binness:

have you ever tried heath ice cream???

Me:

no

that must have a toffee in it? carmel?

Risky Binness:

lots o caramel

like a health bar but in ice cream at the same time

i can eat the whole dang carton

Me:

I don't even know if I have ever eaten a heath bar...

Risky Binness:

OMG

now whos the weird one

Me:

lol

hey - razzles, slo pokes, nibs

you lose

Risky Binness:

heath bar is like american tradition

it's like saying you never had a burger

Me:

snickers is like an american tradition

heath bar schmeath bar

IT HAS TOFFEE - only people 65 and up enjoy toffee

Risky Binness:

w/e

you are so off!

if you tried it, guarantee you would be addicted

Me:

I no like da toffeee

Risky Binness:

you just may end up w/ a heath bar on your desk this week!

Me:

CANDY SWAP!

Me:

this fatty has a food addiction

I need to get my stuff together and get control soon

Risky Binness:

lol

better than a lot of other addictions you could have

Me:

true

I kicked those years ago

BWAHAHAHAHA

Risky Binness:

lol

Me:

the gambling

kitten stealing

it was terrible

had to take a long look in the mirror

Risky Binness:

oh my haha

now i really want the chicken sandwich from carlos o kellys

:(

Me:

meh

carlos just doesn't float my boat

or trip my trigger

Risky Binness:

please dont ever in your life say that again

Me:

knock my socks off?

lol

tickle my fancy

(notice the silence here....)

Rock N Rolla:

man, does it stink over by your work area, besides the chicken salad?

Me:

this whole building stinks like dog shit today

Rock n Rolla:

thank you, i almost thought it was me...

lol

Me: 

like linus and his blanket.. you carry it wherever you go

Rock n Rolla:

hahahaha

its a damn shame

 

End of Maternity Leave... End of Me?

When I became a Mom I lost me. I was never really able to define who I was anyway, but "Mom" is breathing, living, being. Becoming a Mom absorbs all that you were and will be and makes it mean nothing and everything all at the same time.

I sobbed when I put my perfect 9 1/2 week old to bed tonight. I sobbed yesterday when I realized that next week someone else will probably be feeding him his first morning bottle. I am a wreck. That is my new definition of self. Returning to work means I will miss out on 11 hours (give or take) a day of my son's life. Another woman will see my son roll over for the first time, crawl, walk. She will most likely hear his first official word and there will come the time that he will accidentally call her Mom (and rip my heart out).

The only comfort I find in this whole situation is that my son knows me completely. He is mine. His smile is brightest when he sees me, he talks the most to me, his eyes light up for me. When I feed him his bottles it is like looking in a mirror. That little boy is my heart and soul encased in a perfect 12 pound vessel.

Next week will be hard. So will the weeks that follow. I hope I will adjust. I will adjust... won't I?

Not actually my son's foot, but still pretty precious. His would be more breathtaking, but then I am slightly biased, but not really because that is a true statement right there.

Poop, Curse Words and Many Bad Smells....

     I am surrounded by men - and not in that good, slippery yet somehow awkward way. I have the Husband, a Baby Boy and the 100 pound giant male dog. Basically my world is full of poop, curse words and many bad smells. Take yesterday for instance, the Husband had four teeth extracted from his mouth, one drilled out, one cut out and two pulled. Yuck. To top that off the Dog then ended up with an ear infection and for those of you that have dogs you know the ungodly stench that creates. Plus, my lovely son decided to poop in three diapers in a span of about 2 minutes.... I love my life.

    Anyhoo, my initial point and inspiration to this story... our Dog has been the baby of the house for almost two years now. He is spoiled. He thinks he is human. He has had an interesting time adjusting to a Baby in the house. This Dog seems incapable of sleeping unless he is on the couch or in a bed, preferably with pillows under his head. (Hello unintentional rhyme time!) This leads to dog hair everywhere and that distinctive doggy smell all over my house.... and our clothes.... and us. I have been trying my best the past three weeks home to get him to be ok with laying on the floor, I would love for my kid to NOT be covered in course black hair until he has reached the age where he can grow it himself. I even put the pillows up at night. As soon as they are down and someone leaves the couch though he is all over it.

Needless to say, he hasn't learned what "couch back" means...and look, he has the remote too! Is nothing sacred anymore?

Motherhood thus far...

     Having Baby Boy and becoming a Mom was definitely the thing I was missing in my life, no doubt about it. Besides being wonderful, heart warming and fulfilling Motherhood is also isolating and frustrating. Nothing really prepares your for the roller coaster ride of it all and other Moms seem to not really tell you the whole truth until a woman becomes a mother herself. Sure, you hear it is exhausting and scary, but no one tells you about those secret moments when they are sobbing in a rocking chair and mourning their old self.  No one says out loud, "I had moments where I thought I would love it if you weren't here for just half a day so I can be me." Then Baby does something amazing like coo or put his precious face right on your cheek and just snuggle for a minute and those freak out moments disappear.

     Baby Boy is four weeks old tomorrow and I find myself more in love every minute. He amazes me with the things he is doing already that all of the books say he shouldn't be doing. At almost three weeks old I watched my perfect baby grasp the rings on a toy and put them in his mouth! He is developing a pattern and my Mommy instincts are so tuned into his every moment that this does seem natural.

     In all the newness and loss of self, I find myself enjoying the most mundane moments. It isn't every day you send a text to your Mom and Sisters saying, "the highlight of my day so far was catching poop in a wipe - now that is skill!" The Husband and I have had total junior high giggle fests over all sorts of bodily functions too like when Baby Boy peed during a diaper change or squished out poop like a very noisy play doh extruder while Husband was holding him. Baby Boy is definitely all man, he sleeps with his arms above his head bent at the elbows, wakes up farting like he belongs in a nursing home and eats loudly and with much enjoyment.

    Every day is a challenge and an adventure. I have learned a lot about myself and been able to watch my marriage develop to a whole new level. I joke that it only took us ten years to make this baby, but I see now that he came at the perfect time in my life. Any earlier and we would have crumbled, any later and the joy would be different somehow.

I'm Back! For those of you who haven't completely ran away and abandoned all hope that I would return....

     So I guess I have been gone from the blogging world since October. My apologies, but I was sort of busy creating and nurturing a human life. Anything I would have blogged about would have been about frequent urination, sleep deprivation, mood swings and/or a sexually frustrated husband. Seriously, as if we didn't have to be acrobatic enough with the whole foot height difference we had to add 30 pounds of belly to work around? Plus, no woman wants to get their freak on when their husband says it is like, "fucking the bottom of a basketball..." yeah, nice! Now that I just re-read this, I could have wrote some funny shit. Sorry again, sleep was priority after being away from home 12-13 hour days.

     Anyhoo - Baby Boy is here! He arrived 3 weeks ago in dramatic fashion. Week 39 of pregnancy brought on pre-eclampsia scares which landed my swollen ass (really just my feet and face were swollen) at home - no more work or social life for this girl! Just a few days over due brought some fun contractions that made us do the 40 mile drive to the hospital, then get sent home because they stalled, then we were back because of some issues with my pee that morning. Thanks pee for getting the ball rolling!

     The Dr. decided to help me along with a hormone strip thing placed way, way up my yoohoo (far enough that later 2 nurses had to work to get it out, thanks for that fun time Doc). 2 hours later I was in full on back labor, I felt nothing in the front at all and my cervix gave us all the middle finger by staying closed shut. The nurses kept checking on me and I heard, "happy baby" repeatedly even though Mommy was dying. I let the phrase "elective c section" slip and within 20 minutes the Dr. was in. My blood pressure continued to spike (I remember one top number read at 209) and since the baby was full term the Dr. agreed the c section was the way to go.

     A very short time later I was getting my first spinal ever and feeling like someone was crocheting in my stomach. I heard the Dr. say, "big baby boy" and remember looking over and just staring at this perfect little human getting measured and wiped down. His cry was perfect and I remember telling my Husband how much I loved his little voice. Husband got to leave the room with the baby while they pieced me back together. This also brought fun sensations that had me asking, "is that my belly button," and hearing, "Nope, we are about 6 inches lower than that." Ack - my Husband did feel the need to say to my Dad, "I can now say that I know your Daughter inside and out," because he did see my organs before leaving with Baby.

     Breastfeeding was not something I ever really wanted to do, but I felt the need to at least attempt it. I think every nurse had their hands on my boobs at some point. There is nothing quite like trying to sit up after being sliced open, hold an 8 pound 3 ounce baby and cup your boob - talk about difficult. The best advice I got was from the nurse that shares a name with me, she told me "hold your boob like you would a big mac - a c shape." Oh lord, if you ever hear my husband say anything about gnawing on a big mac, you know now what he means.

     Baby Boy didn't really feed well the first 24 hours and I was finally able to talk a nurse who was NOT a boob nazi into giving him a bottle. Baby took to that like a pro, proceeded to vomit the entire bottle back up and then within an hour start vomiting old blood. We were told that can be normal after a c section. The nurse then slyly asked if she could take Baby for the night to do his hearing and other newborn tests. "Sure, I will get some sleep." The next morning when I went to check on him, we were told that he continued to vomit burp rags fulls of old blood (it looked like coffee grounds I guess) during the night and this meant it couldn't be blood from the c section - it was his blood. Holy, sound the alarm bells - assume super Mommy freak out mode!!! Long story short, the solution was to put him on a special formula by a 24 hour feeding tube and Zantac. Fast forward to next day, 7 a.m. a nurse pulled his stomach contents out again and NO BLOOD!! WOO TO THE HOO:) We were finally told the bleeding they saw with our baby was the worst they had seen - the nurse from the night shift told us on her morning shift that she really expected to come in and have to call the University hospital to take our baby.

     There is our dramatic birth story in a shortened version. Baby is doing well now, gained a full pound in his first 6 days home from the hospital and is really an easy Baby *knock on wood*. Since I am already looking for stuff to do during my days when baby is sleeping, I am hoping to get my blog on again. Here goes nothing!