This is the real deal

Excellent news. So far in the new year, I committed to being a complete slug. I didn't exercise, clean, cook, grocery shop, or do anything besides basic baby care. I am happy to report that the rest healed me and I am no longer sick, just in time to go to work, and I don't mean that sarcastically because being sick at work sucks.

Saturday, being finally healthy and no longer having to cancel all plans, we attended a baby party at Carolyn and John's house. I often just refer to people as "friends" on the blog because ain't nobody got time to remember friend's names of blogs they read, but I feel we spend enough time with them that anyone reading needs to know who they are. Plus they have an adorable baby.



The party was at 12:30pm, and Eric was all like "parties in the afternoon?? Is this our life now?". Yes, yes it is.

We had fun but all the other babies were more like 7-8 months old, which is a huge difference from 3 months in baby time, so Dalton was a little overwhelmed. He shut it down.

This does not look like a comfortable way to sleep to me.

Now I know I've written all sorts of dramatic things about going back to work, and yes technically I did already go back, but tomorrow is the real, true test. See, I only went back for two days. One of those days Dalton stayed home with Eric, so while I missed him, I didn't have any concerns about him. The next day my boss declared take your kid to work day, so he came with me!

It was the best.

He slept on me in the Ergo for like 2.5 hours and basically was a superstar all day so my vote is that I can bring him every day for the next few months. But I can't so he's going to daycare and I'm having the same feelings of panic and desolation about it that every mother ever has. The only cure is just to do it and hope that by this time next week I feel better.

He's in a major "I want mommy" phase (?) and cries every time someone else holds him, even his dad, so I'm consumed with guilt and a broken heart over him crying for me while I'm not there. Good stuff. Eric is dropping him off because if that was my job I just wouldn't do it and then get fired. Today I'm trying to resist the urge to be "that mom" and call daycare and make her listen to a long list of detailed instructions about my baby.

The nice part was it led to lots of good cuddles this week. I think Eric and I are in a secret competition over who gets to hold him because we are both going to miss him so much.

 

A friend gave me the advice that for the first two weeks not to worry about anything but work and baby care. That's my plan. I'm prepared to live in filth and eat takeout.

I've learned that when you have a baby, the first thing everyone wants to know is "Is he sleeping through the night?". I'm considering hanging a sign around his neck that just says "I DO NOT SLEEP THROUGH THE NIGHT YET". Maybe going the extra step and adding a footnote that says "no I do not want to hear about how your baby slept through the night at 7 weeks due to your superior parenting". I know plenty of babies sleep through the night by 3 months, but my understanding is that it's also pretty typical for them not to do so yet. They are all different, almost like they are real people. I never had any expectations of full nights of sleep when I returned to work.

I'm working on just getting mentally prepared for the transition to daycare involving no sleep at all, and that way any I get is a bonus. High hopes, low expectations is key. In my child free life, I relied on a combination of sleep and coffee to be awake. Currently I'm planning to rely exclusively on coffee. I just made a huge batch of iced coffee to keep in my fridge at work. Any Steaders reading this, feel free to come get some!

In my one day of experience, pumping at work did not go well. I'm not married to the idea, but I was really hoping it would work out and I could send breast milk to daycare. I'm working on trying to look at it as another transition and see it goes over the course of a week and not freaking out over one bad day. Actually, that's pretty much the theme for the whole week. My mom got me one of those fancy pump bags that holds all the parts for Christmas, so that's pretty exciting!

Now I just need this little monkey to wake up from his nap so I can continue our snuggle fest!

 

 

 

Who's going back to work and dreading it tomorrow?

The holidays - 2014 edition

Are you all ready for my fascinating Christmas recap?



I did revolutionary things like opened gifts, baking cookies, and spending time with family! Can you even believe it?

You did WHAT?

I could go on and on about how this was the best Christmas ever and get really sappy, but I'll save that for my personal memoirs and just let these pictures speak for themselves.

 

It was an awesome Christmas, but, truth be told, I failed so bad at Christmas this year. Let's just say Eric opened a lot of gifts that he purchased and wrapped himself, and this was how he ate Christmas dinner.

 

 

In my defense, that was mainly due to a turkey fryer malfunction. And, I'm using my only opportunity to play the new mom card, so no one can judge me. This is where I would insert a really cute picture of the three of us dressed all Christmasy by the tree if I hadn't immediately lost the camera after taking it.

 

Instead, enjoy this picture of my nephew riding a box of glass bowls.

 

I read (well, really skimmed and rolled my eyes at) a lot of blogs with guides for how to avoid packing on those holiday pounds, all with the exact same nonsense like "don't go to a party hungry!". Who am I, Scarlett O'Hara, trying to catch a husband? What I want to do at a busy time of year is spend time making and eating food right before I go somewhere where someone is providing food. Another good one is “limit/avoid alcohol because it makes you make bad choices”. Well, no one can argue with that, but one of the great perks of a September baby is that you are never pregnant for the holidays and I, for one, intended (and succeeded) on capitalizing on that.

I followed a foolproof plan to avoid those pesky pounds, as did my entire family. Get stomach flu!

 

A shocking twist!

 

Here’s how it works. You eat and drink to your heart’s content, then when Christmas is over, become sick as a dog, and undo all that damage with nausea, puking, fever and chills, lack of appetite, and general exhaustion. I think it worked like a charm. I have no solid proof in terms of numbers, because who weighs themselves after Christmas? The ending of the holiday season is sad enough without that to bring spirits down. Even if I had, I wouldn’t have a follow up weight because I had to reserve all my energy for diaper changes.

I’m not complaining though, because Dalton didn’t seem to even notice and I’m beyond relieved he didn’t get sick (KNOCK ON WOOD). Now, it’s moved up and it’s more of a sinus/common cold issue, which is a significant improvement. We didn’t exactly have wild party plans for New Year’s Eve, like back in the day.

 

 

 

I was looking forward to some baby friendly time at our friends’ house though. But, that was off, as I continued a lifelong tradition of being sick for New Year’s Eve.

 

"Best bronchitis victim, 2011"

 

 

We ate frozen pizza and laid on the couch, which is not exactly an awful way to spend an evening.

I really didn’t want to let my duties as a mom prevent me from the big midnight countdown, but the germs won this round, and I was asleep by 11. In my defense, I couldn’t even drink my glass of wine, so I was clearly still quite ill.

His face shows how I felt.

I nailed my 2014 resolutions. Floss daily, and have a baby.

Even better than dental hygiene.

 

Done. I really like resolutions that are specific and measureable, none of this “I’ll try to be a better friend” or whatever. For 2015, Eric and I have a joint resolution to stop swearing in front of Dalton. Because we keep saying we will do it and time is flying and who knows when these babies start picking up words. I feel like I should come up with one other solid resolution but nothing feels right just yet.

 

What are everyone's 2015 resolutions? What else should I add?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Christmas baking and running outside

Tomorrow's the day I've been dreading - leaving my baby to go back to work. This week I've eaten a lot of meals with him in my lap, not because he didn't want to be put down, but because I didn't want to put him down. Just trying to soak in every precious moment.

I'm feeling pretty ok about tomorrow since it's only a 2 day week. I think January will be where it really gets tough. But, I don't have too much to say about all this that isn't of the boo hoo woe - is - me variety, and nobody wants that. Especially when it's almost Christmas!

 

 

Eric and I have had crap dollar store/sharpie stockings hanging up here, since we always travel to spend Christmas with family and we have our real stockings there. Since we are having our first real Christmas as just a little family of three, we finally upgraded.

 

I spent Friday and Saturday morning in my happy place. Christmas baking.

 

I thought I took more pictures. Imagine lots of gingerbread.

I pre-emptively burned off all the calories by baking with a giant weight strapped to me.

The timing worked out because we had an epic weekend of good times with amazing friends to look forward to which really got my mind off how lame it is to work for a living.

 

Back in 2005 these crazy chicks graduated from college in upstate NY and moved to a row home in downtown Baltimore to try out the wild ride of teaching. We had no idea what we were in for.

It was tough to find a pic. No iPhones back then, you had to like go out and do stuff and not even Instagram it!

 

The next year our little trio became a foursome.

Actually from 2008 - we at least had a digital camera by then.

We obviously still look just as youthful today.



Although there have been some small changes.

It's hard to get babies to pose.

We had a wild sleepover with 6 adults, 2 babies, and a dog. Back in the day this group would party and not move until at least 10am the next day. This time the latest riser "slept in" until 7:30am and we were all up and at em.

This is all probably going to go to hell once I rejoin the world of actual responsibilities, but I've been doing pretty good on working out (in my humble opinion). I'm on a strict training plan of attempting to do something that's not sitting on my ass like 4-5 times per week. So far it's rotated between running on the treadmill, or workout DVDs, mainly T25 or Jillian Michaels. Unless Eric is home I try to run until the baby wakes up. Trying to get back in shape is apparently not a linear process. That one day I ran a full 5 miles, then other days I struggle to get to one without a walk break. But I've made it through the entire first season of Game of Thrones, so that's a full ten hours on the treadmill since whenever I posted I started watching. Distance: unknown. Speed: slow.

I actually ran with people! I haven't done that since spring. And outside! Hills and wind resistance! I forgot how much fun it is. We ran 4.5 miles today.

#motherrunners and Mike

Then we did planks and leg lifts on the baby mats. With a dog.

For some reason packing my lunch was a real downer today. I really hate packing lunches. I'll be leaving the mascara off, my tissues and pump parts are packed, so wish me luck tomorrow! 

 

What should I make for Christmas dinner? We are frying a turkey but I don't know what to have with it.

She works hard for the money

I swear we were just bringing this tiny, 6 ½ pound little bundle home from the hospital.

 

Today Dalton is 12 weeks old, and this marks the last week of my 12 week maternity leave.

 

12 weeks makes a big difference in size!

 

 

Hey, Obama - the free breast pump was great and all, and much appreciated, but how about some decent maternity leave so I don’t have to leave my baby when he’s still practically a fetus and then I wouldn’t need to rely on a pump? Although I recognize I’m more fortunate than many women. I was allowed to use 6 weeks of my accumulated sick time to get paid, and then I even got two extra weeks on top of that because I was lucky enough to need a c-section. The rest was unpaid, even though I have more than enough sick time to cover it.

 

I’m not thrilled about going back to work. However, I no longer dread it and would rather have another root canal, which is a huge improvement for me. I was able to type that without crying. I’m able to see some positives. I went in last week to visit, and it was really fun. I work with a lot of great people and I’m looking forward to seeing them every day again. I never really thought I would say this, but I’m even looking forward to using my brain again. And, of course, I’m home right now but Dalton is sleeping, so it’s not like I would get to spend every single second of my time with him even if I could be a SAHM. For the record, I really, really would give anything to do that, but that doesn’t pay the bills.

I’m glad I have a job I enjoy, and I truly do miss my students and am excited to see them again, it’s just the whole leaving my baby thing that isn’t working for me. It’s weird because when I was pregnant, I was sure I wasn’t qualified to care for an infant. I couldn’t even believe they let me leave the hospital with him. But now I feel like, aside from his father, no one else can possibly care for him. I know this is illogical. We have a wonderful daycare provider that we love. She’s been doing daycare for 25 years (mostly staying with kids from infancy to kindergarten) and has two grown, successful children of her own. In a contest, her experience clearly trumps mine by quite a bit and I know he will be fine. But I still don’t want to turn him over. I’m his mother, and no one is going to love him like I do.



He's old enough to wear a baby belt!



Thinking about how much I am going to miss him breaks my heart. I keep trying to remind myself it’s not like he’s going away to boarding school, I’ll see him every day and we still have many fun times together ahead. Millions of women and babies have done this and survived. It still sucks. I want to be with my baby. I’ve warned everyone I will be spending the first few days back crying at least 70% of the time.

 

Aside from the emotional component, logistically work is going to be a real pain in the ass. It’s one thing to wake up 4-5 times a night with a baby when you don’t have anywhere to be in the morning. I can get three hours of broken sleep and still change a diaper like a pro. I’m not sure I can say the same about staying on top of the education for 50 ten year olds or attending meetings to speak about data and curriculum and attempt to sound intelligent. And dealing with the pumping, bottles, sending stuff to daycare – just mathematically it sounds so complicated. But I know it will work out, and one way or another this kid will get fed. I’ll most likely be exhausted, but that’s why God invented coffee.

 

The timing is nice, I get to ease in with just two days of work and then a nice long Christmas break that the three of us get to spend together. Tomorrow, Dalton and I are going in to attend my team’s planning meeting to get ready. I’m looking forward to it! See, if I could just take him with me, I’d be perfectly fine.

 

We’re soaking in every glorious moment of this last week together full time. Yesterday we met Carolyn and Nathan for a stroller walk in a park, since it was 50 degrees and sunny a week before Christmas.

 

 

We have some other fun plans with friends and I’m just getting all the snuggle time on the couch that I can.

Love that little face so much.

 

Any advice for a soon - to - be working mom?

 

 

How I knew I was "ready" for a baby

 

I occasionally write things not meant to be posted on the internet. Shocking, I know. I was looking back through some of my musings and found what I’d written one year ago today, December 15, 2013. It was a profanity filled, angry document on my frustration of another cycle ending without a pregnancy. Just one month later, on January 15^th, I finally got that coveted positive test, but of course I had no way of knowing how close we were to finally conceiving, or if we ever would. Crossing that month off the calendar seemed especially noteworthy because it marked a full year of trying, and yet I’d be having that glass of wine as a consolation prize yet again.

 

This was the prize I really wanted.

 

 

Before I got there myself, I was also fascinated to hear from people how they decided they were ready to have a baby. I know, I know, no one is ever really ready, but most couples at some point decide “ok, let’s do this”. I decided to share how I got to that point, and I felt today was a fitting time for that topic.

 

I’ve gotten some pretty shocked reactions from people upon finding out that Eric and I were married for 6 years before the birth of our first child. I always find that surprising for two reasons. First, I thought it was a given that people knew that fertility and pregnancy could potentially be very painful topics for a woman, so you never comment on the timing of having children. Second, it never seemed weird to me! I know the rhyme goes “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes _____ with the baby carriage”. Some people can’t get that baby carriage fast enough after saying “I do”, some people switch the order around entirely, and then other people, like me, couldn’t even imagine trading in the wedding dress for spitup rags and diapers. 



How was he ever SO TINY?



 

While I was completely out of my mind baby crazy in December 2013, I was feeling much more hesitant in December 2012. A year before that the thought of being pregnant was positively sickening. Eric and I both always knew we wanted to have children. But when we got married, we were still living downtown, going out all the time, and generally still living the wild early 20s life.

Actually from just a year and a half ago but it illustrates the point.

 

A year in to our marriage, we moved out to the suburbs. I was still in no way ready to start a family. I was way too selfish. I don’t mean that as a self-deprecating remark about a character flaw, I mean it as a lifestyle choice. This was the time I got really into running and racing. Obviously, you can do those things as a mom, which tons of people prove every day. But it takes devotion, planning, and sacrifice. I didn’t feel like doing any of those things. I wanted to be able to do my 20 mile training run when I felt like it, after a good night’s sleep, and without negotiating childcare with my husband.

 

Way back when I could run far.

 

 

We also had a lifestyle that we really liked. We could hop in the car to visit friends out of state at a moment’s notice. We could go out downtown, have a wild night, and crash on a friend’s floor. We could save up some extra money and take a trip together.

 

We could declare a Saturday a movie day and not get off the couch until Sunday. Although I didn’t get it quite the way I do now, I knew kids required a lot of time, effort, and money, and I was comfortable with where we were currently diverting these resources. In short, I liked doing what I wanted, when I wanted.

 

That’s a lot about why we had so many years when we weren’t ready. As I hit my late 20s, I started to think about it more seriously. Not really because I felt differently, more because the clock was ticking, and people sure love to remind you of that. Friends I’d gone to high school and college with were starting their families. I knew the days of setting the idea aside as “eh, someday, when we’re ready” were done. But still, every time I started to truly consider it, I would still feel like I had to accomplish one more goal before it could happen. A 50 miler. A marathon PR. A triathlon. There was always some reason to put it off.

I didn't appreciate the joy of dressing our baby in funny costumes for our own amusement.

 

All these athletic goals were my reasons for waiting, and they were also what let me know it was go time. Before, it had always seemed there was time for children….someday, but I needed to do this race NOW. All of the sudden I decided there was time to complete an ironman or a 100 miler someday, but I needed a baby – NOW. All the things that before seemed like obstacles (being in grad school, lack of space, etc) now just seemed like things we would need to work around. Sleeping on someone’s floor just to have a night out at the bars sounded less appealing than dental work. Staying in and enjoying some family time sounded so much better, especially with a snuggly cute little family member.

 

Now our Saturday nights include bath and book time.

 

I still loved my sleep and never really relished the thought of giving it up – but you gotta take the good with the bad. Supposedly I’ll sleep again someday. That’s what they tell me.

The moment sleep ended for me.

 

I knew I’d potentially be giving up a lot – racing (at least temporarily, and I can’t really imagine going back to it right now), traveling, date nights, lazy days. Except it suddenly didn’t feel like I was giving these things up, instead like I would be trading them for a much better prize. Before, I noticed diapers and exhaustion when hanging out with mom friends, now I noticed how the sight of mom lit up baby’s eyes. Before, I had never been a baby person at all, if anything, the thought of holding a baby was slightly frightening. All of the sudden, I couldn’t get enough.

 

This started seeming appealing.

The Cliff’s notes of this is that first I was scared of babies and wanted to be lazy anytime I wanted, then the switch flipped and I wanted my own baby, like, yesterday, screw grown up fun. If I’d waited until I was ready to give up sleep I would never have a kid.

 

Worth all the sleepless nights times infinity.

 

 

The masked man

 

It's been a week.



Feel free to come over and fold that clean laundry piled on the couch and don't speak to me while you do so.

 

This makes it look way more dramatic than it was. Eric just got really sick and couldn't go near Dalton. He stayed quarantined in our bedroom, basically shivering and hacking and sleeping like the dead. I had a ton of respect for single moms before, then even more as a mom, and now even more. I don't think I could do it. And I wasn't even actually alone! When Eric was awake, he could at least yell out suggestions like a coach from the sidelines if I was having a tough time.

No one can say he wasn't committed.

Truthfully, even before that, I was having a bit of a hormone attack again. Friday was one of those days and Eric had to work late. When they say it takes a village to raise a child, I'm pretty sure that village's job is keeping the mother sane, at least for the first few months. I had two of my wonderful friends drop everything just to come over and sit around to cheer me up, and it was a major lifesaver. Texts, emails, phone calls and even Facebook comments from my mom, sister, and other friends play a huge part too. Even if I don't believe it in the moment, just hearing someone say that I am a good mom or that it will be ok makes a big difference.

I have a pretty awesome role model. This arrived from my own mom to brighten my day.

Well, the flowers, I provided the baby.

My problem, currently, is just the crushing weight of responsibility. Dalton was up every hour the other night. Yeah, I wanted sleep, but I felt calm and it didn't excessively upset me, he's a baby. I just feel like he's the best, and he deserves the best, and it's scary trying to commit to a lifetime of being the best. I know no parent can be perfect, but it's hard to resist the temptation to want that for your child, and to feel like you're coming up woefully short because it's just all so new.

 



We call this driving his imaginary motorcycle.



That escalated quickly. Let's talk about fun stuff. Christmas is in two weeks. Holy crap. I know everyone is saying this all the time, but seriously November passed in the blink of an eye. I have a big to do list of random gifts to order and stuff and let's just say I'm not nailing it. I finally ordered our stockings today so they will barely make it in time for Christmas. I am doing an excellent job listening to Christmas music a minimum of 13 hours a day and eating cookies.

 

And dressing Dalton in seasonally appropriate outfits

 

 My BFF Carolyn and I kept it rolling and went to another Christmas themed event last weekend.

 

As you can tell from this picture, we clearly did this solely for the benefit of the children.

It was pouring rain, so Eric zipped Dalton into his jacket and got to try out the wonderful world of pregnancy.

In between diaper changes and feedings, we listened to some live Christmas music and most importantly, tried fried cheesecake.



Prepare yourself for cuteness overload.



Baby BFFs.

One other exciting thing last weekend, besides a delicious Sunday breakfast of Costco samples, was a postpartum running PDR (personal distance record). 5 miles. Once upon a time, I would look at a 5 mile run on a training plan and be all like "sweet, an easy day, I can sleep in!". Now I looked at it more like I used to view a 20 mile run. But I made it, and while slow, I took no walk breaks and fit it in during just one Game of Thrones episode. I know some #motherrunners bounce back much faster, but at 10 weeks postpartum, that was a huge accomplishment for me. Haven't done it since then, but I have high hopes. I remember when I used to like running outside. I really underestimated how much I like watching TV while exercising.


Where are you on the holiday preparedness scale? 10 is "I do all my shopping in August" and by the way I hate you,  1 is "thank freaking god for Amazon prime".