Baltimore Ten Miler - I'm ill prepared

The Baltimore Ten Miler is like 36 hours away. Actually less. Back when I started this blog, I worked really hard to follow training plans and prepare for races. And now...not.

Kara is coming to run with me. Our team name is "I used to be faster". We were going to make shirts or something. But we have things to do. So we didn't.

Ashley is coming for the race too. But she's super fast. Like, so fast I won't even see her. She's coming to stay over tomorrow night so we can actually talk and catch up.

I have done a few things to prepare for the race.

• Long runs. 7-9 miles. LONG. In my mind, since I did maybe half of them with the stroller, the race will feel really easy, since I'll be on my own. Don't rob me of that fantasy, please. 

• I picked up our race bibs. NAILED IT. 

Weekday runs. 2 miles at a time. Sometimes I get ambitious and do 3. I could do more...but I'm tired. And pumping. And work. And like this morning, I got my running shorts on...then Dalton was up and being all snuggly and cute and I HATE HATE HATE leaving him to go to work and I was just like...nah. 

Sometimes he wakes up in bed with me. Because cosleeping. Because I need sleep to not get fired.

• Running will always be there. These sweet little baby cuddles will not. But then Eric texted me he was picking him up because he was doing errands near daycare so I ran after work today! That was not intended to be a separate bullet but these bullets are not working with me. 

No running post is complete without a creepy selfie

• Hydrate. I'm always all over that one.

Whether it's with water...

Or other beverages...

What this post has been sponsored by.

• Dalton has been working hard to get me down to race weight. By eating all my food. I get really excited to share my favorite foods with him but then he eats it all because he's so cute I can't deny him. And then I'm still hungry. But too lazy to make myself something else. I'm so screwed when the teenage years arrive.

His daycare lady sent me this while I was at work - LOVE. 

Long story short - I'll run slow, most likely suffer, and probably regret ever signing up. I don't have the motivation to exercise because it takes time away from my little love. But I've enjoyed some stroller training runs, some non stroller training runs with friends, and I'm looking forward to seeing my blogger friends. The end.

Pumping at work - an update

I hate to tempt fate by posting this preemptively, but with just 13 school days left and a healthy freezer stash still intact, I think it's safe to say I'm going to hit one of my HUGE breastfeeding goals. The end of the school year. Dalton will be just shy of 9 months then.

It sounds anti-climatic, and I just don't think there's any way to put into words how wild this ride has been. I truly never thought I would make it here back in the winter. I LOVE breastfeeding. I HATE pumping with the passion of a thousand suns.

Warning: I've decided to fill this post with breastfeeding selfies.

JK

Really nothing could have possibly prepared me for how much this has taken over my life. Having to be half naked, if not more (depending on outfit choice), hooked to a machine, every few hours at work, come hell or high water. Constantly obsessing over how much I was pumping and if it would be enough. Pushing back and forth with daycare about whether I was sending enough (I was). Dragging the pump and cooler with me all over the place on field trips (but thank goodness for Tara lending me her pumping backpack!).

Before, I probably didn't have a frame of reference for how much liquid an ounce was. HA. And now that measurement has consumed so many of my waking thoughts for the past five months. Every day is some variation of "ok well I pumped x oz so far so I need x more at lunch and x more after school...". It's definitely a horse of a different color, and if you haven't had the luxury of dragging that pump bag into your place of employment, I'm sure this sounds dramatic and insane. Thank god I've had some wonderful friends (and amazing 5th grade teammates helping me out!) on this journey with me who get it, or I probably would have lost it by now.

We are finally now at the point where Dalton is eating massive amounts of solids, and has naturally cut down on nursing/bottles.

Last night he pretty much destroyed my black bean enchilada. Should have gotten two.

Finally figured out how to suck down those pouches!

I've gradually gone from pumping four times a day to just two! The freedom is glorious.

I can honestly say I have worked for every last drop that I've pumped. I've taken Fenugreek since we came home from the hospital. I hydrate like a madwoman. Oatmeal every day, brewer's yeast, flax, coconut water - I eat every food known to man rumored to help out. Before my wild little man was mobile, we would do babywearing/skin to skin time every single night (although much like eating lactation cookies, that wasn't exactly a huge sacrifice).

At Wegmans, not skin to skin, but you get the idea. TINY here in the fall.

And in the spring...less tiny. (Staring at a helicopter)

I've left many lunches hungry, because I had to, quite literally, milk myself, and it was a two hand job. I've spent planning periods pushing that stupid let down button over and over and cranking the pump up to top volume (that feels just as good as it sounds) and playing crying baby videos desperately trying to get something out before I need to pick up my class. My favorite is the times when things are actually chugging along smoothly and then I get a nasty email from someone and I start stressing out and BAM no more milk. Or the random comments - "Mrs. Lindsey why do you have baby bottles in your lunch bag? Your baby isn't even here!".

But I always wish he was!

On maternity leave I would just hook the thing up, watch TV, and check out the bottles 20 minutes later or so and it seemed easy. I didn't even know there was a point when milk would stop coming out until I returned to work. Such ignorant bliss.

It's a pain logistically, and it sucks emotionally too. I've already mentioned how draining it is to constantly be reaching towards that quota. Aside from that, it's just a lame reminder of how much I miss my sweet little baby and what a poor substitute it is for actually feeding him. Like any mom needs a reminder anyway. Every day, all day, I'm counting the hours until I'm back with him.

After the school year ends, I'm working a handful of days the rest of June, then summer school. Since that's mostly part time, I plan to not pump at all unless I'm there for the full day (and I don't know how I would be able to anyway since we are with children the whole time). I'm hoping it doesn't affect my supply too negatively since it's only four weeks.

When we return the following school year, Dalton will be almost 11 months, so I'm really hoping not to be pumping then either, or at least only once a day. I don't plan to quit nursing at any particular time (ideally it would happen naturally but we'll see how things go). However, once he smashes that first birthday cake he's cut off from breast milk at daycare. Unless, by some miracle, I still have a freezer stash then, in which case he can finish that up in a sippy cup or something.

And that's my story, although I'm tired so I might think of more and randomly include it in unrelated posts. If I didn't want a second baby eventually, I'd be smashing my pump with a baseball bat on September 23.

Random life updates

As a teacher with a June birthday from a cold climate, I thought I couldn't love summer any more. This summer is going to be beyond my wildest dreams though.

When he was an itty bitty newborn, I wanted to freeze time and keep him teeny tiny forever. But I had no idea how much fun things were going to get. 

He has turned in to a standing, crawling, on the move maniac.



I remember when we first got this changing pad (I don't do affiliate links or anything that's just an awesome idea for new parents) and I was like "what are these straps for?". Ha.

Diaper changes now resemble WWE events.

Friday I was ridiculously excited for three whole days with my little man. Of course, then I blinked and I was saying goodbye Tuesday morning, but we had some fun in between.

After Dalton's bedtime, a wild Friday night ensued.

Being an adult is exhausting

On Sunday we went over to our (new!) friends' house for a barbecue. Their son is only a week younger than Dalton. 

As a blogger, I'm naturally socially awkward so making new friends is kind of a big deal for me. I do generally make them on the internet, and this was no exception. My record of internet friends being 100% awesome continues. So much fun, so much cute baby.

This is pretty much my favorite picture of all time so far.

Have you ever tried to take a picture of two or more babies? It general involves trickery, and a minimum of two adults acting like total idiots trying to get smiles while a third takes the picture, and then Eric was on security detail.

We are very, very slowly working on that whole "not living out of boxes" thing. Our walls were looking a little bare, so we drove around on Saturday looking for estate sale signs. We found one, and bought $25 worth of artwork, dusted it off, and problem solved.

Dark picture of our hallway. I just got up from the couch to take it. You're welcome.

Just waiting on my call from HGTV. Full house tour coming. Ha. Yeah right. I would never. But I will give you one if you come over and drink wine with me.

My big upcoming race, the Baltimore Ten Miler, is only 9 days away. Yikes. I pretty much took all of last week off because I finally gave in to my doctor and started a new asthma medication and it resulted in like 6 asthma attacks a day. As soon as I stopped that med, it went away. That was fun.

I did manage to get in long runs the past two weeks. 8.6 miles and then 9.1 miles. The 8 miler was on Baltimore's hilliest route with a really fast friend. Genius planning on my part. I would hate her for her natural talent but she's really nice and fun so I can't. So annoying. I was forced to ask personal questions to trick her into telling a long story to hide the fact that I was dying and couldn't breathe. The next week I was smart enough to at least suggest a flat route. We ended up with a 9:27 pace and that's pretty much my 5k pace these days, so I was pleasantly surprised. I ran before work each day this week and thank god on Saturday my friend has to bring the double stroller and I can only pray that slows her down.

Dalton has supported my training as well. Monday, a (different) friend, Dalton and I went to a (different) hilly path (why I'm actually driving to exercise on all these hills when I finally live in a relatively flat neighborhood is beyond me) for a walk.

It is scenic, though.

 I figured Dalton would pass out in the stroller, like he tends to do. He didn't fall asleep until we'd completed the three mile loop, leaving me no choice but to go around again. This time I ran, and added some distance by getting lost.

I just took this one to text her and be like WHERE AM I. 

I LOVE that Dalton can eat meals with us now. It's so much more fun. He eats like a grown man. The other day he finished his breakfast and then was screaming for mine. I think I'm done making "baby food", because we've just been making him a little portion of whatever we are eating and he's in heaven, other than the fact that we annoy him by pausing his meal to take bites of our own. He even tried (and loved) peanut butter this weekend!

Naturally I couldn't wait to introduce him to the world of desserts. He had a little baby mini homemade strawberry shortcake, because if it has fruit, it's healthy. (There is only 2tbsp of sugar in the whole recipe so I didn't feel like quite so much of a parent fail.)

Mmmmm....sugar.....

He nearly dove to the ground trying to get the spoon in his mouth faster.

Delish.

I'll just leave you with this picture to melt your heart.

Am I the worst mom ever or do other people let kids try dessert (or have their own) at young ages? 

I'm not the kind of mom I thought I'd be

From my very limited pregnant understanding, there are different parenting categories, like attachment parenting, babywise parenting, more that I don't know, that you can decide to identify with once the baby pops out. I don't actually know anyone who has done this. Every parent of an infant (including me) that I know goes with one type of parenting. It doesn't have a fancy name, but in a nutshell, it's do the best you can to get through the day with a healthy child, question every decision you make - "is this going to ruin my child?" (spoiler alert, the answer is always yes), and for the love of god, try your best for everyone to get some f#$%ing sleep. So far, that parenting style has got us through nearly 8 months with no disasters, knock on wood.

I tried to keep my expectations of how I would handle motherhood low, since who really knows what life is like with an infant? But even so, I've strayed pretty far from the mom I thought I would be. Particularly in the following ways.

1. Sleep

We want this.

They want that. "Can't stop won't stop"

I love sleep. I figured I'd suffer through the first few months, then as soon as the experts said it was allowed, sleep train. I'm a teacher, so my job is literally to make kids cry (KIDDING). Obviously I could handle a few tears in the name of 8 glorious uninterrupted hours. Our pediatrician is all for sleep training right away, and pregnant me thought this was something we agreed on. Then I heard my own child cry and it all went out the window.

Here we are 8 months later, rocking to sleep, cuddling up, nursing to sleep (although lately that's not effective) and not minding the occasional co-sleeping.

Lazy Saturday morning.

I'm still all for it in theory. And tell myself I'll do it when we really need to. But I can guarantee it wouldn't work right now. If there's one thing all the baby sleep websites agree on, it's consistency. I know I would crack. So I regularly panic that he'll never get a good night of sleep in his life unless we move in with him as an adult and co-sleep, all because I was too weak when he was a baby.

Thursday I read some blog and it actually said, all in caps, that if you don't put your baby in the crib awake YOU WILL NEVER SLEEP THROUGH THE NIGHT. I'm not even joking, it said NEVER just like that. So naturally I panicked, because at that very moment Eric was snuggling Dalton to sleep, because he just loves sleeping on his daddy.



Then I realized - I'm a blogger too. Bloggers don't actually know anything. Some of us openly admit that, and some of us pretend to be experts for pageviews. Clearly she's in the latter camp, because we all already have slept through the night, on occasion.

2. Baby food

This just in - our kid likes buffalo wings and pizza.

I am definitely as busy as the average person with one child. I feel I could really hold my own in the classic "who's busier?!" pissing contest. I'm two episodes behind in Game of Thrones and that's actually an improvement over last week (but can I still talk about it with someone because I am DYING).

Just chew on this raw asparagus and stop bothering me. Winter is coming.

I got a food processor as a gift in August (from my friend with an awesome blog) and I was like, cool, maybe I'll make some baby food. I didn't plan to go crazy about it, because ain't nobody got time for that. It's actually really easy though, and I love to cook, and it turns out I love to cook for my kid even more. Soon he'll be a toddler and probably only eating chicken nuggets, so I might as well enjoy it while I can and attempt to make all his food and make it delicious.

It's definitely cheaper that way. I bought ingredients (beets, apples, carrots) for about the price of 3 of those teeny single serving jars and made about 15 baby servings the other day. We also do a lot of "here kid, have what we're eating", like penne with shrimp, feta, mint, and spring veggies (one of my favorite recipes make it immediately). I like that he eats all sorts of things that aren't usually considered "baby food", like chicken curry, for example.

I'm not on some sort of crusade against store bought food or anything. I bought puffs and teething wafers. I'm just lazy. It's a lot easier to buy and prepare one meal rather than one adult and a separate kid meal. I'm fine with the jarred stuff if I don't get a chance to make anything. Unlike formula, which I pretend to be fine with and I am in theory but deep in my heart I know I will cry the first time I give it to him, this I'm actually ok with.

2a. Organics

I've been buying all organic produce for Dalton, which I don't really understand because I was definitely under the impression it was a grocery store conspiracy before. BUT WHAT IF?! It actually doesn't make any sense because I don't eat organic, and still supply his actual nutritional needs. We also let him try pizza, buffalo wings, and a bagel with cream cheese this weekend, but I'm sure those organic beets canceled all that out. So far, we have not found even one food he has disliked.

3. Cloth diapers

I love our mother earth. I recycle. I bring actual silver wear to eat lunch at work instead of throwaway stuff. I tried to stop using paper towels except the reusable kind were inferior. But I wasn't about to become some hippie washing poop before heading off to my drum circle just to help limit waste in the landfills.

Then I had a baby and realized that once you are a parent, you are going to be dealing with poop, regardless of your diaper choice. We Facetimed with my BFF Kari and she gave us a tutorial, complete with a nursery tour and even modeled a diaper change. Modern day cloth diapers are pretty much just as easy as disposables, and soooo much cheaper.

Most importantly, they are significantly cuter.

Turtle power.

I mean...zebra butt.

Naturally, it was off the table until we owned our own washer and dryer, and now that we are actually living that dream, we made the switch. We haven't started sending them to daycare yet, but once we run out of size 3 disposables there, we will.

Long story short: I'm pretty different than I expected to be, and I'm still at the super easy stage. The part where I have to figure out how to mold him into a good person and productive member of society - TERRIFYING. Give me poop and 2am wakeups please.

Porch dinner date!

What part of adulting have you handled totally differently than you expected to?

Firsts and whining

Amazing Mother's Day weekend. My gift was a new car!

IT'S ORANGE

Dalton drove us home.

Ha, get real, that would never actually happen in my world. But after weeks of researching and carpooling, we did finally get a second car. New to us, but actually older than the one totaled. It's really more like Eric's, because he's big, and my Honda Civic is small. Which is a bummer, because I was due for a "new" car next. Also, the above picture was in my car. The interior of the new car is orange and so pretty. I promise we (ok, Eric) did real research and didn't just go on color. It's a Nissan Murano and the Today show JUST featured it as performing the best in SUV crash tests! Yay safety!

Short of actually seeing my mom, we did have the best Mother's Day weekend because my first little love came to visit - my nephew!

Showing Dalton Mr. Bear. If you know Harrison, you know this is a BIG DEAL.

Dalton had a lot of exciting firsts. First zoo trip.

There was supposed to be a giraffe in this picture.

First taste of crab. It's important to put down those Maryland roots.

Like literally every other food he's tried, he liked it.

First taste of frozen yogurt. #cleanliving

Again, liked it.

Lastly, his first playground visit! I wanted to push him on the swings, but they didn't have any. He had a horrible time.







Now he's experiencing a less exciting first. First ear infection. Does it count as first and second if it's in both ears?

He fell asleep on the way home last night. That hasn't happened since winter.

His thighs barely fit in the car seat.

When he finally woke up and came inside, he barely nursed then fell asleep again in the ergo. I ended up rocking him like that until Eric came home.

Open mouth - that's when you know they are out.

He never even ate dinner or had a bath, we just put him to bed, he was so exhausted.

In the morning, Eric got him up while I went for a run. He said Dalton was totally out of it, and even when he put him in the exersaucer (his favorite thing ever) he just laid his head down. I was getting really nervous because he had 101.9 fever, and was so lethargic. Every other time he's been sick, he's still been his normal energetic, happy self. He barely nursed again and had a dry diaper for three straight hours, unheard of.

And here's where I'm going to complain. It sucks having a sick baby, and it really sucks to have to worry about making tough choices on top of that. First of all, who's calling in to work? I could either call in, and feel guilty about missing work yet AGAIN, or go in, and feel guilty about not being there to comfort my sick baby. I went with option A. Employee of the year. I raced to work as soon as we could get in the building to get what I needed to make sub plans. Dalton passed out again while I was gone, which is seriously just not like him at all.

It is like his father, however.

Then Eric had to leave for work so I was trying to comfort Dalton while also trying to type up sub plans and text people to ask them to take time away from their busy jobs to do favors for me since I couldn't come in. I had Dalton behind me on the couch, and he passed out yet again.

I just wanted to be able to focus my energy on being a good mom, not ignore a miserable child who wants his mommy to deal with work, but the sub plans needed to be done right then. But then I also want to be a good teacher, and although there's no question about what's more important, I still wish I could be in two places at one time and no matter what happens there's guilt. I'm grateful because I know I'm luckier than most working moms. I still have some sick time left after using most of it for maternity leave, since I was forced to take half of it unpaid. My coworkers are amazing and always jump in happily to help, but still, no one wants to be the one who's always a burden. We just need to get some grandparents to move down.

That was extremely whiny. To cheer up, watch John Oliver discuss how America screws over working mothers in a much funnier way.

I did achieve a major life accomplishment.

Nailed it.

What's your biggest source of guilt right now? I laid it on thick to the grandparents above, in hopes I'll get what I want.