While walking home from town this afternoon (thanks to the SEPTA strike), Michael turned around in the stroller which is his usual way of requesting more food. I asked him if he wanted more to eat and her made the sign for more! I asked him if he wanted more again and he made it again!
Yay! We have comprehension!
We took Michael to the Zoo today, and the highlight of his trip was standing on this little platform over a pond and laughing at the ducks.
It was so cool watching him walking back and forth on the platform and seeing John hunker-down next to him to point out the different ones.
I have two of the world's greatest men in my life.
I was talking to my mom tonight about my sleep deprivation and how I have to refocus everything on getting more sleep. She went on to tell me how much she wished I could afford to by a DVR, how much of a life-saver it's been for her, how hard it is to function the next day if she stays up late to watch TV, and how much she wished she could afford to buy me one. I replied that I don't stay up to watch TV, that I stay up to clean, do laundry, cook, knit, or just to have a few moments to myself in a quiet house.
I don't know if she has some sort of amnesia about how damned hard this is or if she's a part of the, "Well I survived it, so she can too," club. No offer of a baked ziti, or even just meatballs. I get the line about how I can't go to two grocery stores in the same weekend but no offer to come and help me go grocery shopping. It's like the breastfeeding thing all over again. She'll sit from afar and criticize and offer pointless advice, but never drive the 10 minutes to help her first-born keep her head above water.
Despite my therapist almost ordering me to do so, we will not be asking them for financial help in getting Michael into a daycare program once a week so I don't burn out.
Hell, she didn't have any help like that and her kids turned out fine.
(Sorry, I'm a bit bitter -- yes, she really did suggest DVR as a solution. God, how I wish that were an exaggeration.)
and Michael is awake and bouncing. John's in with him now. I don't know how much more of this I can take.
On Monday, I was telling my mom how badly Michael was sleeping and the strain the sleep deprivation was putting on me. This is made even worse by my depression starting to creep back. I am spending so much energy trying to beat that monster into submission that I don't have much left for anything else. Well, rather than the gentle, "Maybe you should let him cry," that my mother has given in the past to this sort of venting, she suggested that maybe he wasn't eating enough to sustain him through the night. The ever present sadist in me started jumping up and down, screaming, "You're starving your baby!" The angry teenager suspected my mother of trying to sound like she knew more about my child than I did, which is surprising considering she only sees him once a month (no issues there). We then went on to discuss his diet during the latter part of the day and what kind of sustaining foods I could add to it. He's fairly picky and I don't jump through hoops to find things that he wants to eat, not wanting to end up like one of those, "My toddler only eats chicken nuggets and hot dogs," kind of moms. The result is he mostly grazes. I offer fruits, veggies, and some whole grain breads and crackers for snacks, and I offer him food off of my plate at dinner which he may or may not eat (he's very anti protein right now).
Well I got off of the phone with her, and then the despair and anger set in. How on earth was I supposed to manage to make these sustaining foods? For the past few months (great timing on my part), I've been very gung-ho about changing our eating habits and starting a whole foods/all natural diet. Since money is so tight right now, this means the elimination of convenience foods from our diet. So I make almost everything from scratch. I am having serious trouble keeping up with this load as it is - now my mom is suggesting (for the good of my son) that I start making egg custards and risotto on a regular basis to I can tank him up on food.
I took her advice that night and set to work. He was whining and bouncing at the gate while I made some sushi rice (he definitely wasn't in the mood to wait for brown). I shredded some chicken and started a roux for the sauce to a steady stream of whining punctuated with a shriek every once in a while. I finished the sauce, thought about doing a vegetable and decided that my nerves couldn't handle it, dumped it on the rice and we both ate.
He slept through the night.
Please God, let this have been just a coincidence.
I'm a member of an Attachment Parenting message board and sometimes I read something that really rubs me the wrong way. First off, let me say that I do subscribe to the Attachment Parenting Philosophy and feel that it's what works best for me and my family. I do not like Dr. Sears and something about Martha just annoys me, but I digress.
No matter how much some AP advocates might say otherwise, mommy one-upmanship is strong and thriving. That's my beef with the Sears, they pepper their books with all of those warm and fuzzy anecdotes that can lead a neurotic first time mom to believe she is doing something terribly wrong because she does not have that perfect bond with her child. Parenthood and especially motherhood is really hard and it really sucks sometimes. I really feel that AP would gather more devotees if they admitted this, but again I digress in my rant.
Breastfeeding.
To many, any reason that you give for not breastfeeding is an excuse. They may not say, "You didn't try hard enough," but the use of the word "excuse" rather than "reason" certainly implies it. I went through my own personal hell to try and breastfeed Michael and reached that dark place where I had to make the choice between continuing or saving my sanity. Until you have reached that place, you have no right to judge. It was such a terrible decision that no matter how angry I get at others' lack of empathy, I would never even wish it on them. That is not to say that there aren't women out there who really do mean it when they say they didn't want to breastfeed because it would make their boobs sag or they would be too tied down. But there are a lot of women who will give what looks like a lame reason to some because the decision tore their heart apart. It's easier to give a superficial reason rather than relive the pain of the choice you had to make.
You breastfed through your nipples falling off? Well bully for you! Just don't think that I didn't try hard enough or didn't want it badly enough to continue. My son has a mom who was not hospitalized during his infancy and believe it or not, I feel that is more important than breastmilk.
There is nothing quite like the sound of a toddler bouncing on a plastic-wrapped mattress, whining at 5:30 in the morning. Especially when you spent the night before avoiding things and didn't actually fall asleep until almost 3. John got up with him, but it was 5:30 and he had to go to work this morning. After doing the whole, "No, you go back to bed," dance, it became moot anyway - with Michael in the throes of separation anxiety, once I'm up I'm not allowed to leave. So John got to go back to bed for an hour or so and I got to deal with a tired, grumpy baby.
John just left for work and I tried to go into the kitchen to get something, which Michael was not happy about - this time he bounced at the gate and whined/shreiked until I came back.
I think I'm going to pack us up and make the trek into town. It's a lot earlier than I planned, but this way I'm less likely to snap at Michael which is the best thing for both of us.
With the unerring ability of babies everywhere, he found the two pairs of what I thought were safely-hidden scissors. Now he's bending and talking to our DBZ mousepad and bewailing his lot in life because I won't let him bang on the keyboard and eat the mouse. It's really funny watching him move from thing to thing in the computer-room and talking and touching random objects.
Despite how peeved I am right now due to lack of sleep and my own lot in life, these moments are all too fleeting in the grand scheme of things. Oops, he's found John's comics - have to rescue them.
TTFN!
Once more I am in avoidance mode and have found a wonderful new way to persue it -- blogging.
Off to bed...
120 items so far
