Mailbox - replaced
Microwave - present and installed
Exercise - performed regularly
Various appointments - scheduled and on the calendar
Bills - paid
Light Fixtures - arrived, call placed to electrician to have them installed
Eating - above reproach until yesterday :-( getting back on the horse now
House cleanliness - hmmm...will have to work on this
Life - slowly getting back under control
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Too little too late
I have never been a punctual person. I tend to always be 5-10 minutes late, or "fashionably late", as those of us who can't drag our sorry butts anywhere on time call it. Neither am I one of those people who are perpetually 30 min-1 hour late though, and despite my own lateness, those people annoy the crap out of me. I know a couple people like this, and I think it's just rude. Any lateness is rude, but I at least try to get places on time. To be half an hour to an hour late ALL THE TIME, you just have to not care.
My problem, however, has been exacerbated by having a baby. If I'm leaving her behind, I have to get all of her food and diapers etc. set up for whoever will be watching her. If I am taking her with me I have to collect an incredible number of food items, toys, pieces of clothing, diapering necessities, bottles etc. into the diaper bag before I go anywhere, not to mention getting Emily changed and into clean clothes, bundled up, buckled into her carseat and out to the car. My own personal appearance usually falls by the wayside. I have been experimenting recently, giving myself ample time to get ready and trying to see how long it actually takes so that I can know in the future "I have 40 minutes until I have to leave, it's time to start getting ready now". I have discovered that there is no such thing as ample time when you're getting a baby ready. This morning it took me well over an hour just to collect up the necessary items and get Emily out of the house. Last Friday, I started getting ready to leave at 10AM for a lunchdate at noon. I arrived my customary 5 minutes late.
Later that day, I dropped Emily off at my mom's house, picked Will up at work, and we drove to Baltimore to have dinner at Lebanese Taverna. We were approaching downtown at 5:24PM, but because of traffic we got to the restaurant exactly at 6PM, precisely on time for our reservation. We went in, sat down at a table for 7, and proceeded to wait for the rest of our party. Luckily we had cell phones, and we quickly realized that our friends would not be there for awhile. We ordered and ate and had a wonderful belated Valentines day date at a big empty table for 7. Afterward, we continued on to the 1st Mariner Arena to meet our friends (who had arrived in Baltimore at 7:20PM and ended up eating at McDonalds) to see the Blue Man Group.
I saw that as quite a victory on my part. I had to start getting ready at 10AM in order to get Emily taken care of and get to my 6PM dinner reservation on time, and our friends who have no kids missed dinner because they were an hour and a half late!
We all made it to the show though, and although I had been looking forward to it, I can't say I really enjoyed it. The Blue Men were amusing, and many of the things they did were amazing to listen to and look at, but for the most part the show consisted of a large band playing original songs with terrible lyrics. It was loud and annoying honestly, and I didn't understand why I was getting so irritated. We left before the encore so that we could escape the parking deck before the rest of the crowd, and in the car Will reminded me of something I had forgotten. I hate concerts. I can handle them if it's a band I know and love and can sing along with, but for the most part I hate the noise, the crowd, the dirty crowded bathrooms and the cheap beer spilling everywhere. I had gone into this show thinking I was going to see something more like a play...I didn't know it was in an arena until a day or two before. I had expected something in a theater, a sketch show maybe with some music and an intermission.
Oh well. Even if I didn't enjoy it, I was on time and that's something to be happy about!
-Sara
My problem, however, has been exacerbated by having a baby. If I'm leaving her behind, I have to get all of her food and diapers etc. set up for whoever will be watching her. If I am taking her with me I have to collect an incredible number of food items, toys, pieces of clothing, diapering necessities, bottles etc. into the diaper bag before I go anywhere, not to mention getting Emily changed and into clean clothes, bundled up, buckled into her carseat and out to the car. My own personal appearance usually falls by the wayside. I have been experimenting recently, giving myself ample time to get ready and trying to see how long it actually takes so that I can know in the future "I have 40 minutes until I have to leave, it's time to start getting ready now". I have discovered that there is no such thing as ample time when you're getting a baby ready. This morning it took me well over an hour just to collect up the necessary items and get Emily out of the house. Last Friday, I started getting ready to leave at 10AM for a lunchdate at noon. I arrived my customary 5 minutes late.
Later that day, I dropped Emily off at my mom's house, picked Will up at work, and we drove to Baltimore to have dinner at Lebanese Taverna. We were approaching downtown at 5:24PM, but because of traffic we got to the restaurant exactly at 6PM, precisely on time for our reservation. We went in, sat down at a table for 7, and proceeded to wait for the rest of our party. Luckily we had cell phones, and we quickly realized that our friends would not be there for awhile. We ordered and ate and had a wonderful belated Valentines day date at a big empty table for 7. Afterward, we continued on to the 1st Mariner Arena to meet our friends (who had arrived in Baltimore at 7:20PM and ended up eating at McDonalds) to see the Blue Man Group.
I saw that as quite a victory on my part. I had to start getting ready at 10AM in order to get Emily taken care of and get to my 6PM dinner reservation on time, and our friends who have no kids missed dinner because they were an hour and a half late!
We all made it to the show though, and although I had been looking forward to it, I can't say I really enjoyed it. The Blue Men were amusing, and many of the things they did were amazing to listen to and look at, but for the most part the show consisted of a large band playing original songs with terrible lyrics. It was loud and annoying honestly, and I didn't understand why I was getting so irritated. We left before the encore so that we could escape the parking deck before the rest of the crowd, and in the car Will reminded me of something I had forgotten. I hate concerts. I can handle them if it's a band I know and love and can sing along with, but for the most part I hate the noise, the crowd, the dirty crowded bathrooms and the cheap beer spilling everywhere. I had gone into this show thinking I was going to see something more like a play...I didn't know it was in an arena until a day or two before. I had expected something in a theater, a sketch show maybe with some music and an intermission.
Oh well. Even if I didn't enjoy it, I was on time and that's something to be happy about!
-Sara
Monday, February 11, 2008
Trip to Rochester
There are two things I can count on happening every time my mother-in-law comes over to babysit Emily. #1, she will suggest that I duct tape a comforter to the hearth, and #2 she will call her parents up in Rochester, put them on speaker phone and let them talk to Emily. I have been around for one or two of these phone calls, and it breaks my heart. They sing to her, they ask her questions, and they are beside themselves with joy when she makes a noise back that they can hear. They had never met her, because Grandpa Deyle had a stroke earlier this year and has been too fragile to make the trip down from Rochester. With a baby, we did not even want to consider driving 6+ hours up to Rochester, and every time we tried to coordinate a flight up there it never seemed to work out. Either Grandpa was still dealing with his ORSA, or we were not available etc. Will and I were getting desperate to introduce Emily to her great grandparents, because they are definitely not in the shape they once were, and we couldn't imagine the guilt we'd feel (on top of the sadness) if one or both of them were to die without meeting Emily.
So this weekend, my Mother-in-law chartered a plane, and we flew up to Rochester to surprise them. We rolled up to the airport at 7AM, just as it had started snowing.
Our plane:
Emily all buckled in and ready:
Will and his mom:
I felt fairly awful on the flight, which was an embarrassment to me because I usually pride myself on being a hale and hearty air traveler. My nausea cleared up about halfway through though, leading me to believe I was feeling sick not because of the flight but because we had risen at 5AM, crammed down breakfast and scurried around like crazy getting Emily ready. For the second half of the flight I was able to enjoy having enough air to breathe on an airplane for once, and being able to watch the altimeter in the cockpit as we descended.
After a wonderfully smooth and quick flight, we were in Rochester and despite some (inevitable) snafus with the directions, we were at the grandparents' house before we knew it.
Waiting to make our entrance:
When we walked in, Grandma looked at us, said hello very pleasantly, then went back to stirring her soup. "Someone must've spilled the beans", I thought. That wasn't the reaction we had all been expecting. A couple seconds later, she looked back up at the crowd of people in her kitchen doorway, paused a couple seconds, and then screamed "OH!" loud enough to make Emily burst into tears :-) Now that was more like it!
What I find the most amusing about that situation, is that it was obvious once we'd seen Grandma's eventual reaction that she didn't realize who we were upon first glance. To her, she had just seen a slew of strangers walk into her kitchen, and yet she still greeted us with a polite and welcoming "Hello" and went back to her business. I hope no burglars ever walk into her kitchen, she'd probably fix them tea before she realized what was going on.
We had a very enjoyable visit. It made for a long day, but Will and I agreed it was just the right amount of time. We really enjoyed seeing how happy the grandparents were just watching Emily walk around the coffee table and play with toys Will used to play with (and maybe even Nancy when she was young).
At ten after six, we piled into the rental car and headed for the Rochester airport. At twenty after eight, we pulled into our garage at home. Fantastic.
So now Emily will know who it is that's singing Mary Had a Little Lamb to her over the phone, and Will and I can feel relieved that her great grandparents have finally met her :-)
-Sara
So this weekend, my Mother-in-law chartered a plane, and we flew up to Rochester to surprise them. We rolled up to the airport at 7AM, just as it had started snowing.
Our plane:
Emily all buckled in and ready:
Will and his mom:
I felt fairly awful on the flight, which was an embarrassment to me because I usually pride myself on being a hale and hearty air traveler. My nausea cleared up about halfway through though, leading me to believe I was feeling sick not because of the flight but because we had risen at 5AM, crammed down breakfast and scurried around like crazy getting Emily ready. For the second half of the flight I was able to enjoy having enough air to breathe on an airplane for once, and being able to watch the altimeter in the cockpit as we descended.
After a wonderfully smooth and quick flight, we were in Rochester and despite some (inevitable) snafus with the directions, we were at the grandparents' house before we knew it.
Waiting to make our entrance:
When we walked in, Grandma looked at us, said hello very pleasantly, then went back to stirring her soup. "Someone must've spilled the beans", I thought. That wasn't the reaction we had all been expecting. A couple seconds later, she looked back up at the crowd of people in her kitchen doorway, paused a couple seconds, and then screamed "OH!" loud enough to make Emily burst into tears :-) Now that was more like it!
What I find the most amusing about that situation, is that it was obvious once we'd seen Grandma's eventual reaction that she didn't realize who we were upon first glance. To her, she had just seen a slew of strangers walk into her kitchen, and yet she still greeted us with a polite and welcoming "Hello" and went back to her business. I hope no burglars ever walk into her kitchen, she'd probably fix them tea before she realized what was going on.
We had a very enjoyable visit. It made for a long day, but Will and I agreed it was just the right amount of time. We really enjoyed seeing how happy the grandparents were just watching Emily walk around the coffee table and play with toys Will used to play with (and maybe even Nancy when she was young).
At ten after six, we piled into the rental car and headed for the Rochester airport. At twenty after eight, we pulled into our garage at home. Fantastic.
So now Emily will know who it is that's singing Mary Had a Little Lamb to her over the phone, and Will and I can feel relieved that her great grandparents have finally met her :-)
-Sara
Friday, February 8, 2008
Painfully Healthy
I have been making Emily's babyfood for awhile now, but recently I have been slacking. I made a bunch of food this summer, when everything was ripe and cheap and it was easy to find locally-grown food. But as we ran out of our frozen "food cubes" from summer's bounty, I have found myself turning more and more to jarred babyfood instead of making more up myself.
So yesterday, I sat down with my copy of Super Baby Food (the making your own babyfood bible) and studied up. I have been introducing all sorts of foods to Emily 4 days at a time (to make sure there's no allergic reaction) and I try to vary the type of food I give her each day, but I hadn't given much thought to the overall nutritional balance. As it turns out, this is what I should be giving her for breakfast:
"Super Porridge" (made from organic grains ground at home in a blender and cooked into porridge)
A sprinkle of powdered kelp and a dash of nutritional brewer's yeast
1 mashed egg yolk every other day, and 1 vitamin A food cube on the other days (like carrots, sweet potatoes, etc.)
2 green food cubes (broccoli, kale, spinach etc.)
1 Vitamin C food cube, or 2-4 oz of freshly juiced fruit, diluted 1:1 with water
Vitamin drops with iron
Wow. My daughter was clearly missing out.
So yesterday I went to the Common Market and bought powdered kelp and some fruit for juicing. I had already introduced Emily to everything else, so I was good to go this morning.
I defrosted her food cubes. I juiced an apple. I sprinkled kelp and brewer's yeast. I placed all her various food containers within arms reach (mine but not hers) and settled down to feed her breakfast.
Lo and behold, she ate it! And she liked it! I was delighted that my daughter was taking so well to such nutritious food. If I just keep feeding her this way when she's little and doesn't know any better, she'll still eat healthy food when she gets older! I told myself that even so, I wouldn't be one of those mothers who forced their children to take unidentifiable health foods to school in their lunchboxes. I would still be a "cool" mom. Not lunchables cool, but I would be clever and sneak healthfoods into normal-looking sandwiches and such. But hey, at this rate maybe Emily would ASK if she could have some kelp to take for lunch (and she would remember to say please, because this was my fantasy).
I topped it all off with a dropperful of her Poly-Vi-Sol vitamins (which she also takes willingly...am I a lucky mom or what?), which she must've swallowed a bit wrong because she started to cough.
And cough.
And cough.
And then she vomited up every last nutrient in a spectacular greenish fountain.
I guess she'll just have to be dangerously low on Vitamin A until we try again at breakfast tomorrow. And I'll give her the vitamins first next time :-(
-Sara
So yesterday, I sat down with my copy of Super Baby Food (the making your own babyfood bible) and studied up. I have been introducing all sorts of foods to Emily 4 days at a time (to make sure there's no allergic reaction) and I try to vary the type of food I give her each day, but I hadn't given much thought to the overall nutritional balance. As it turns out, this is what I should be giving her for breakfast:
"Super Porridge" (made from organic grains ground at home in a blender and cooked into porridge)
A sprinkle of powdered kelp and a dash of nutritional brewer's yeast
1 mashed egg yolk every other day, and 1 vitamin A food cube on the other days (like carrots, sweet potatoes, etc.)
2 green food cubes (broccoli, kale, spinach etc.)
1 Vitamin C food cube, or 2-4 oz of freshly juiced fruit, diluted 1:1 with water
Vitamin drops with iron
Wow. My daughter was clearly missing out.
So yesterday I went to the Common Market and bought powdered kelp and some fruit for juicing. I had already introduced Emily to everything else, so I was good to go this morning.
I defrosted her food cubes. I juiced an apple. I sprinkled kelp and brewer's yeast. I placed all her various food containers within arms reach (mine but not hers) and settled down to feed her breakfast.
Lo and behold, she ate it! And she liked it! I was delighted that my daughter was taking so well to such nutritious food. If I just keep feeding her this way when she's little and doesn't know any better, she'll still eat healthy food when she gets older! I told myself that even so, I wouldn't be one of those mothers who forced their children to take unidentifiable health foods to school in their lunchboxes. I would still be a "cool" mom. Not lunchables cool, but I would be clever and sneak healthfoods into normal-looking sandwiches and such. But hey, at this rate maybe Emily would ASK if she could have some kelp to take for lunch (and she would remember to say please, because this was my fantasy).
I topped it all off with a dropperful of her Poly-Vi-Sol vitamins (which she also takes willingly...am I a lucky mom or what?), which she must've swallowed a bit wrong because she started to cough.
And cough.
And cough.
And then she vomited up every last nutrient in a spectacular greenish fountain.
I guess she'll just have to be dangerously low on Vitamin A until we try again at breakfast tomorrow. And I'll give her the vitamins first next time :-(
-Sara
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Milkmaid no more
This post is going to be about breastfeeding, and it is not going to be very funny, so if you want something more humorous and lighthearted, I suggest you go over and look at some Lolcats for awhile.
So I have decided I am finished lactating, at least for the time being. Those of you who know me personally will probably be saying "Weren't you whining about this, like, a MONTH ago? Give it up already!". Yes, I was whining about this a month ago, but shut up, this is my blog and I can whine as much as I want.
Back when I was pregnant, I knew I wanted to nurse my baby. I envisioned nursing her for 1 year, then I figured I'd tell everyone Emily wasn't nursing anymore but secretly still nurse her right before bed or upon waking in the morning just for the closeness. I imagined nursing confidently in public places (with a nursing wrap on of course), having a freezer overflowing with frozen breastmilk so that I could go out for errands or to the gym whenever I pleased, and I would have so much milk that I could even donate to a milk bank if I decided I wanted to. I would do all of this without flashing my chest groceries to a single person. Oh, and I'd be back into my pre-pregnancy jeans after 2 months, maybe 3.
Needless to say, it hasn't quite turned out this way. Emily has been a very difficult baby to nurse. She wasn't born with a cleft palate or any other defects that would make it hard for her to physically nurse. I did not have any issues that would prevent me from nursing. I had the desire to nurse and the commitment to stick it out during those first few difficult weeks and make it work. It's just that Emily has a terrible attitude towards nursing.
At the very beginning, the doctors wanted to make sure she got lots of food so she wouldn't get more jaundice then she already was, so they made us supplement her diet with formula. I hated it, and I was terrified she'd get nipple confusion and not want to nurse anymore. But once my milk came in and her bilirubin count went down, it seemed all systems were go. I was stashing away a bottle of milk here and there. I was terrified every time the power went out that my frozen milk would defrost and spoil. My modesty, however, had gone out the window when the nurses walked into my room 2 days after Emily was born and said "Let me see your nipples". Ok.
On top of that, Emily flat-out refused to nurse with anything covering her. I'd try to nurse her in public, and the limbs would flail, the nursing cover would go flying, and everyone would see my bits. The same thing happened if I tried to cover her while guests were at my house. My Father-in-law saw me half-naked way more times than I ever would've hoped (that number of times being zero). I was heard to say things like "Only 48 more weeks of nursing!" and "I can't wait until she's eating solid food...it will save so much time and I will not miss being stapled to the couch for 45 minutes out of every 2 hours one bit".
Fast-forward to month 3, and Emily had started up an endearing new behavior. About every third time I'd try to nurse her, she'd throw an almighty fit and flat-out refuse to calm down until I gave her a bottle. It wasn't reflux, it wasn't because she was too hungry, or not hungry enough, or too distracted, or to cold, or the room was too bright, or any number of a hundred things we tried to "fix", it was just that she didn't feel like nursing. Ok, no sweat, I had some bottles of frozen breastmilk, when she threw a fit I'd defrost some, feed it to her, then pump and my milk supply wouldn't suffer.
But it did suffer. I tried taking Fenugreek all day, hooking myself up to the pump for extra sessions, drinking extra water, I even considered getting drugs from Canada to help my milk supply. But all that happened was that I felt exhausted and irritable all the time and slowly my stash of frozen breastmilk dwindled.
In October, we all flew to Chicago and I was freaking about what to do milk-wise. What if Emily freaked on the plane and wouldn't nurse? I brought some breastmilk, but what about on the way back? I spent weeks worrying about what to do, and finally decided we could give her a bit of formula while she was there if she needed it. We introduced formula a couple days ahead of time to make sure she'd take it, and let me tell you! The feeling of freedom I got from dumping the rest of an unfinished bottle down the drain instead of desperately trying to force it down Emily's throat because it had been painfully rendered from my body and dammit, Emily WAS going to get those antibodies and nutrients! We only ended up having to give her 2 bottles of formula while in Chicago. But it was fairly impossible to pump as much as I needed to there, and once again, my milk supply suffered.
When we got back, Emily's appetite just flat out exceeded my best efforts at milk production. She was eating some solid food by then, and I hoped that would fill her requirements that I couldn't. It didn't, and a bottle of formula per day became the norm. She continued to have her fits occasionally, except now she scratched and pinched and had teeth. No matter what expert's advice I tried, she'd laugh at me and just bite me more. It was like trying to nurse a woodchipper.
A missed pumping session here, an especially hungry day for Emily there, and by December she was getting 2-3 bottles of formula a day.
Then January came. And Emily decided not to nurse anymore. Ever. Every single time I tried, I got the same reaction she had started at 3 months. I was fairly inconsolable for a day or two. If she woke up at exactly the right time and was still sleepy enough, I could still get her to nurse first thing in the morning though, and I set to pumping. Some mothers pump exclusively the whole time. Maybe I could even get my supply UP now that I had to pump so much anyway. But being home with a crawling baby who doesn't like to nap during the day does not lend itself to endless hours spent attached to a breast pump. I only usually managed to get in 2 pumping sessions a day, one in the morning and one right before bed. At night everyone would go to sleep and I would sit bleary-eyed in the office and pump for half an hour, then creep as quietly as possible into bed so as not to wake Will. The amount of milk I got was less each time, but I was terrified to skip a pumping session, lest my milk supply go down even more.
And last night, as Will got into bed and I settled Emily into her crib, Will asked me if I was coming to bed. I said "No, I have to pump". Will said "Awww...we never get to fall asleep together anymore. I miss it". I realized how much I missed it too, but my mama instinct kicked in. My baby needs my milk more than my husband and I need to fall asleep at the same time. I went to pump for half an hour anyway. I got about 1/2 Tbsp of milk...all I had made in a 24-hour period.
So I have decided this 9 months of torture is over. And despite how hard it has been...how much I've had to struggle at every step, I am extremely sad about it.
The thought of putting away the pump until our next baby comes along should be a huge relief, but it brings tears to my eyes. Defrosting and feeding Emily the last 2 bottles of milk I have in the freezer that I have been ferociously guarding for who knows what eventual use is next on my agenda, then putting away my nursing bras and tanks that I have lived in for the past 9 months. The thought of ridding the house of the last vestiges of a lactating mother and her nursling make me weepy.
I hated nursing! It was a constant fight and an omnipresent stress. Since Emily has scaled back her nursing sessions I have experienced a wonderful surge of energy...energy I forgot I ever had. And I should count myself lucky we made it this long. Some women would like to nurse but can't nurse for one reason or another. Some women stop on purpose after 3 months or 6 months. And some women have no desire to nurse at all. Only 11% of moms still nurse their babies at 6 months.
But I feel guilty for not trying harder. I feel sad that Emily and I won't have those nice nursing moments anymore, even though they were few and far between. Nursing has been a constant, since the first minutes of her life. She has started crawling now, and walking while holding onto the couch and feeding herself cheerios, but nursing is the first major thing she has STOPPED doing.
Those of you who know me also know I usually plan things, and then they happen, simple as that. I am incredibly lucky that that is the case, believe me I realize that. But I guess I haven't been prepared for disappointment so I feel cheated that something so important hasn't gone as I had planned.
So I am going to go pump now, then boil my pump parts one last time, pack it all up, and put it away until I'm getting ready to go to the hospital to have my next baby. I'll feed Emily the rest of the milk from the freezer. Then, because I believe in looking at the bright side of things, I think I'll go on a three-day bender, because it has been a year and a half since I've gotten good and drunk!
-Sara
So I have decided I am finished lactating, at least for the time being. Those of you who know me personally will probably be saying "Weren't you whining about this, like, a MONTH ago? Give it up already!". Yes, I was whining about this a month ago, but shut up, this is my blog and I can whine as much as I want.
Back when I was pregnant, I knew I wanted to nurse my baby. I envisioned nursing her for 1 year, then I figured I'd tell everyone Emily wasn't nursing anymore but secretly still nurse her right before bed or upon waking in the morning just for the closeness. I imagined nursing confidently in public places (with a nursing wrap on of course), having a freezer overflowing with frozen breastmilk so that I could go out for errands or to the gym whenever I pleased, and I would have so much milk that I could even donate to a milk bank if I decided I wanted to. I would do all of this without flashing my chest groceries to a single person. Oh, and I'd be back into my pre-pregnancy jeans after 2 months, maybe 3.
Needless to say, it hasn't quite turned out this way. Emily has been a very difficult baby to nurse. She wasn't born with a cleft palate or any other defects that would make it hard for her to physically nurse. I did not have any issues that would prevent me from nursing. I had the desire to nurse and the commitment to stick it out during those first few difficult weeks and make it work. It's just that Emily has a terrible attitude towards nursing.
At the very beginning, the doctors wanted to make sure she got lots of food so she wouldn't get more jaundice then she already was, so they made us supplement her diet with formula. I hated it, and I was terrified she'd get nipple confusion and not want to nurse anymore. But once my milk came in and her bilirubin count went down, it seemed all systems were go. I was stashing away a bottle of milk here and there. I was terrified every time the power went out that my frozen milk would defrost and spoil. My modesty, however, had gone out the window when the nurses walked into my room 2 days after Emily was born and said "Let me see your nipples". Ok.
On top of that, Emily flat-out refused to nurse with anything covering her. I'd try to nurse her in public, and the limbs would flail, the nursing cover would go flying, and everyone would see my bits. The same thing happened if I tried to cover her while guests were at my house. My Father-in-law saw me half-naked way more times than I ever would've hoped (that number of times being zero). I was heard to say things like "Only 48 more weeks of nursing!" and "I can't wait until she's eating solid food...it will save so much time and I will not miss being stapled to the couch for 45 minutes out of every 2 hours one bit".
Fast-forward to month 3, and Emily had started up an endearing new behavior. About every third time I'd try to nurse her, she'd throw an almighty fit and flat-out refuse to calm down until I gave her a bottle. It wasn't reflux, it wasn't because she was too hungry, or not hungry enough, or too distracted, or to cold, or the room was too bright, or any number of a hundred things we tried to "fix", it was just that she didn't feel like nursing. Ok, no sweat, I had some bottles of frozen breastmilk, when she threw a fit I'd defrost some, feed it to her, then pump and my milk supply wouldn't suffer.
But it did suffer. I tried taking Fenugreek all day, hooking myself up to the pump for extra sessions, drinking extra water, I even considered getting drugs from Canada to help my milk supply. But all that happened was that I felt exhausted and irritable all the time and slowly my stash of frozen breastmilk dwindled.
In October, we all flew to Chicago and I was freaking about what to do milk-wise. What if Emily freaked on the plane and wouldn't nurse? I brought some breastmilk, but what about on the way back? I spent weeks worrying about what to do, and finally decided we could give her a bit of formula while she was there if she needed it. We introduced formula a couple days ahead of time to make sure she'd take it, and let me tell you! The feeling of freedom I got from dumping the rest of an unfinished bottle down the drain instead of desperately trying to force it down Emily's throat because it had been painfully rendered from my body and dammit, Emily WAS going to get those antibodies and nutrients! We only ended up having to give her 2 bottles of formula while in Chicago. But it was fairly impossible to pump as much as I needed to there, and once again, my milk supply suffered.
When we got back, Emily's appetite just flat out exceeded my best efforts at milk production. She was eating some solid food by then, and I hoped that would fill her requirements that I couldn't. It didn't, and a bottle of formula per day became the norm. She continued to have her fits occasionally, except now she scratched and pinched and had teeth. No matter what expert's advice I tried, she'd laugh at me and just bite me more. It was like trying to nurse a woodchipper.
A missed pumping session here, an especially hungry day for Emily there, and by December she was getting 2-3 bottles of formula a day.
Then January came. And Emily decided not to nurse anymore. Ever. Every single time I tried, I got the same reaction she had started at 3 months. I was fairly inconsolable for a day or two. If she woke up at exactly the right time and was still sleepy enough, I could still get her to nurse first thing in the morning though, and I set to pumping. Some mothers pump exclusively the whole time. Maybe I could even get my supply UP now that I had to pump so much anyway. But being home with a crawling baby who doesn't like to nap during the day does not lend itself to endless hours spent attached to a breast pump. I only usually managed to get in 2 pumping sessions a day, one in the morning and one right before bed. At night everyone would go to sleep and I would sit bleary-eyed in the office and pump for half an hour, then creep as quietly as possible into bed so as not to wake Will. The amount of milk I got was less each time, but I was terrified to skip a pumping session, lest my milk supply go down even more.
And last night, as Will got into bed and I settled Emily into her crib, Will asked me if I was coming to bed. I said "No, I have to pump". Will said "Awww...we never get to fall asleep together anymore. I miss it". I realized how much I missed it too, but my mama instinct kicked in. My baby needs my milk more than my husband and I need to fall asleep at the same time. I went to pump for half an hour anyway. I got about 1/2 Tbsp of milk...all I had made in a 24-hour period.
So I have decided this 9 months of torture is over. And despite how hard it has been...how much I've had to struggle at every step, I am extremely sad about it.
The thought of putting away the pump until our next baby comes along should be a huge relief, but it brings tears to my eyes. Defrosting and feeding Emily the last 2 bottles of milk I have in the freezer that I have been ferociously guarding for who knows what eventual use is next on my agenda, then putting away my nursing bras and tanks that I have lived in for the past 9 months. The thought of ridding the house of the last vestiges of a lactating mother and her nursling make me weepy.
I hated nursing! It was a constant fight and an omnipresent stress. Since Emily has scaled back her nursing sessions I have experienced a wonderful surge of energy...energy I forgot I ever had. And I should count myself lucky we made it this long. Some women would like to nurse but can't nurse for one reason or another. Some women stop on purpose after 3 months or 6 months. And some women have no desire to nurse at all. Only 11% of moms still nurse their babies at 6 months.
But I feel guilty for not trying harder. I feel sad that Emily and I won't have those nice nursing moments anymore, even though they were few and far between. Nursing has been a constant, since the first minutes of her life. She has started crawling now, and walking while holding onto the couch and feeding herself cheerios, but nursing is the first major thing she has STOPPED doing.
Those of you who know me also know I usually plan things, and then they happen, simple as that. I am incredibly lucky that that is the case, believe me I realize that. But I guess I haven't been prepared for disappointment so I feel cheated that something so important hasn't gone as I had planned.
So I am going to go pump now, then boil my pump parts one last time, pack it all up, and put it away until I'm getting ready to go to the hospital to have my next baby. I'll feed Emily the rest of the milk from the freezer. Then, because I believe in looking at the bright side of things, I think I'll go on a three-day bender, because it has been a year and a half since I've gotten good and drunk!
-Sara
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Bowls and Balls
Sunday was the first time I have been in the country during the superbowl since before Janet Jackson showed her goodies on national television. There is a week-long newspaper management seminar the first week of February every year that Will and I usually attend, and it's in a different place every year (usually in the Caribbean). So usually we watch the superbowl in a beach bar being broadcast out of Puerto Rico with nothing but cell phone and insurance commercials in spanish. We would have been watching it from Aruba this year, had we not decided that neither leaving Emily behind for several days nor taking her with us on a trip to Aruba were good options. So I decided since we were going to be at home this year we should have a superbowl party, since we have missed out on that experience for the past few years. I am nothing if not an optimist.
The party went quite well even though Will and I are out of practice as hosts. We used to entertain a lot before Emily was born but I have been hesitant to attempt hosting a party while having to care for a baby at the same time, but the food was good:
And Will played an excellent bartender:
I was surprised how many people were interested in the game, I didn't have most of my friends figured as football fans but everyone was pretty excited about it, which always helps. I enjoyed talking with my female guests as they periodically slipped out into the kitchen to get some snacks. We did realize that we need more seating in our living room, this is at the beginning of the night, before everyone had even showed up:
Another good thing about staying behind from the trip this year is that we were able to attend the Mardi Gras ball in Frederick. Usually this is a stuffy debutante ball hosted by the Frederick Women's Civic Club (a bunch of old ladies) but this year it turned out to be much more fun. In 1998, the first year I attended, one of the princesses wore a strapless dress. The old ladies were scandalized, fans were aflutter, monocles were dropping left and right. At least I assume so, based on the fact that by the time I was a princess the next year there was a rule that your dress HAD to have sleeves, and had to be approved by a member of the club before it could be worn to the ball. This severely limited my choice of dress, and I ended up having to wear a dress I didn't really like that 4 other girls also had.
But this year it was much more fun, and there were no dress limitations. Maybe it's because I can drink now, maybe it's because Will's cousins and sisters are getting older so we have more people in our age bracket to associate with, maybe it's because the old ladies actually chose a decent DJ, but we actually had a good time. I even saw one of the aforementioned ladies freak dancing with a high school boy to Sir Mix a Lot. That's the kind of grandma I want to be!
Now Tina is "out", she has been properly presented to society, and can begin to receive gentleman callers. At least that's the way it would be if we were in a Jane Austen novel and not the only place in the tri-state area that still has debutante balls almost 200 years later! That hussy Tina has already had 2 boyfriends before being properly presented though, so I seriously doubt any nice young man of respectable position will consider her now. She did look very pretty though :-)
Dancing with her dad, the former King Proteus:
Dancing with sister Margaret:
Sara, Will, Tina, Margaret and Brad:
Will, Sara (in her $17 dress), Margaret, Brad, cousin Ceci and Ben:
Ceci and Ben:
Glowstick origami:
The siblings goofing off:
-Sara
The party went quite well even though Will and I are out of practice as hosts. We used to entertain a lot before Emily was born but I have been hesitant to attempt hosting a party while having to care for a baby at the same time, but the food was good:
And Will played an excellent bartender:
I was surprised how many people were interested in the game, I didn't have most of my friends figured as football fans but everyone was pretty excited about it, which always helps. I enjoyed talking with my female guests as they periodically slipped out into the kitchen to get some snacks. We did realize that we need more seating in our living room, this is at the beginning of the night, before everyone had even showed up:
Another good thing about staying behind from the trip this year is that we were able to attend the Mardi Gras ball in Frederick. Usually this is a stuffy debutante ball hosted by the Frederick Women's Civic Club (a bunch of old ladies) but this year it turned out to be much more fun. In 1998, the first year I attended, one of the princesses wore a strapless dress. The old ladies were scandalized, fans were aflutter, monocles were dropping left and right. At least I assume so, based on the fact that by the time I was a princess the next year there was a rule that your dress HAD to have sleeves, and had to be approved by a member of the club before it could be worn to the ball. This severely limited my choice of dress, and I ended up having to wear a dress I didn't really like that 4 other girls also had.
But this year it was much more fun, and there were no dress limitations. Maybe it's because I can drink now, maybe it's because Will's cousins and sisters are getting older so we have more people in our age bracket to associate with, maybe it's because the old ladies actually chose a decent DJ, but we actually had a good time. I even saw one of the aforementioned ladies freak dancing with a high school boy to Sir Mix a Lot. That's the kind of grandma I want to be!
Now Tina is "out", she has been properly presented to society, and can begin to receive gentleman callers. At least that's the way it would be if we were in a Jane Austen novel and not the only place in the tri-state area that still has debutante balls almost 200 years later! That hussy Tina has already had 2 boyfriends before being properly presented though, so I seriously doubt any nice young man of respectable position will consider her now. She did look very pretty though :-)
Dancing with her dad, the former King Proteus:
Dancing with sister Margaret:
Sara, Will, Tina, Margaret and Brad:
Will, Sara (in her $17 dress), Margaret, Brad, cousin Ceci and Ben:
Ceci and Ben:
Glowstick origami:
The siblings goofing off:
-Sara
Monday, February 4, 2008
Can you really put a price on the safety of your child?
Safe Start Baby childproofing company can. And that price is just shy of $2000.
As a Christmas present to us my mother-in-law is having our house babyproofed. It's right up her alley, because she is extremely careful about child safety. In fact, if she takes a look at my fireplace (which boasts genuine foam fireplace guards purchased from a well-respected childproofing catalog) and tells me one more time that when SHE was raising babies in this house she duct taped a comforter to the hearth just to be extra super careful and I should do the same thing, I am going to duct tape a comforter to her head. Nevertheless, the thought of spending days changing outlet covers and bolting bookcases to the wall myself makes me yawn in irritation, so last week we had a consultant come and write down every.single.thing that could be done to make our house 100% safe for a baby. They send an estimate after that, and you choose what things you'd like them to do and what things you think you can do without. I truly believe you could babyproof a lion's cave for less than $2000, so what does that say about the dangerous pit of despair we must live in?
I spent some time today crossing things off the list like "Swivel latch - 16 - $32.00" "Swivel latch labor - 16 - $104". Yes, they charge $6.50 to install a $2.00 piece of plastic...16 times. I am not a person to be free with someone else's money (unless it is a business' money, in which case I view it as the best way to travel), so I pared the list down to what I believe is a good balance between things I REALLY don't want to do and a cost that I don't see as being TOO exorbitant. But hey, I guess everybody gots ta get paid. And I'm sure their insurance is through the roof.
So tomorrow, the babyproofers will descend on my house and make it fit for baby habitation. I think I'll need to host a lot of playgroups here to make it worthwhile, but really, who can put a price on the safety of your child? I find that statement to be INCREDIBLY misleading. It insinuates that by not spending this money you are putting your child in direct danger, whereas what you're really doing is buying peace of mind. What are the chances that your child will ever try to insert his or her chubby little finger into the outlet in the master bathroom? You never know of course, but as we don't plan to allow Emily into the master bathroom unsupervised until she is old enough to know better (and after tomorrow we will have childproof doorguards on both the master bedroom and bathroom doors) I feel it is a "safe" risk to take. But based on the title of my post (which many people like to throw around when it suits their purpose) I am being cheap by trying to save money and making my child less safe.
It is a very nice thing that my mother-in-law is doing for us though, and necessary too, as Emily has made a mockery of our attempts at childproofing so far:
-Sara
As a Christmas present to us my mother-in-law is having our house babyproofed. It's right up her alley, because she is extremely careful about child safety. In fact, if she takes a look at my fireplace (which boasts genuine foam fireplace guards purchased from a well-respected childproofing catalog) and tells me one more time that when SHE was raising babies in this house she duct taped a comforter to the hearth just to be extra super careful and I should do the same thing, I am going to duct tape a comforter to her head. Nevertheless, the thought of spending days changing outlet covers and bolting bookcases to the wall myself makes me yawn in irritation, so last week we had a consultant come and write down every.single.thing that could be done to make our house 100% safe for a baby. They send an estimate after that, and you choose what things you'd like them to do and what things you think you can do without. I truly believe you could babyproof a lion's cave for less than $2000, so what does that say about the dangerous pit of despair we must live in?
I spent some time today crossing things off the list like "Swivel latch - 16 - $32.00" "Swivel latch labor - 16 - $104". Yes, they charge $6.50 to install a $2.00 piece of plastic...16 times. I am not a person to be free with someone else's money (unless it is a business' money, in which case I view it as the best way to travel), so I pared the list down to what I believe is a good balance between things I REALLY don't want to do and a cost that I don't see as being TOO exorbitant. But hey, I guess everybody gots ta get paid. And I'm sure their insurance is through the roof.
So tomorrow, the babyproofers will descend on my house and make it fit for baby habitation. I think I'll need to host a lot of playgroups here to make it worthwhile, but really, who can put a price on the safety of your child? I find that statement to be INCREDIBLY misleading. It insinuates that by not spending this money you are putting your child in direct danger, whereas what you're really doing is buying peace of mind. What are the chances that your child will ever try to insert his or her chubby little finger into the outlet in the master bathroom? You never know of course, but as we don't plan to allow Emily into the master bathroom unsupervised until she is old enough to know better (and after tomorrow we will have childproof doorguards on both the master bedroom and bathroom doors) I feel it is a "safe" risk to take. But based on the title of my post (which many people like to throw around when it suits their purpose) I am being cheap by trying to save money and making my child less safe.
It is a very nice thing that my mother-in-law is doing for us though, and necessary too, as Emily has made a mockery of our attempts at childproofing so far:
-Sara
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Home Improvements 2
This is my kitchen (and I thought we'd had every square inch of that wallpaper eradicated from our house):
This is my holey family room ceiling:
This is my mailbox:
You wish you were this cool.
-Sara
This is my holey family room ceiling:
This is my mailbox:
You wish you were this cool.
-Sara
Home Improvement
One of the biggest misconceptions I had about babies when I first became a mom was that once they started sleeping through the night they would continue to sleep through the night. So when little 10 week old Emily first slept for an 8 hour stretch I was ecstatic! I had heard horror stories of 3 year olds who had never yet slept through an entire night at one stretch, and my mom told me my sister didn't sleep through the night until they let her cry it out when she was 6 months old. 6 months! However did they manage? I couldn't believe they let that nonsense go on for that long.
Fast forward to weeks 18-26 or so, and Emily was back to her old tricks, getting up 2 or even 3 times a night. Since then she has gone through phases, she'll sleep through the night like a champ for a week or two, then it's back to getting up for at least one snack and visit at night.
I know I shouldn't complain. I have a friend whose 8.5 month old still wakes up 5-7 times a night and often screams for an hour or two while she's up. I don't know how this amazing woman is still alive, let alone coherent during the day.
The last two days Emily has awakened in the night, and at 5:00AM decided that sleep is for chumps and insistently declared that she is ready to start her day. Usually she eats at 5 but then goes back to sleep until 8, allowing me time to get breakfast and Will's lunch together and get the morning dishes under control. It makes a big difference, not having those couple hours baby-free. Going on less sleep than you're used to and being responsible for a baby for more waking hours than is customary is stressful, and stress breeds more stress.
Will is having his single most stressful time at work ever, with closing down the Job Shop, selling off the equipment, placing employees in new positions and moving into a new position himself in the new building. I have been very stressed recently, because every single day this week we've had construction workers tromping through our house, putting in overhead lights, installing microwaves, waking up Emily when I FINALLY get her down for a nap etc. I've made more trips than I care to think about to Home Depot, where they put products on display that are actually special order items but there's no way for a customer to tell that unless they track down an employee 5 aisles over who has no idea what's going on in the appliances department (but who you suspect would still be giving you that bovine stare even if you were in his area of "expertise") and 40 minutes later after contacting 3 other employees and paging a manager you find out you're out of luck.
Even as I write this, it was discovered that the microwave I ended up buying because it was the only one available right away had been returned by the previous purchaser not because it was "Too big", but because the idiots who tried to install it the first time stripped a screw on the back and pushed two lug nuts INTO the back of the microwave so it is completely useless. HOORAY, ANOTHER TRIP TO HOME DEPOT TODAY AND ANOTHER DAY WITH WORKMEN IN MY KITCHEN AT 8AM!
Even the dogs are stressed. Remy barfs if you look at him sideways, which means I have to wash the floor constantly lest Emily goes crawling through a pile of dog vomit. Heck, taking in the view that will be on display for our party guests on Sunday of the bare light bulbs hanging by wires from my ceiling and the gaping hole in my kitchen where a microwave used to be makes me want to barf. I am on day 2 of starting up Weight Watchers to lose this baby weight, which takes some time and planning, which stresses me out, which means I want to eat. Or barf. When your stomach's constantly in a knot it's hard to distinguish the two feelings.
Do you ever feel like your like will never be under control again? And if you chuckle to yourself and say "That's parenthood honey" then so help me I will drive over to your house with my dog and we'll both barf on your floor.
-Sara
Fast forward to weeks 18-26 or so, and Emily was back to her old tricks, getting up 2 or even 3 times a night. Since then she has gone through phases, she'll sleep through the night like a champ for a week or two, then it's back to getting up for at least one snack and visit at night.
I know I shouldn't complain. I have a friend whose 8.5 month old still wakes up 5-7 times a night and often screams for an hour or two while she's up. I don't know how this amazing woman is still alive, let alone coherent during the day.
The last two days Emily has awakened in the night, and at 5:00AM decided that sleep is for chumps and insistently declared that she is ready to start her day. Usually she eats at 5 but then goes back to sleep until 8, allowing me time to get breakfast and Will's lunch together and get the morning dishes under control. It makes a big difference, not having those couple hours baby-free. Going on less sleep than you're used to and being responsible for a baby for more waking hours than is customary is stressful, and stress breeds more stress.
Will is having his single most stressful time at work ever, with closing down the Job Shop, selling off the equipment, placing employees in new positions and moving into a new position himself in the new building. I have been very stressed recently, because every single day this week we've had construction workers tromping through our house, putting in overhead lights, installing microwaves, waking up Emily when I FINALLY get her down for a nap etc. I've made more trips than I care to think about to Home Depot, where they put products on display that are actually special order items but there's no way for a customer to tell that unless they track down an employee 5 aisles over who has no idea what's going on in the appliances department (but who you suspect would still be giving you that bovine stare even if you were in his area of "expertise") and 40 minutes later after contacting 3 other employees and paging a manager you find out you're out of luck.
Even as I write this, it was discovered that the microwave I ended up buying because it was the only one available right away had been returned by the previous purchaser not because it was "Too big", but because the idiots who tried to install it the first time stripped a screw on the back and pushed two lug nuts INTO the back of the microwave so it is completely useless. HOORAY, ANOTHER TRIP TO HOME DEPOT TODAY AND ANOTHER DAY WITH WORKMEN IN MY KITCHEN AT 8AM!
Even the dogs are stressed. Remy barfs if you look at him sideways, which means I have to wash the floor constantly lest Emily goes crawling through a pile of dog vomit. Heck, taking in the view that will be on display for our party guests on Sunday of the bare light bulbs hanging by wires from my ceiling and the gaping hole in my kitchen where a microwave used to be makes me want to barf. I am on day 2 of starting up Weight Watchers to lose this baby weight, which takes some time and planning, which stresses me out, which means I want to eat. Or barf. When your stomach's constantly in a knot it's hard to distinguish the two feelings.
Do you ever feel like your like will never be under control again? And if you chuckle to yourself and say "That's parenthood honey" then so help me I will drive over to your house with my dog and we'll both barf on your floor.
-Sara
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Emily the celebrity
I think it's going to her head...she's not returning my calls anymore and she refuses her pureed pears unless I serve them to her in a crystal goblet.
Emily won the Goodmama photo contest this week! If you're wondering what Goodmamas are, they're ONLY the most fabulous diaper ever to grace a baby's bum. Emily's picture is up at www.thegoodmama.com We get to be the envy of the cloth diapering world for a week, and mommy gets to choose a free diaper for Emily! I was so excited when I got our congratulations email that I squealed and jumped around, scaring my husband who was in the other room at the time.
Well, it's a big deal to me!
-Sara
Emily won the Goodmama photo contest this week! If you're wondering what Goodmamas are, they're ONLY the most fabulous diaper ever to grace a baby's bum. Emily's picture is up at www.thegoodmama.com We get to be the envy of the cloth diapering world for a week, and mommy gets to choose a free diaper for Emily! I was so excited when I got our congratulations email that I squealed and jumped around, scaring my husband who was in the other room at the time.
Well, it's a big deal to me!
-Sara
10 years
As of this Wednesday, January 30th, Will and I have been a couple for 10 years. It's hard to believe it's been that long since Will picked me up in his old Volvo after my all-county chorus practice and we went to Ruby Tuesday for dinner and saw Phantoms afterward. A lot has changed since then. We used to repeat our first date every year, but that movie theater is now super-ghetto and we don't go there anymore. We also don't go to Ruby Tuesday anymore, since they can't seem to make any food (including steamed broccoli) without dousing it in butter before serving it. We celebrate our anniversaries a little differently now.
First of all, we have to find a babysitter to celebrate these days. We left Emily with my mother...I guess that's one good thing about Emily deciding to almost completely wean herself early, it makes it easier to go away for any amount of time. This was my second night ever spent away from her, and it's still very hard.
We really enjoyed our stay at the Fairmont Mayakoba in Mexico last year, so we decided to stay at the Fairmont in DC and it was fantastic! Free breakfast buffet, afternoon tea, hot hors d'oeuvres in the evening, and even chocolate fondue at night, although we were out and about at that point so we missed it :-( The best part though was when we returned to our room after turn-down service had been there, and were greeted with rose petals in a heart shape on our bed:
and a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket (and yes, I mean champagne, not sparkling white wine!) with a personalized and signed anniversary card.
Gotta love it!
We went to dinner at Zaytinya, which is a tapas-style Lebanese/Turkish/Greek restaurant and is rated as the #1 restaurant in DC on tripadvisor. It was really good...nothing to complain about at all, but I just expected more based on the fact that it was #1 out of thousands and the chef had lots of accented letters in his name.
After that we did a limo tour of the DC nightclubs. We hit Hudson first, where we got into an argument with the bartender. I ordered a "Lo-jito", which is an 80-calorie drink made with splenda syrup and low-cal rum. We watched him put 3 sugar cubes and Cruzan rum in my drink, and when we asked him about it and pointed out that it says on the menu that it has syrup and not sugar cubes in it he got defensive and said that the only difference was the rum. Funny, he put regular rum in my drink too. And besides, that would have to be one seriously weak drink, considering that each sugar cube is 25 calories, leaving for only 5 calories worth of rum. We eventually gave up, and I grudgingly drank the nastiest (and most expensive) Mojito I've ever had.
Next we went to Fly, which is a airplane-themed nightclub. Once again, my drink was messed up, but oh well. It was a neat place, probably my favorite of the night. After that was Ultrabar, which had a $20 cover and a line wrapping around the block but was actually a fairly unpleasant experience. It was hot, loud, packed and disorienting. They were playing Oceans 13 on a screen on the wall though, so I passed my time watching that. There was no sound, so all I know is that there's a blonde lady who is all about Matt Damon even though he has a huge fake nose.
Last was 1223, which was billed as a "Champagne and Caviar bar", but was fairly indistinguishable from any of the other places we went. We could have gone across the street to Club Five after that, but it was 1AM and for this mama whose bedtime is 9, that was late enough already!
I make it sound bad, but we did have a good time on the tour overall, the company was good and the price was totally worth it. I was just a little bit underwhelmed with the DC bar scene.
After messing with the metro again on the way home, a tasty lunch at Lebanese Taverna in Rockville and a quick stop at Whole Foods and Buy Buy Baby, we were home! A whirlwind tour, but we packed a lot in and I've actually never spent the night in DC before so that was neat.
So now we've officially celebrated our 10th anniversary in style...our 5th wedding anniversary happens this year too, so we'll have to think of something fun to do for that as well. By that point Emily should be completely off the milk and formula, so no lugging the breastpump along and limiting my number of drinks on our romantic weekend. I won't know what to do with myself :-)
-Sara
First of all, we have to find a babysitter to celebrate these days. We left Emily with my mother...I guess that's one good thing about Emily deciding to almost completely wean herself early, it makes it easier to go away for any amount of time. This was my second night ever spent away from her, and it's still very hard.
We really enjoyed our stay at the Fairmont Mayakoba in Mexico last year, so we decided to stay at the Fairmont in DC and it was fantastic! Free breakfast buffet, afternoon tea, hot hors d'oeuvres in the evening, and even chocolate fondue at night, although we were out and about at that point so we missed it :-( The best part though was when we returned to our room after turn-down service had been there, and were greeted with rose petals in a heart shape on our bed:
and a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket (and yes, I mean champagne, not sparkling white wine!) with a personalized and signed anniversary card.
Gotta love it!
We went to dinner at Zaytinya, which is a tapas-style Lebanese/Turkish/Greek restaurant and is rated as the #1 restaurant in DC on tripadvisor. It was really good...nothing to complain about at all, but I just expected more based on the fact that it was #1 out of thousands and the chef had lots of accented letters in his name.
After that we did a limo tour of the DC nightclubs. We hit Hudson first, where we got into an argument with the bartender. I ordered a "Lo-jito", which is an 80-calorie drink made with splenda syrup and low-cal rum. We watched him put 3 sugar cubes and Cruzan rum in my drink, and when we asked him about it and pointed out that it says on the menu that it has syrup and not sugar cubes in it he got defensive and said that the only difference was the rum. Funny, he put regular rum in my drink too. And besides, that would have to be one seriously weak drink, considering that each sugar cube is 25 calories, leaving for only 5 calories worth of rum. We eventually gave up, and I grudgingly drank the nastiest (and most expensive) Mojito I've ever had.
Next we went to Fly, which is a airplane-themed nightclub. Once again, my drink was messed up, but oh well. It was a neat place, probably my favorite of the night. After that was Ultrabar, which had a $20 cover and a line wrapping around the block but was actually a fairly unpleasant experience. It was hot, loud, packed and disorienting. They were playing Oceans 13 on a screen on the wall though, so I passed my time watching that. There was no sound, so all I know is that there's a blonde lady who is all about Matt Damon even though he has a huge fake nose.
Last was 1223, which was billed as a "Champagne and Caviar bar", but was fairly indistinguishable from any of the other places we went. We could have gone across the street to Club Five after that, but it was 1AM and for this mama whose bedtime is 9, that was late enough already!
I make it sound bad, but we did have a good time on the tour overall, the company was good and the price was totally worth it. I was just a little bit underwhelmed with the DC bar scene.
After messing with the metro again on the way home, a tasty lunch at Lebanese Taverna in Rockville and a quick stop at Whole Foods and Buy Buy Baby, we were home! A whirlwind tour, but we packed a lot in and I've actually never spent the night in DC before so that was neat.
So now we've officially celebrated our 10th anniversary in style...our 5th wedding anniversary happens this year too, so we'll have to think of something fun to do for that as well. By that point Emily should be completely off the milk and formula, so no lugging the breastpump along and limiting my number of drinks on our romantic weekend. I won't know what to do with myself :-)
-Sara
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Uh oh, better call Graco
Today I thought to myself: "I'm sure Emily would behave for a really quick shopping trip to get mommy a dress". I don't know why I continue to convince myself of such ridiculous things, but I do. That is why I ended up in the parking lot of Ann Taylor Loft today juggling clothes, a couple bags of groceries and a screaming baby, a fashionable stream of baby barf trickling slowly down the shoulder of my coat. I was one of THOSE moms. You know, the ones you saw when you were young and childless and thought "I will never look that dishevelled and out of control when I'M a mom". Well maybe you won't you silly young childless people you, but I certainly did.
It was no surprise then, when I started to pull out of my parking spot and heard "Thunk!" from behind my car. I pulled back into my space, jumped out of my car and, casting casual sidelong glances to the right and left to see if there was anyone watching, sheepishly folded up my now broken Graco stroller and threw it in my trunk.
Now some people have said "At least Emily wasn't IN the stroller when you hit it". Yes, that is true. But do they really think I would've forgotten my BABY was sitting behind my car? A stroller is one thing, your very own flesh and blood is another. And maybe I'm just a little irritated already because I was informed while I was shopping that you would never see a baby in China dressed as scantily as Emily was during the winter (apparently this woman was so horrified by the tiny strip of skin showing where Emily's pants had pulled up above her socks that she failed to notice the baby sized fur-lined parka and earflap hat lovingly knit by her mother that she was also sporting) but I would hope that people don't see me as the type of person who would accidentally run over her own child because she left her sitting alone (and dressed in next to nothing!) in a chilly parking lot. Because the way Emily was yelling, only a deaf person could have forgotten her...
But the good news is that upon further inspection it appears only the wheel is broken, so I will be putting a call in to Graco tomorrow to try to wheedle a new wheel because those strollers ain't cheap.
My dress was though! $17 for a black satin evening dress at Ann Taylor Loft! Now I'm set for all the glamorous events I will be attending the next two weekends. I think that makes the trip totally worth it, stroller casualties and all.
-Sara
It was no surprise then, when I started to pull out of my parking spot and heard "Thunk!" from behind my car. I pulled back into my space, jumped out of my car and, casting casual sidelong glances to the right and left to see if there was anyone watching, sheepishly folded up my now broken Graco stroller and threw it in my trunk.
Now some people have said "At least Emily wasn't IN the stroller when you hit it". Yes, that is true. But do they really think I would've forgotten my BABY was sitting behind my car? A stroller is one thing, your very own flesh and blood is another. And maybe I'm just a little irritated already because I was informed while I was shopping that you would never see a baby in China dressed as scantily as Emily was during the winter (apparently this woman was so horrified by the tiny strip of skin showing where Emily's pants had pulled up above her socks that she failed to notice the baby sized fur-lined parka and earflap hat lovingly knit by her mother that she was also sporting) but I would hope that people don't see me as the type of person who would accidentally run over her own child because she left her sitting alone (and dressed in next to nothing!) in a chilly parking lot. Because the way Emily was yelling, only a deaf person could have forgotten her...
But the good news is that upon further inspection it appears only the wheel is broken, so I will be putting a call in to Graco tomorrow to try to wheedle a new wheel because those strollers ain't cheap.
My dress was though! $17 for a black satin evening dress at Ann Taylor Loft! Now I'm set for all the glamorous events I will be attending the next two weekends. I think that makes the trip totally worth it, stroller casualties and all.
-Sara
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
My first post here
I have found that in order to have a good blog that people want to read, you need at least 1 of 4 things:
#1 An interesting life
#2 Writing talent
#3 A unique world view
#4 A high post rate
I can't say that I have any of these things...and yet I have heard and heeded the call to blog nonetheless.
I have taken stabs at blogging before, and if I can figure out how I will try to consolidate my other blogs into the archives here so that all of my loyal readers can follow the intermittent but still enthralling story of my life over the past few years.
I am 26 years old, married for 4 years to my high school sweetheart (the 10 year anniversary of our first date is next week!) and am living in the suburbs in Frederick County, MD. We have a beautiful daughter Emily who is 8.5 months old, and she takes up most of my time right now. We have two irritating dogs, an Australian Cattle Dog named Mingus and an Australian Shepherd/Beagle/who knows what else mix named Remy. When I am not actively dealing with Emily or cleaning up after her, I like to knit, read, bum around the internet, and go to the gym. In the grander scheme of things I love to travel, but I haven't been anywhere notable of late because I have been at home nesting and caring for my young.
I am currently a stay-at-home mom, but in my former life I was an Analytical Chemist and I worked at an environmental water testing lab for the 3-year stretch between graduating from the University of Maryland/getting married and deciding to stay home with Emily.
I am writing this blog mostly for myself, but hopefully despite my lack of interesting blog writing qualifications readers will find it amusing if nothing else.
-Sara
Monday, December 17, 2007
Emily's Christmas List
My daughter is already disobeying me every chance she gets. She even deleted my post here while I was writing it, so this is my second shot. It makes me fear for her teenage years. If she is this bad now, when she's barely even mobile, how much worse will it get then?
Emily's Christmas list, if Emily could write, would look something like this:
-A 6-pack of Minguses
-Electrical wires, preferably plugged in to a power source
-Plastic grocery bags
-A plastic tape measurer (the kind with sharp edges and metal on either end)
-A broom
I take issue with all of these things. I have explained to Emily that none of them are good for babies to play with. Doggies don't like it when you try to bite them and pull on their hair (especially high-strung doggies like Mingus), electrical wires can electrocute you once you have more than two teeth to bite them with, plastic grocery bags can suffocate you, the tape measurer is a strangulation hazard and can cut you, and a broom is just nasty, but these items are her favorite things in the world. If any one of these things comes into her line of vision, her face lights up and she utters an earsplitting shriek of joy as she wiggles her way towards the object she's spotted.
Tomorrow I'm going to attempt to take her to see Santa, I am going to have to stay close by to make sure she doesn't ask him for an electrical plastic Mingus with a broom. A regular Mingus is more than enough Mingus for one household.
Speaking of Mingus, he's a pretty infected guy. We brought him home from the kennel, and he developed an eye infection like he always does after staying there. Luckily I had some leftover eye ointment and took care of that myself. Next, he started the telltale scratching-followed-by-yelping routine that signifies an ear infection. I just got him in to the vet, and it turns out it's a yeast infection, so I have to give him ungodly-expensive antifungal cream in his ear every night. I should've just bought a tube of Monistat at Safeway, probably would've saved me a bunch of money. The problem here is that Mingus is not a good enough dog to warrant me having to constantly medicate him and take tender care of him as I nurse him through his troubles. If he were a steadfast and devoted dog who loved me, that would be one thing. But he spends most of his time growling or whining at me, trying to push me to wherever he wants me to go, and nibbling on my baby (it must be the Dingo in him). He's much better than he was, and he was a rescue dog so I guess he's pretty good considering all that, but geez. If he's going to be so sickly, he should be a good dog and make it worth my while that I have to cram pills down his slimy throat and anoint his various infected body parts with ointment. Blech.
Other than trying to keep my baby from killing herself and medicating my dog, I am spending my time these days getting ready for Christmas. I have to take my car in for it's check-up tomorrow, so while I'm out I hope to finish my Christmas shopping and get stamps so that I can spend the rest of the week holed up at home wrapping presents and sending out Christmas cards. I don't know what I'm going to do next year when Emily will recognize her presents. Right now they're sitting in a box about 4 feet from where she usually hangs out and she's none the wiser. I think that's awesome. I don't have room in my house to hid presents everywhere, every nook and cranny is already filled with stuff we don't need but dang it we might one day so we're keeping it just in case. And we'll probably be getting another round of unusual gifts from Will's Grandma to pop in the closets this year.
I hope you all enjoy your respective goofy Grandmother gifts, Happy Holidays to everyone!
There, are you happy Will?
-Sara
Emily's Christmas list, if Emily could write, would look something like this:
-A 6-pack of Minguses
-Electrical wires, preferably plugged in to a power source
-Plastic grocery bags
-A plastic tape measurer (the kind with sharp edges and metal on either end)
-A broom
I take issue with all of these things. I have explained to Emily that none of them are good for babies to play with. Doggies don't like it when you try to bite them and pull on their hair (especially high-strung doggies like Mingus), electrical wires can electrocute you once you have more than two teeth to bite them with, plastic grocery bags can suffocate you, the tape measurer is a strangulation hazard and can cut you, and a broom is just nasty, but these items are her favorite things in the world. If any one of these things comes into her line of vision, her face lights up and she utters an earsplitting shriek of joy as she wiggles her way towards the object she's spotted.
Tomorrow I'm going to attempt to take her to see Santa, I am going to have to stay close by to make sure she doesn't ask him for an electrical plastic Mingus with a broom. A regular Mingus is more than enough Mingus for one household.
Speaking of Mingus, he's a pretty infected guy. We brought him home from the kennel, and he developed an eye infection like he always does after staying there. Luckily I had some leftover eye ointment and took care of that myself. Next, he started the telltale scratching-followed-by-yelping routine that signifies an ear infection. I just got him in to the vet, and it turns out it's a yeast infection, so I have to give him ungodly-expensive antifungal cream in his ear every night. I should've just bought a tube of Monistat at Safeway, probably would've saved me a bunch of money. The problem here is that Mingus is not a good enough dog to warrant me having to constantly medicate him and take tender care of him as I nurse him through his troubles. If he were a steadfast and devoted dog who loved me, that would be one thing. But he spends most of his time growling or whining at me, trying to push me to wherever he wants me to go, and nibbling on my baby (it must be the Dingo in him). He's much better than he was, and he was a rescue dog so I guess he's pretty good considering all that, but geez. If he's going to be so sickly, he should be a good dog and make it worth my while that I have to cram pills down his slimy throat and anoint his various infected body parts with ointment. Blech.
Other than trying to keep my baby from killing herself and medicating my dog, I am spending my time these days getting ready for Christmas. I have to take my car in for it's check-up tomorrow, so while I'm out I hope to finish my Christmas shopping and get stamps so that I can spend the rest of the week holed up at home wrapping presents and sending out Christmas cards. I don't know what I'm going to do next year when Emily will recognize her presents. Right now they're sitting in a box about 4 feet from where she usually hangs out and she's none the wiser. I think that's awesome. I don't have room in my house to hid presents everywhere, every nook and cranny is already filled with stuff we don't need but dang it we might one day so we're keeping it just in case. And we'll probably be getting another round of unusual gifts from Will's Grandma to pop in the closets this year.
I hope you all enjoy your respective goofy Grandmother gifts, Happy Holidays to everyone!
There, are you happy Will?
-Sara
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Rude Awakening
This morning I awoke to the sound of shattering glass and my husband cursing. Well, in all fairness I ORIGINALLY awoke to the sound of my daughter fussing, but once I nursed her and went back to sleep, THAT'S when I heard the shattering glass. I went to investigate, and found Will standing in a sparkling sea of glass shards at the front door. Apparently our new storm door and the 18 degree cold didn't agree, and the minute Will touched the door this morning the glass shattered into a million pieces. It's ok, because the since the door is only a couple months old I'm sure it's still under warranty, and I had accidentally pulled the handle off of it a couple times already so it was a bad egg from the start. Now we are denied the use of our front door for a little while, but I'm sure we can manage. It got me up and vacuuming though, and I managed to get the whole downstairs done before Emily woke up, which was nice because I don't like to vacuum when she's awake and downstairs. It hurts her ears and I can't hear if she's calling for me. If you'd ever asked me before whether or not I'd be happy to be awake and vacuuming at 6:15AM, I would have laughed in your face, but time makes fools of us all I suppose.
Yesterday Emily and I braved the snow and went down to Gaithersburg for my Dad's federal gold medal ceremony. I'm so proud of my dad! I was worried however about how Emily would hold up through several long drives and sitting in a quiet auditorium for over an hour, but once again, she did beautifully. She lasted a full hour sitting in the auditorium without making noise, and she was fascinated by applause. Mom did have to take her out of the auditorium for the last 20 minutes of the ceremony, but that was only because she was squealing and talking loudly. Emily even got to meet the director of NIST, who has a 2-year old son and I think she made a great impression (networking already)! She slept all the way home, even though we were in bad traffic and it was past her dinner time. Yay Emily!
Once again, I've rewarded her good behavior with shots. We went in and got her Hib and IPV today, but she only cried until I picked her up, then she was fine, she was even good at the grocery store afterward. She's snoozing happily, and now she has a 2-month reprieve before her next shots are due.
So enjoy the Christmas (or Hanukka) season all of you, and I'll try to post again before it's all over!
-Sara
Yesterday Emily and I braved the snow and went down to Gaithersburg for my Dad's federal gold medal ceremony. I'm so proud of my dad! I was worried however about how Emily would hold up through several long drives and sitting in a quiet auditorium for over an hour, but once again, she did beautifully. She lasted a full hour sitting in the auditorium without making noise, and she was fascinated by applause. Mom did have to take her out of the auditorium for the last 20 minutes of the ceremony, but that was only because she was squealing and talking loudly. Emily even got to meet the director of NIST, who has a 2-year old son and I think she made a great impression (networking already)! She slept all the way home, even though we were in bad traffic and it was past her dinner time. Yay Emily!
Once again, I've rewarded her good behavior with shots. We went in and got her Hib and IPV today, but she only cried until I picked her up, then she was fine, she was even good at the grocery store afterward. She's snoozing happily, and now she has a 2-month reprieve before her next shots are due.
So enjoy the Christmas (or Hanukka) season all of you, and I'll try to post again before it's all over!
-Sara
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