Wednesday, October 01, 2014

A latte of griping

So I was having a rough morning. I'd had an argument. Aunt Flo is in town (which in and of itself is not that crappy but this is her first visit in more than a year and a half which basically means a year and a half's PMS is raging right now). Finally, Graham had a crappy nap and would therefore be crabby for the rest of the day.

And to top things off, I look SO OLD now you guys. And I am so fat. And then I went to the store with one droopy boob because I forgot to clip one side of my bra back in after feeding the kid.

Basically it was a shitstorm of first world problems.

So I decided that, it being October 1, this would be a lovely day for a pumpkin spice latte. So I drove to Starbucks, and speaking of shitstorms, there was a shitstorm of a-holes from a nearby gym standing around in spandex, causing a terribly long line. So, remembering Peet's also sells a pumpkin latte, I went there. It was much more reasonable. A woman with a dog even smiled at me. Things were looking up! So I ordered my latte and was then told they were OUT OF PUMPKIN. I almost cried. But instead I ordered a vanilla latte.


Just kidding.

Well sort of not kidding.

Then I drank my latte and became a better mother. A caffeinated Erin is just a better Erin; there is no doubt. Unfortunately I can't have caffeine regularly because I have The Oldz and my heart might 'splode.

Then I got butternut squash soup from Le Boulanger. Never mind there is a heat advisory today and I am getting all this hot stuff to eat/drink. And also never mind that I also had butternut squash soup for dinner last night.

I desperately want for it to be fall so I can just break out the cable knit, but October seems to desperately want to be a summer month. The rest of the week is forecasted to be in the 90s.

I know that was a terribly interesting story. You are welcome.

In other news, professionals have cleaned my house. As I texted to a friend, I should have been ashamed to allow strangers to see the place in the state it was in, but all I truly felt was a bone-deep weariness and enormous relief. And honestly, my shower has probably never been cleaner. The sort of hilarious thing is Lucia, the woman who cleaned my house with her little friend, seriously underestimated how frigging filthy the place was, and literally threw in the towel after a few hours because she didn't have enough time to do everything. Still, everything she did was approximately four thousand times better than what normally happens around here. She will be asked back soon, and  hopefully she will agree to do so.

Monday, September 22, 2014

If you think you're tired now...

On Friday, Graham pulled himself into a standing position on his own, twice. Since then he's done it countless times, and today he was awfully close to just jumping to his feet from a seated position. Which ... he'll be 10 months old next week, and I sort of hadn't expected to need to deal with a child who walks for at least another couple months.

So over the weekend I sent my husband out to pick up a Baby Jail I bought from a woman on a Facebook moms group (all I see on Facebook now is stuff about babies and breastfeeding -- I am officially uncool). Baby Jail should come in handy when I've exhausted myself from trying to prevent Young Master from bashing his head into the coffee table or nosediving into the disgusting, hairy cat beds, which are like the number one thing he wants to dig his hands into and rub his face on right now.

So yeah, it's true; a child who needs constant supervision while attempting to stand and walk is more tiring than one who mostly sits or just rolls around on the floor. My mom said to me recently: "If you think you're tired now ..." And dude. I am so tired right now. And I see how I'm going to be even more tired soon. I object to this development, for the record.

Other baby-related things:

- On Friday G spit up all over me, but I didn't realize it'd also gotten in my bra until several hours later. Delightful.

- I've been trying a probiotic on him due to his dairy sensitivity (at the suggestion of his pediatrician), but I think maybe it's making him spit up. Does anyone have experience weaning a dairy-sensitive baby? I don't know what to give him once he's weaned. Almond milk? Then there's the concern of enough fat in his diet ...

- Speaking of weaning, I'm trying to plan my strategy so that he's weaned by around age 1. I don't expect it to be easy because he's a comfort nurser and has a strong association with nursing and sleeping.

- I'm thinking about G's first birthday because I know it's going to take me forever to get it planned. So far there are like 60 people on my invite list and I'm realizing I need to winnow it down if I plan to not completely lose my shit that day.

Thursday, September 18, 2014

To soothe a little toothless beast

Today was our first Story Time at the library, and I have concluded that it is a good way to kill an hour, except now I want to hide indoors until next Christmas because ENTEROVIRUS EVERYONE PANIC AAAAAAHHHHHH!

(Seriously, though, enterovirus.)

It was cool. A semi-enthusiastic librarian sang a few songs and read a couple books, and at the beginning and end she brings out this bear that kisses all the kids on the head (ENTEROVIRUS), and I must say that is fricking adorable because the kids love it. Graham mostly chewed on his fingers, screeched a few times, and blew raspberries. Afterward he played with a 17-month-old girl and 18-month old boy who are both learning to share. The boy was wearing a Nirvana shirt. The girl's mother kept explaining to her about the green sticker on her hand THAT'S A STICKER. A STICKER! A GREEN STICKER. Sweet lord help us poor parents. We basically spend the majority of our days repeating ourselves loudly and enthusiastically. 

Somehow the rest of the day passed. Yes, I spent quite a lot of time holding Young Master erect so  he could be Lord of the Family Room, pick toys up off the table, throw them on the floor, and then gaze at them with disdain. 

Eventually a spot of shade appeared in the back yard, so I dragged our asses out there for about an hour and it was just the ticket for my savage little beast (who was a bit sleepy and impatient today from being up for two and a half hours last night). He gazed at the leaves waving in the breeze and I laid back on a blanket and enjoyed the perfect weather. He ended up resting his head on my stomach while watching the trees, which is something he NEVER does, because it's far too similar to sleeping, and he's simply not the sort of baby who dozes off just anywhere. I got a little sentimental, thinking about how lucky I am to have this boy and my home and the opportunity to spend so many hours watching him grow. 

Now dinner is baking in the oven and darkness is settling in and I have this small window of time to myself, and it feels so nice to just type my thoughts, as mundane as they are. 

Surely someone wants to come hold this child upright for 10 hours

We have entered a developmental stage with Graham during which a few things are happening.

  1. We're down to two naps a day, often only half an hour each. (THE HORROR)
  2. Graham has decided he has no interest in crawling, and would simply like to walk. Therefore, he would like me to hold him upright all day long so he can practice. When I refuse, he cries.
  3. I am at a loss for how to keep this child occupied for as many hours as he is awake during the day.
So, finding myself with a surplus of non-napping, restless 9-month-old time on my hands, I've taken to roaming the city, much like a mommy zombie with terrible lower back pain.

I am not really sure how many times I've been to Target this week; I only know it is too many.

I went to two separate grocery stores today before noon.

I have been to pay a bill at the dentist in person.

I have walked up and down downtown Willow Glen just for giggles.

I have been to the park to try baby swings (not a hit) and to admire all the equipment that's still too advanced for Young Master. We sat in the shade for a while, but as per usual he just wanted to be held so he could stand erect, like Lord of the Park or some shit.

I have walked around the mall twice.

And today, I sank to a new low. I went to a gym and asked for a tour. HAHAHAHA. I was thinking: Maybe if I go to a gym, someone else can watch this child for 45 minutes while I listen to music on my phone and move my limbs hither and thither.

But of course then my friendly gym tour guide wanted to know MY GOALS (45 minutes of peace to myself?), so I told him I want to lose weight and feel better. He asked how I planned to do it, so I was like: the cardio machines, and, like, yoga? Which then resulted in a Speech about How I Am Doin It Wrong Because I Need To Be Lifting Weights. Fortunately for this young man (who looked all of 23 years old but claimed to have 6 year old twins, bless his heart), I did not give him MY speech which goes something like this: Do Not Talk To Me Like That Young Man Because I Have Read So Many Books On Diet And Exercise I Have Basically Earned A Degree In Nutrition And Sports Medicine And I Could Run This Fuckin Joint.

Seriously, I could be a personal trainer, if only I practiced the knowledge my brain has absorbed about diet and exercise. I don't imagine anyone wants a fat personal trainer? Anyway, I am perfectly aware that weights help with weight loss but I explained to the Young Man: But you see? (I wave in the general direction of the weight area) There are no women in the weight area. It's intimidating. And he's just like: No.

Whatever. Gym saga to be continued.


Via the magic of the Save button and the non magic of my child being awake for two and a half hours when he was supposed to be asleep (just WHY), this post did not get published last night and is instead being posted before 7 a.m. on Thursday. Because even though Sir was awake during sleep hours, he still woke at 6. At least it wasn't 5:30? God help me today.