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.

Sunday, September 14, 2014

My Skeleton Hurts

I wanted to commit to blogging way more and posting pictures every time and being engaging and interesting and not constantly whining, but what I have come to realize is:


I can blog more, but whatever appears here is just going to be what it is. Whatever I have time for. Whatever I am feeling/thinking/smelling.

So I'll just start with that.

This was a nice weekend. Me and my husband didn't fight at all (what our arguments really boil down to is "I CARE." "I CARE MORE." "I'M TOO TIRED TO CARE." "GO TO BED."), and we actually went and saw a movie, which means we were without our nine-month-old for about three hours. Of course, we sat at the back of the theater scratching our faces and bouncing our knees because we were anxious about how he was getting on with my sister, brother-in-law, and niece, but we should have known he'd be completely fine, and he was.

It was the first time we'd been out in five months, which is just preposterous. But it's difficult to make the effort when you're exhausted.

Saturday night my husband picked up our neighbors from the airport -- they stayed at a Sandals resort in the Bahamas (I will kill them with my jealous rage) -- and I read a little (The Bone Clocks -- loving it), slept a little, and watched Dallas Buyers Club (good stuff. Jared Leto was amazing).

Sleep is still so elusive. Graham sometimes sleeps through the night, but his regular wakeup time when he does that is 5:30 a.m. I think we can all agree that is a hellacious hour to get out of bed, but he's as cheerful as an elf on crack. About 65% of the time he wakes around 3 or 4 a.m. and I need to nurse him back down and then I can't get back to sleep and I lie in bed and hate my brain as it makes REALLY STUPID LISTS of things I need to do that day. ("Well lessee here I need to do the laundry and get the groceries and make the baby food ..." WHO CARES EVERY DAY IS THE SAME AS THE DAY BEFORE YOU WILL BE FINE IF YOU DON'T THINK ABOUT IT FIVE HOURS IN ADVANCE YOU ASSHOLE)

My brain is as asshole.

Also, my skeleton hurts because I have The Olds and when you are the elderly parent of a nine-month-old, it hurts to heave your carcass off the floor after playing with your child. Being a little chunky monkey doesn't help matters, I'm sure.

I am getting out more. I am still thinking a lot about sleep training (I am weak). I am thinking about losing weight. I am thinking about a birthday coming up next month. I am thinking about having work done on the house. And I? Am hiring someone to clean my house. Which is pretty much the best idea I've had in a couple years.

That's all for now. Stay tuned for more of the minutiae of my days.