So Camper just got pretty fussy, about 45 minutes before his naptime. I tried a few different things, and then ended up just putting him in his crib. I looked in on him a few times, saw him crawling, standing, jumping, trying to stand on his head…a million different things. Half an hour later and he’s asleep.
I feel a little guilty about putting him in there for so long before he was sleepy.
But what if he just needed some alone time?
I suck at blogging. Can you blame me? I have my husband back! I need to enjoy his presence (and his help) before he starts work again on Monday. I think that the residency was so, so good for him. He’s REALLY smiling again. AND, he even gave me a backrub tonight. And reminded me that I’m too ticklish and squirm during backrubs. Then I gave him one and realized how tired that makes me! I did “hi-yas” on his back and counted it as my exercise for the day.
Phew.
Time for sleep.
(PS We really did have an exciting life before we became parents. Oh wait, maybe it’s more exciting now.)
So many, many moons ago, I was pregnant. Whilst I was pregnant, I had some time on my hands. I was done with school, I usually worked half days (toward the end, especially), and usually felt rather miserable. Thus, I read a lot. My friend Anisa loaned me this book:
It was a good, good read. I don’t like mystery novels, not at ALL. I’ve never liked Sherlock Holmes, in any of his incarnations. But I read this book and it was smart. SO smart. And funny, in unpredictable ways. I don’t know, it could be that the protagonist is a Jewish Feminist Scholar of theology living in London, Surrey and going to school in Oxford. Um, would you like me to paint you a map of the parts of England I lived in for a year and a half? Yeah. If books were Patronouses…this would be mine.
Whatever that means.
And then I read the sequel.
Laurie R. King
So amazing, right up my alley.
So now, I’m going to find the next one, settle in during some naptime after I take the GRE, and enjoy.
I’d encourage you do to the same.
And is anyone else excited about this?
Here is a list of the things Bubbs will eat:
Sliced turkey Avocado Cheese Rice Cereal Apples Bananas Eggs
Pasta Bread Cream Cheese Jelly Mashed Potato Boiled Potato Anything Green
Green Beans Peas Carrots Cheese Broccoli Hummus Yogurt Frozen Waffles
Chickpeas/beans Blueberries Cheerios Toast Sweet Potatoes Pasta Cheese
Ok, so that’s not a complete list, but I think you get the point. Tonight I made him a turkey burger (I thought MAYBE since he’ll eat sliced turkey he MIGHT eat the burger form), broccoli, and cornbread. Yum, cornbread. He took one bite of his cornbread, literally wiped it off his tongue, and proceeded to throw it around the kitchen. I was DONE. I tried to clean up, didn’t succeed, went upstairs and put him in his crib for 15 minutes while I sat in my room and tried to wind down. He didn’t go to sleep. Did I mention he only took a 40 minute nap today? That’s it?
I brought him downstairs determined to make it until 6:30, the earliest I can possibly put him to bed without it turning into a nap. He was exhausted, I was disappointed, and both of us were ready for bedtime. But we still had to wait about an hour.
Torture.
I think my mother sensed this and she said, “Why don’t you go lay down? I’ll watch him.” At first I said, “No, it’s ok, I can’t lay down or I won’t go to sleep tonight.” About three seconds later I said, “Nevermind that, I will go lay down if that’s ok with you.” When I woke up one hour later, I found both Pop pop AND La La playing with/cuddling my sleepy baby in the living room. My mom had fed my child food he would actually eat (cheese, bites of babyfood peas between, and something else I forget), given him a bath, and taken a message for me inviting me to a mommy and baby playgroup starting up in August- the fee- $30 a month. She had also set 3 rolls of quarters next to the message.
Where do I file paperwork to have someone sainted? Anyone know?
After I cuddled my baby and put him to bed (not without sniffing his neck and having him get all giggly)(and being able to enjoy it because I wasn’t having a meltdown) we had a chat. And the consensus: I am literally driving myself crazy with this food stuff.
You see, I am NOT ABLE to reason with my child. I can’t give food fun names to entice him to eat them. The thing is, he tries just about everything. Except eggs. He’s never willingly tried eggs. Or fish. That means if he ain’t eatin’ it, there’s nothing I can do.
I guess I just need to simplify, find foods that he loves that I feel good about giving him, and not feel bad that he eats the SAME THING EVERY DAY. I mean, he did for 6 months…my Mom pointed out that I lived on the same foods for years. So why the sudden need for variety? Maybe I can work something new in here and there, he seems to like our food. But I prepare him food, or count on him eating what we eat for dinner, and I experience failure.
So as I figure this out, I’ll let you know how it goes.
But as for me, I’m going to talk to my husband and then go to sleep. Start a new week. Hopefully one in which I get out a little more, compulsively eat chocolate less, and get to see my husband again.
Night all.
Lately I’ve been feeling a little trapped. I think I’m realizing just how many of my decisions are tied to the little boy sleeping in the next room. I love him, I would sacrifice almost anything for him, and have. I know that I will be able to do lots of things that I want to do in life, but the sense that “I can do anything I want in life!” has gone from me, and been replaced by, “I need to take care of this wonderful, beautiful child.” A blessing and a limitation.
Today as I was walking through the store with mom I took Camper out of the cart and held him on my hip. He was fussing, he’s not sleeping well, and he’s biting everything he can get his teeth on. As I rounded the corner I saw an old man, thin and bent, suddenly straighten. He gazed with tired eyes at my beautiful son sitting on my hip, chewing his fist. This man’s whole face filled with light as he looked at me and said, “You are so lucky.” He said it quietly, first to me, and then to my him. “Your momma is so lucky.” I looked down and was pleased to see Camper shake his little body with happiness and then smile, sticking his tongue out at the man. I wanted the man to reach out and take him, hold him and get his fill of babyness. I wondered if he never had children, if he’d had 8, if he saw his grandchildren a lot. If he had any. The man waved, Camper waved back, and then he walked away. It struck me that he didn’t say, “Your baby is so cute!” or “What a beautiful child,” he said “lucky.” And it didn’t feel like he meant fortunate, he meant blessed. So incredibly, outrageously, undeniably blessed.
That’s when I realized, I’m not missing a thing. Not one thing.
I am so lucky.
So yeah. For about a month now we’ve had a newspaper clipping sitting on our fridge. We live in the vicinity of Tanglewood, the summer home of the Boston Pops. Tonight is Berkshire night, meaning you can get FREE TICKETS if you live within an hour of the place. And we do. So SWEET. My Mom and Dad took the Bubs up last night to get some tickets. The whole shabang started a bit late for us…about 8pm…but what LUCK! They had planned a few things for kids, the most exciting of which was an “instrument petting zoo” which started at 6. Of course, owing to Camper’s huge talent conducting the ipod with his toothbrush, I was all LET’S GO!
So we went. We grabbed a couple of friends who live nearby and set out. After we parked our car with tremendous help from the various groups of teenagers hired for the event (WHAT? WHERE ARE YOU POINTING? USE A FINGER!) we walked our butts up to the front gate and handed them our tickets. I think we asked EVERYONE we met where the visitor’s center was, “Because that’s where the petting zoo is!” They waved us on, we got there, and walked in. “I hear there’ s an intrument petting zoo around here somewhere!” The tour guides looked at me like I had ten heads.
“Uh, actually, there’s not. That was a misprint in the paper.”
“So there aren’t any instruments around here for these kids to look at?”
“No, we asked them to fix it, but they didn’t.”
“So there aren’t any instruments around here for these kids to look at?”
No. none. But there is a tour! A tour which included a VERY sweet man walking us across the lawn, pointing at this:
And telling us about that house is an original restored something or other. He told us a bit about this and that, but honestly…as hard as he tried to make it interesting for the kids…I don’t think either of the children present noticed a thing he said. We heard there was a pre-concert going down a little further in to the “musical compound” of sorts, and in an effort to get my kid to see SOME KIND OF MUSIC we walked down there. Our trusty tour guide accompanied us, still desperate to do right by us, and pointed things out as we walked. We got here:
and decided to sit on the lawn and listen for a bit. Our tour guide, who was a bit on the elderish side did NOT sit on the super uber wet grass with us, because of the whole risk ratio of PNEUMONIA and DAMPNESS, etc. As we got settled I thought I heard the voice of Satan:
Siiiittttt dooowwnnnnn!!!!!
All low and angry like. I was like, “Whoa, whoever is yelling at their kid is MEAN. Whoa.”
Then I heard it again.
Siiiiiiittttt doooowwnnnnnnnn!!!!!!!!
I turned and saw this woman:
(we were in front of her at the time)
YELLING at our friendly tour guide! I handed my mother my baby, and turned to her. I said,
“Beeeeeeee pooolllitttttteeeeee,”
and was going to go shove her face in her salad when our friendly tour guide stopped me. So instead I gave her a dirty look and said to the gang, “I’m going to put her on the Internet!”
So there, mean, witchy woman who probably got in on a free ticket just like we did and couldn’t wait 15 SECONDS for us to get settled so our tour guide to go back to whence he came. You know who you are, and shame on you. You might think you fit in with all those polo shirt wearing, champagne sipping, picnic basket grass-sitters. But you don’t. You drove back to your house and had some diet coke and mac ‘n cheese just like the rest of us, except you are MEANER.
I mean, there are a hundred funny/hilarious things that happened tonight…like my mom sitting our friends on our gate check bag for the stroller, and the wet grass seeping through, and all of our butts/knees ending up looking like this:
and like when Bubbs didn’t want to sit in the stroller and so our wee friend (who is just about 8 years old) took a turn and made Bubbs laugh. (Way to go stroller, way to handle a grown-up kid!) But honestly, it all pales in comparison to my desire to complain about the aforementioned woman. Seriously, I should have just kept with my plan to shield my child from the arts for as long as possible. The arts and polo shirts. Best laid plans.
I think I have an idea as to what our President can do with the recently evicted Guantanamo Bay residents. Make them edit video using Windows MovieMaker while listening to Yo Gabba Gabba in the background. Has no one suggested this? But as John (and the family Mac…ok…his Mac are away) I didn’t have another option when it came to recording/editing my response to this. I love momversation, and although I TOTALLY don’t agree with some of what is said…that is the POINT. I left a comment on their post, but I thought I’d write up a little something and post my own response. Here is their piece:
Ok…harshness and DECEPTION? I’ve actually been thinking about this all day, and in reflecting I’ve come up with 4 easy to remember bullet points that summarize my feeling about this topic.
1. IF YOU LIE ABOUT HAVING ME TIME, YOUR FAMILY WILL NEVER KNOW YOU NEED ME TIME.
I capitalized this because HELLO. It’s a need! It’s not “harsh,” getting out of the house and away from your family isn’t negative unless you MAKE it negative. Lying, sneaking, and grumping make it negative. Just DO IT. Just get out. If you lie and sneak away, they will never learn how to take care of you, how to make room for your needs, or the cost of your sanity. I think that lying about what you do to stay sane feeds into the picture perfect mom ideal- the one who never needs a moment to herself and who can juggle all the balls in the family court without any help. I thought we weren’t going to pretend anymore, moms? Let’s get real. One last thing: If you are getting upset and overwhelmed a lot, and your husband says, “What can I do?” or even a sarcastic, “What do you want me to do about it?” If you don’t answer him or tell him that you need some time to yourself while he takes care of the kids, you are cheating him out of a chance to make you happy, to actually do something to help, and you have NO right to get mad at him.
2. FORGET THAT STUPID GOLDEN RULE.
So I heard a bit about spouses getting antsy when these moms took a break. The constant texts messages, the phonecalls. Well…Let’s think about how to ameliorate this situation. The rule shouldn’t be “Do to others what you want done to you,” it should be, “Everyone gets what they need.” So I talk to my spouse, I say, “I need to go out for a bit. The baby hasn’t napped today and I’m all flustered. I haven’t gotten a haircut in two months…so that’s where I’ll be.” Realize that this communication TELLS HIM WHAT YOU NEED. No guessing. Then realize that you can help him feel happier about helping YOU. It’s called helping HIM. Realize that he might not want to go out and get his hair cut, he might want something DIFFERENT in his life so he can cope. Maybe you’ll find out something that brightens his day is greeting him when he comes home, and asking how his day is. I can see how that’s difficult when kids need to be fed, put to bed, you haven’t had a second to yourself all day…But realize that this is just as important to him as your “me-time” will be to you. Ask for what you need to feel sane, find out what HE needs to feel same. Reciprocate, and no one will get “mad” about you taking a little bit of “me time.” In other words, COMMUNICATE.
3. GIVE IT TO THEM STRAIGHT.
If you break down and cry about life in frustration, don’t say, “I need some ME TIME.” Honestly, I understand the importance of me time and I even think that sounds dumb. Be specific. “I need to take a bath, a quiet bath, without the baby screaming so that I can get into a better mood. Will you please keep him happy for an hour?” “I need to go walk around the mall with my friend. I need to talk to her for a bit so I can release some of this tension.” Etc. You say to a man, “I need ME TIME,” and he thinks…”Ok, that’s something she figures out on her own. Good. Time for some TV,” not realizing that you are inviting him to HELP YOU. Here’s a formula:
I need to ___________ so that I can ______________.
Start with what you’ve decided you need to do (it’s ok to say, I don’t know…say “need to go for a drive”) and end with a pleasant side-effect (or not negative, in extreme situations “not kill you” would be an appropriate end to that sentence). That way they can see the positive results from helping you achieve the first part of the sentence. (Again, it’s called communication.)
4. DON’T LIE, DON’T DISAPPEAR.
This last part will help everyone be more excited about your “me time.” Do not lie about where you are going or aren’t going, do check in if you’re gone for more than a couple of hours, don’t just disappear without telling people where you are going. If you say you’ll be home in 3 hours, or tomorrow, or right after the movie ends, BE HOME THEN. Don’t set up a habit of leaving your husband hanging, and WOW…he’ll start to trust that after you do what you said you were going to do…you’ll come back when you said you’ll come back…happier, healthier…and all around a better Mom and Wife. Your kids will learn that you need time on their own. They won’t see this as a negative thing, but rather as a benefit of being a human being. Maybe they will learn to seek healthy alone time, too, and make room for it in others. And then we shall establish world peace.
Phew. Yeah. So that’s how I feel about “deception and harshness.” I agree with these Moms on so many levels. I LOVED the eye cover- such a visual thing to show your kids you mean business and need to be left alone. But as for the lying…even little ones can send a negative signal to your family about your needs and your rights as a human person.
Now that you’ve read all this, I’ll show you my video. I have a few problems with my video. First of all, the lighting makes it look like I have no pigment. I do…not a lot…but I do. Also, for some reason it also looks like I only have hair on one side of my head. Hmmmm…maybe I do….Also, the transitions are really rough….stupid Windows Moviemaker, I couldn’t figure it out. And finally, I think I just sound like an idiot. But just like when I first started blogging, I have to just put it out there an hope I get better (and more hair on the right side of my head) in time. So HERE IT IS, my very first VLOG. For your viewing pleasure. Feel free to mock me, but whatever you do, don’t pause me so that I’m just sitting on your screen with a weird expression on my face.
Untitled from Erin Hattaway on Vimeo.
I’ve started a new review site, Little Kite Girl’s Reviews. Go over and check it out, read my review and experience going green- and enter to win some awesome soaps or cleaning supplies!
A giveaway! A $25 gift certificate to the Ecostore USA for one lucky reader. It’s not just baby stuff folks, check it out!
Here’s how to play: Leave a comment on the post about a green product from The Ecostore USA that you’d like to try. You can also decide to follow them and/or me on Twitter, and you’ll get an extra entry for each one. Just make sure you leave a comment for each Twitter feed you sign up for.
Giveaway ends August 10th at midnight. Good luck!
If any of this is foreign to you, say so and I’ll help you out.
I woke up this morning to a couple of comments and a few emails about my post last night. Thanks for being supportive and sending your positive thoughts (and even ideas for saving money!) my way.
