Category Archives: Motherhood

Blustery Wet

On this stormy Friday, we actually went out. Claire and I went on a play date at a Las Madres member’s home. Talking with other women was a tonic for me, and Claire enjoyed watching the other babies. I also met someone who’s child was born the day before Claire at the same hospital. A happy coincidence.

I really liked going to the mom’s house rather than meet at the park. (Since the weather is perfect here from April to October, the groups are typically scheduled to meet at a park. Except if you don’t arrive all at the same time, you might miss each other.) So maybe some mothers will host at their homes, and we’ll make some friends.

Speaking of friends, this evening is the 40+ Mothers Night Out. I intend to go, despite the icky weather.

For giggles, please visit Do’s and Don’ts With Babies. Just don’t be drinking a beverage while you look at it. I had an unfortunate encounter with my V8 as I did. Thanks to Tiffany for sending the link!

Fiscal Physical Fitness

I’m middle-aged. I’m overweight. My muscle tone is weaker than it was a decade or more ago. I have a baby. My left knee still hurts from pregnancy. Hmm. I’ve got a bit of a problem.

In 2006 I joined Fitness 19; paid $200 to join and a $12 monthly fee after that. I used the facility sporadically in 2006, even less in 2007. But the monthly fee was so low, it didn’t feel like a huge waste of money. Previously I’d been a member of Curves, which at $40 a month grew too high a price for the limited access (they close part of the day and early in the evening), the limited kind of workout, and the intrusive, over-friendly staff who insisted on “engaging” women during a workout when they might just want to, you know, work out.

Well, tonight I attempted to go to Fitness 19 to work out for the first time since my late pregnancy. It’s located in a strip mall with a puny parking lot, but usually by 7:00 p.m. the place would clear out. However, tonight there were no spaces. People were illegally parked in fire lanes. And there were new signs in certain spaces that said No Fitness 19 Parking. I groaned with frustration. What the hell to do? I turned around and went home. Ooo, I was grumpy.

I was mad. Mad at the parking lot size. Mad at the stupid parking restrictions. Mad that people hadn’t gone home sooner. Irrational, I know. Mostly I felt mad about the limitations on my time. The only opportunity I have to go out alone is after 7 p.m. weekdays and on weekends. However, to be functional, I usually try to go to sleep at 9:30 p.m. daily. This doesn’t leave much time for eating dinner, cleaning up, working out, showering, socializing, or “me” time.

One of the biggest changes for me in becoming a mother has been accepting the loss of “me” time. Mothering calls for much more of me than I imagined. I don’t begrudge this; it’s simply quite an adjustment.

I’m trying to figure out how to care for my physical well-being. Someone suggested the YMCA. Membership is $100 to join and $52 a month, with reduced fees for classes, and reasonable baby sitting services. But at $52 a month, I’d need to be sure I really went; it’s a lot more money, and we’re carefully managing our expenses. The other option is to go out for walks in the evenings in the neighborhood (knee permitting).

But now, since I’m supposed to be getting sleep, I’ll close here. Maybe I’ll wake up refreshed with a solution.

A Little Snack

Toe jam, anyone? šŸ˜‰ Claire impresses us with her flexibility. People pay good money to learn how to bend this way.

We still aren’t sure what color her eyes will become. Sometimes they look hazel, sometimes gray, sometimes a little blue, and there is still some brown in them.

Notice the dark blob in the background? That’s Stella, also sprawled on her back, except she’s too fat and old to get her rear paw into her mouth.

I spend a lot of time on the floor these days. Our Music Together large family percussion set arrived. Lots of noise and fun! When I’m not on the floor, I’m often in the glider in her bedroom, holding her as she sleeps.

people pay good money to do this!

A Different Kind of Laptop

This post is being written quickly on a short break I’m getting. Husband is playing with and feeding Claire, after which she’ll be ready for her late afternoon nap. So I’ve tossed the thoughts into a post without much refinement.

On Friday I played hooky from my expectations of perfect mothering. I also decided to forgo the crying-nap battle with Claire by simply holding her for her three naps. She slept wonderfully and was completely cheerful. I did the same Saturday and Sunday, and I’m doing this today. We’ve had lovely days.

It occurred to me on Friday that perhaps Claire just isn’t ready to let go of me yet. She cries so hysterically when I put her in the crib. The timed intervals of waiting before “checking and consoling” do nothing constructive. She simply cries more and more, and it would continue for more than an hour if I persevered with this technique long enough. On the other hand, she nestles in so closely when I hold her. Her eyes close and she’s asleep within 5-10 minutes in my arms. She is the embodiment of contentment and trust. This is part of her childhood. This is important and necessary.

How many opportunities in life exist to be such a source for another? I’m not quite ready to let go of her either. As I hold her, I look at her sweet face in repose and bask in it. The weather is cold and rainy; I am warm and cuddly and soft. Soon enough it will be warm outside, and she will be bigger and more restless. A voice within says to relax and stop second-guessing myself.

Up until recently I was seeing the naps as something I “should” do a certain way. Must train child! Must use crib! Must get chores done! Well, she sleeps at night in her crib just fine, so it’s not that she can’t be “sleep trained” to her crib. There’s something else going on here. Rather than view the situation as a hindrance, what if I tilted my head a little to view it differently?

Holding Claire for her naps means I get to rest several times a day. I can sit and doze, or read, or think, or not think. Holding Claire means we bond and cuddle. Holding Claire means taking the moments and savoring them. Okay, so the laundry doesn’t get done while I hold her. So I can’t chop vegetables for a meal while I hold her. Well, then she can be with me while I do those tasks when she’s awake (along with all the playing we do). She can “help” Mommy.

What if I simply trusted myself and Claire? What if I cherished the way things are rather than trying to get us to do something the way others think it should be done? This is my child. She won’t be a child forever.

Yes, it can be tiring to hold her. My butt gets a little sore. At the same time, before she was born I did a lot of sitting anyway, only I was holding a laptop computer instead.

I Really Am In Love With Her

No one thinks my child is as beautiful and precious as I do, I know. But even if you’re not obsessed with my kid, I’m gonna post this photo anyway.

precious

Gee, my decision not to show photos of my child to the entire Internet didn’t hold, eh? (Though the majority of the photos are restricted to friends and family on Flickr. Speaking of which, there are more uploaded.)

Today So Far

After the last post, I felt better. Freer. My mother called back and gave me excellent motherly support. Then I made peanut butter toast and ate while talking to Claire. Then we played more, then she ate, then she was very sleepy.

So a few minutes shy of noon, I took her to her room and rocked her. By noon she was asleep. And I? I had made sure to use the bathroom before we sat down, I had eaten, and I brought the Charles Schulz biography with me. At the beginning I dozed with her (I recently bought a Bucky pillow to prevent cricks in my neck). About an hour later I became alert when the phone rang. I stirred, she opened her eyes, but she went back to sleep, still on me. I began to read. Finally after 2.5 hours it appeared she’d happily remain asleep, but I was thirsty and my butt was numb. So I rose from the chair, and she woke. She was ravenous.

The Las Madres group I’m in had a date to meet at Central Park from 1-3 p.m. I’ve been going there every day now, and although it was 3:10 by the time we arrived, I approached a young woman with an infant in a stroller. It turned out to be the nanny of one of the mothers. So we chatted and strolled awhile, after which she departed with her charge, and I strolled a bit more with Claire. At 4:00 we stopped at the store for fruit, and then we got home.

She’s in the swing right now, because she’s tired, but she’s a bit restless and whiny. We did play and dance first, so it’s her usual sleep resistance.

I also emailed the Las Madres play group members and another Las Madres support group for mothers age 40+ and shared I was having a rough day. The responses have been sweet and supportive — and I’ve never even seen most of these women. One thing I discovered from reading their responses is that I am not alone in having a child who dislikes napping in her crib, or who takes short naps, or who is assertive and not “an easy baby.” Someone made a point that when she’s mobile, she’ll want to be held less and less, and I might come to cherish the chance to cuddle and rest with her.

And now the Pixie has given in to the Sandman, and is finally asleep in the swing. She’ll wake ravenous again soon, then Daddy will be home, and it’s his turn!

Playing Hooky

I stayed up too late last night, until 11 p.m., and I woke at 5 a.m. I’m paying for it today. I’m heavy-lidded, weary, and feel like spun glass.

Today I don’t want to deal with Claire crying, so I’ll hold her whenever she sleeps, unless she is willing to go into the swing.

Today I don’t care if I should have tried to get her to go back to sleep at 6 a.m. to finish her night sleep rather than keep her awake until 6:45 when it was clear she needed to sleep, so that she needed what will be the first of many naps today.

Today I don’t care if the Las Madres play date from 1-3 p.m. at Central Park happens during Claire’s typical afternoon nap time; if I want to go, I will, because my sanity requires it.

Today I don’t care what dinner will be.

Today if Claire whines because she’s bored with her play gym and wants me, I will let her whine awhile so I can drink my morning coffee, or eat a snack, or check my email. (And guess what? The whining didn’t kill her. She self-amused for about 20 minutes, punctuating it with grunt-whines of frustration, before she really cried. And by then she was tired, so we read a story and I put her in the swing. Just because she makes that noise doesn’t mean I must engage her every single time.)

Today I don’t care if other people think I’ll raise a spoiled brat because I am not teaching her to sleep in her crib.

Today I will remind myself that Claire and I are not adversaries.

Today when I leave the room and Claire cries (I believe separation anxiety is beginning), I won’t rush through the task I’ve left her for to get back more quickly. Yes, I will allow myself to go to the bathroom without trying to force my body to go more quickly. (Sometimes I do bring her in with me.)

Today when I change her diaper, if I don’t feel like smiling and cooing and interacting, I won’t. If I cry instead, that’s okay. (I did cry earlier, and she didn’t seem to notice that I wasn’t doing our usual routine.)

Today I will eat when I’m hungry, and I’ll actually chew the food well before swallowing.

Today I will try to let go of the “supervisor” in my head and when I look into Claire’s eyes, I will settle into them and just be with her.

Today I don’t have to try so damn hard. So I won’t.

I thank dear Karen for taking the time to listen to me and help me give myself permission to play hooky today.

Today’s Strategy

When Claire awoke around 5 a.m., Husband got up and took care of her. I woke at 5:30 though, and decided to start my day, so I took her on after the feeding. Rather than immediately try to get her to sleep again, I decided this was the start of her day and kept her up. She lasted 30 minutes, maybe 45, before she rubbed her eyes. So today I thought I’d try a different way. I held her and rocked her to sleep from 6:15 to 6:45 a.m.; when she was deeply asleep, I gently put her in the crib. She stirred very slightly but remained asleep. I tiptoed from the room and dozed on the sofa. She slept until 8:00 a.m.! She woke crying and hungry.

So we ate and played, and watched the garbage trucks come just outside her window. Around 9:20 she was sleepy, so I rocked and held her again. She does fight going to sleep; arches her back, wiggles, cries with disappointment, while at the same time her eyes are rolling back in her head and her eyelids can’t stay up because she’s so sleepy. She fell asleep within ten minutes, and again I held her for half an hour, then put her down. But Husband had to leave for work, and her room is over the garage, and the movement of the door woke her; she’d slept only 45 minutes.

Then we went to the library. We arrived too late for the baby lap-sit story time. I chatted with a couple mothers and we wandered the library children’s section. (In the past couple of days, the feedback I’ve gotten from mothers is that I’m “leader of the pack” — as one mom phrased it — in terms of getting out with Claire. A number of women said they didn’t make it to outings until their children were at least six months old.) I attempted to go for a walk in Central Park with her, but she started to get tired (again!). We got home at 11:45 a.m. and I fed her at noon. She fussed while she played, so I did the nap routine again. Except that this time, she woke up at half an hour. I put her in the crib, but she became very alert. I didn’t want to deal with crying today. So I picked her up again and returned to the chair. I held her and dozed with her; she slept for 90 minutes.

We went out to the grocery store, drugstore, and cafe, because I needed human contact and she needed stimulation. She was cheerful but became tired quickly. We got home at 3:30 and this time I decided to just put her in the swing. She’s sleeping now.

Supposedly, babies have wakeful periods of about two hours between naps, but it seems Claire has even shorter times. Then there’s the 2-3-4 rule: when babies are 6 months old or so, after first waking, they are usually awake 2 hours before the first nap, about 3 hours before the second nap, and about 4 hours before bedtime. Today is typical for Claire:

Up at 5:00 a.m.
Back to sleep at 6:15 (to finish night sleep)
Up at 8:00 a.m.
Back to sleep at 9:30 (1st nap)
Up at 10:30 a.m.
Back to sleep at 12:15 p.m. (2nd nap)
Up at 1:45 p.m.
Back to sleep at 3:30 p.m. (3rd nap)
Up at 5:00 p.m.
Back to sleep at 7:00 p.m. (bedtime)
Then up twice for feeding, around 11:00 p.m. and 4:00 a.m. (total wakefulness usually 1 hour)

That’s about 9.25 hours of awake time out of 24 hours. This means there’s 14.75 hours of sleep. At her age, the typical range is 12-15. It just seems as though as soon as she’s awake, she’s sleepy again.

It’s got me thinking. It seems that the challenge, for me, is accepting this little person’s needs over my preferences. In other words, my work is caring for her. This means slowing down. Maybe I won’t need to hold her for 30 minutes for each nap “forever” — she won’t need me that long. And what would I be doing otherwise? Reading blogs? Checking mail? Folding laundry? Why do I want so quickly to put her down so I can do these other things? (Rhetorical question.) My point here is that a lot of the tasks I feel tugging at me are not truly priorities. Even though the past four months has felt like a lifetime in many ways, she still is only four months old and not even 13 pounds. My strategy for dealing with naps will be first to get her accustomed to being put into the crib by me. That requires holding her, rocking her well into sleep, then putting her down repeatedly. Once going into the crib by Mommy is normal and routine, then perhaps I can reduce the amount of time I hold her bit by bit. At night, Husband has managed to set up a routine of rocking and holding her for 10-15 minutes, then putting her in the crib. Even if she’s awake, she’ll accept going into the crib and fall asleep. That’s my eventual goal.

Something else has got me pondering. Before I became a parent, I rarely though about excretory functions and sleep. (Well, sleep and insomnia have always been a problem for me, but I didn’t read about sleep.) Now I’ve consumed a catalogue of books and websites about how to get my child on a sleep schedule. Each book contains case histories and anecdotes about the various troubles parents have had, and I wonder: what is it about sleep that is so difficult? It’s a basic human need and function. (The same question arose for me about breast feeding.)

I mean, really, think about this. The body gets tired. It needs to sleep. You’d think it would be simple and easy to do. Yet thousands of parents can’t seem to get their children to sleep. Or rather, they can’t get their children to sleep on a schedule that allows the parents to sleep well. I asked my mother what she remembers of raising four children and getting them to sleep. Sometimes we cried a little, and she’d pat our backs and say sweet things like Nighty-night, time for sleep, I love you, and we’d fall asleep. We didn’t, apparently, cry hysterically for an hour or more. Maybe we were “easy” children, or maybe time erases the memories. Regardless, I don’t seem to have an easy child; this has been evident since birth. She’s alert and engaged. Every single time we go out in public — to the store, the library, the park — people say two things when we engage in conversation. One: She’s so small and cute! Two: She’s so alert! The fact that these two comments are made every single time I encounter someone I don’t even know, I realize just how little I do know about babies.

Well, Claire woke up at 4:30 and is complaining about being the in the swing. Perhaps I’ll bring her with me to fold laundry and entertain her by putting my underwear on my head, or something.

Bad Day for Napping

An all-around failure to nap occurred. Too brief a morning nap in the swing, then a catnap on an outing. Claire was tired. I fed her, made sure she was really ready to sleep, then went to her room and rocked her from 12:10 to 12:25. She fell asleep and I put her in the crib. One-half hour later, like clockwork, she woke crying. She cried hard for an hour (with me checking on her, soothing her), until I just decided this nap wasn’t happening.

I picked her up at 2:10; her body was heaving with sobs, and she calmed down. Then we played. Her face and eyes were puffy from sobbing and weariness, but she laughed and smiled. She began to rub her eyes and yawn again around 2:45. I gave her a bottle at 3:00, then tried again in her room. I rocked her, she fell asleep instantly, and I put her in the crib at 3:25. Thirty minutes later, she woke crying. I retrieved her after 15 minutes. I simply could not take any more crying. I soothed her. Rather than play with her, I put her in the swing, which also soothed her, and she fell into a doze. Fortunately her father came home early today (just after 5:00 p.m., unheard of!) and provided distraction and entertainment until bath time. She went to sleep at 7:00 for the night just as easy as pie.

She and I just haven’t got a good routine yet. I’m feeling anxious, guilty, irritable, sad.

Please, no sentences that start with Have you tried…, nor judgments passed on me. My head is full of advice from WeissbluthFerberSears and other random websites, and there’s enough self-judgment in my noggin to take care of the Second Coming and send me to hell already.

Someone Please Stop Me

Please stop me from reading news reports like this from Florida:

A medical examiner found dozens of internal and external injuries on Ariana’s body. The infant had five new fractures on her ribs and more than a dozen old fractures. There was a hematoma and a cut on her spleen. Her liver was bruised, as was her jaw.

When questioned by a Polk County sheriff’s detective the day after Ariana died, Gomez-Romero said he was angry when his daughter was born because he wanted a son, reports said.

Gomez-Romero, who lives in Winter Haven, told a detective he called his daughter an “ugly girl, a prostitute and deny [sic] she was his daughter,” a Sheriff’s Office report said.

Gomez-Romero said he picked Ariana up by her hands to carry her. He said he spanked her several times out of anger because she would not stop crying.

When a detective asked Gomez-Romero what a 4-month-old could do to warrant such severe punishment, the report said he stated, “Nothing.”

“Gomez-Romero made it clear that his anger and hostility towards his daughter was due to the fact that she was a girl and he had wanted a son,” the sheriff’s report said.

Sheriff’s detectives also interviewed Ariana’s mother, Juana Rodriguez-Perez, who said Gomez-Romero would carry Ariana by her hands into the bedroom and close the door.

Shortly after, the report said, their daughter would begin to cry.

Rodriguez-Perez told the detective when she threatened to call the police on Ariana’s father, he would threaten to leave with their 2-year-old son.

Polk Dad Charged in Baby’s Death

The baby girl died Christmas Day.

Why do I read these? It doesn’t help the victim. It doesn’t help me. Is it to feed some pathetic “better than thou” insecurity in myself? Is it a voyeuristic impulse to look at a train wreck? I suppose knowing why doesn’t do much — the only way to spare myself is to simply stop reading. The world would be better served if I donated time, money, or effort to a cause that helped abused children.

Miscellaneous Claire Thoughts

On Thursday, Claire saw her doctor. She weighed 12 pounds, 8 ounces and measured 24.5 inches long. Just 18 days prior (when she went in because she was ill) she weighed 11 pounds, 3 ounces, so she’s gaining well. The doctor pronounced her beautifully healthy. Her Zantac prescription was increased according to her weight (she’s been pulling off the bottle and arching her back during meals recently again). If her discomfort isn’t allayed in seven days, we may need to “graduate” to a different medication. When she received her vaccinations this visit, her response was much different. At the two-month visit, she screamed as though we were sawing off her limbs; it was a scream of pain and betrayal. This time, she broke into deep-chested, rhythmic sobs, the cry of hurt and disappointment. She was soothed more quickly this time. She also had a stronger reaction to the vaccines — a slightly elevated temperature, fussiness, and lots of sleeping followed for 48 hours.

Some other things I notice about Claire but don’t think I’ve written:

  • When she is tired and in the swing or stroller, she sometimes stares at her left hand (her left hand only). She holds it with the thumb closest to her, as though she were about to suck it, except the hand is about four or five inches from her face. She stares intently for minutes.
  • Other times when Claire is tired (and in the stroller or swing), she turns her head to the right and closes her eyes.
  • She has switched from sucking several fingers to sucking her thumb.
  • She also chews and sucks on plastic letters that link together (teething?).
  • Her volume of drool has increased significantly. To help Claire recognize family members whom she doesn’t see often, I dug up photos and had them laminated. This way they will survive drool and whatever folding, spindling, or mutilating little hands manage to do.

Shortly I’ll be heading out to a baby shower for a friend who is due in February. Oh, I am remiss in mentioning that last week my friend Nathania, who assisted with Claire’s birth, gave birth to a beautiful daughter, Elinor Marjorie, on January 6. Claire will have friends to play with!

Meanwhile, we continue to listen to the Music Together CD from the class. I’m pleased with it — the songs are child-friendly but also enjoyable for adults. If you ask people who know me, they’d tell you that before Claire, they rarely heard me sing. Those who grew up with me would explain why: I can’t sing on key. At least, not without music to follow along to. Well, since Claire arrived I’ve improved. I started singing along with (and later without) the Disney children’s music CDs I bought. The more I sing, the better I’m able to hit the right notes. I also make up songs all the time. The Music Together songs are adapted to fit the vocal range for children, so they are accessible to me. Claire really enjoys being sung to and danced with. I’ve reached a point where I don’t care what other people think about my tone or pitch. She enjoys it, and that’s what matters. Sometimes I display musical competence (hit the right notes and keep correct rhythm) and sometimes I don’t, but it’s a skill, and skill doesn’t develop without practice. Most of all, I want Claire to enjoy listening to and making music, and to enjoy her body by moving it. Husband wants this too (he’s definitely got musical competence and played in high school marching band).

On a non-Claire related note, yesterday I made dinner (yes, again!). I made my first-ever pot roast (it cooked to delectable tenderness and created a yummy gravy), baked potatoes, and carrots with raisin sauce. We had friends over (Claire’s Emergency Backup Parents), and they brought champagne and a colorful salad. We savored it all, and later broke out a new came (a holiday gift from my parents) — Apples to Apples. What a fun and easy game! There are child-friendly versions (Kids and Junior) as well as a expansion decks. I believe it’s going to be a new favorite.