A Letter to Zach - Month 5

Dear Zach,
Um, a couple weeks ago (ahem) you turned 5 months old and you weighed 21lbs 13oz and were 27.5 inches long...
It seems that your growing like a weed status has tapered off a bit and now you're growing at a much more manageable pace. Although this didn't really happen until you graduated on to size 12 months in clothing.
Now that I've said that you'll start another growth spurt tomorrow and I'll eat my words.
As I'm writing this you're rolling around in your play yard while sucking your fingers which brings me to one of the most exciting monuments you accomplished last month - rolling over! It had been a while since I had forced tummy time on you one afternoon, so I decided that while we had some free time I would put you down on your belly and make you get a little much needed belly wallowing done. No sooner had I placed you on your belly did you promptly push up so your chest was actually off of the ground and then you toppled to one side and rolled over.
Like you had done this every day for the past month.
I nearly fell over.
I rolled you back over again and watched as you repeated the same exersize again - flawlessly. It was as if you had learned how to remedy you mother's nasty habit of putting you down face down - just roll over! I then got out the video camera, rolled you over so you were on your belly again, and you started bawling until I picked you up. So I basically have footage of you crying on your stomach. But I think I got some footage later in the day of you rolling over so I'll have to dig around and post that once I find it.
While your growth has slowed down a little bit that still hasn't saved us from having to upgrade to a larger means of bathing you. I've picked up a little inflatable tub that seems to be doing quite well and you seem much happier in it with the additional wiggle room. I'm also pleased that I didn't have to worry about torching our old tub in order to satisfy myself that it was sterile enough. Which as it turns out wouldn't have mattered as your dad demolished the upstairs bathroom a few weeks ago and there is nothing more than studs, sub-flooring, and a toilet in the upstairs bath. So we spend our bath time these days downstairs in our new fancy bathroom that your dad and I built with our own two hands. Quite handy your parents are as it turns out.
In addition to your rolling around you have also met the milestone of grabbing your feet and occasionally shoving them in your mouth. Which is just about the cutest thing I've ever seen.
Although just about everything you do is the cutest thing ever.
This is how it works. I am your mother - therefore everything you do is adorable to me.
Except for tantrums. But I have yet to deal with that yet.
As it turns out, this whole foot-grabbing trick of yours is one of the handiest things ever because you are endlessly amused by your feet. I can put you down and the second you get cranky I'll just hand you a foot and you'll be totally distracted. Many times I have been able to put you down to take care of something in the other room and I'll hear you crowing and babbling at your toes. It's like you have this little audience cheering you on - you never feel lonely anymore.
All the love and kisses possible,
Mama

A Letter to Zach - Month 4

Dear Zach,
Um...like a week ago? you turned 4 months old and you weighed 20lbs 1oz, and were 28 inches long.
This may be a short letter as my ability to sit down in front of the computer for extended periods of time has been reduced dramatically. Although, when I think about it, it's more out of choice that my time spent in front of the computer has been reduced, rather than something that has been forced upon me.
This can be explained in two parts: 1) a fantastic new development that you have achieved (YOU NOW TAKE NAPS ALONE), (yes, alone), (as in alone, alone), (like, you don't have to have a living, breathing person pressed against you, alone), (seriously), (couldn't be happier), and 2) we were out of town for your 4 month birthday and therefore I am behind schedule as it is and rather than try to crank out a regular letter and put me even further behind I am going to make this short.
And to any normal person reading this the question might arise: "what does taking naps alone have to do with why this blog is going to be short?". Well, this can be explained like so: now that I no longer have a little cute baby shaped tumor attached to me I can now get more things done around the house. So when said baby shaped tumor is napping I can do things like move crap out of the formally-known-as-the-office-and-now-referred-to-as-the-nursery, or seal the grout to the bathroom floor. Which means less time in front of the computer.
And to the same normal person reading this blog the thought might arise "it would appear that this blog is going to be no shorter than usual at the rate it's going, given that I have been reading for how long? and so far there is not as much depth as there is just a bunch of explaining."
Not to insinuate I ever have much depth to my blogging.
But I will admit that I have a tendency to, shall we say...ramble?
(Notice how I am now rambling about rambling.)
Um.
Well, I'm supposing we should get back to this here post.
Your 3rd month proved to be a bit more on the trying side. Not to say that it was difficult, but we did some learning and there were a few times where I wanted to lock myself in the closet with a bottle of wine and my iPod.
And it was really just one week, near the end of your 3rd month, that was difficult.
It was the week where I got a stomach bug, then you got a head cold, and then we wrapped things up nicely with a growth spurt.
There were a few moments in there where I wondered where my sweet calm adorable baby was and why was this alien with this sudden opinion of his own in my house? You went from being easy going and laid back about pretty much everything to only wanting to eat and sleep. Sounds easy enough...only you went even further and only wanted to nurse in bed - on a certain side of the bed. Imagine my consternation when your father suggested that perhaps you were fussing because you wanted to be nursed on your side of the bed (instead of where I was nursing you - in the middle) and when I humored him and moved you over you shut up. I damn near fell out of bed - the only reason I didn't was due to the fear of moving even in the slightest might disturb your happily nursing (and falling asleep) - something I was desperate to avoid at the time.
But we made it through that week - albeit with a few more bed sores than we went into it with - and now you're bigger, I'm wiser, and we're both getting along just fine again.
In addition to growing a little bit you also picked up a few more tricks during that week. You suck on just about anything you can get your hands on. But mostly you suck on your fingers. In fact, you'll be interested in pulling something to your mouth and then when you get that object to your mouth it's as if you're just discovering your hands all over again and you get all excited, drop the item you were deftly trying to maneuver into you mouth, and start sucking on your fingers.WOO HOO fingers!
The drool is an interesting side effect. It gets everywhere, and I'm busy trying to remember to put a bib on you whenever I can so you don't soak your clothes constantly. But you seem happy as ever, drool or no drool.
And I'm just happy to see you developing right on plan - drool and all.
Another fantastic trick is your talking. You are one little chatter box these days. Mostly only to me though. In public you are more concerned with people watching and observing your surroundings. But at home you are busy busy busy. You've got so much to say and you love it when we have our little conversations. I love talking to you, and I'm learning so many new words and nuances and fluctuations to your voice - it's making giving you what you need/want just a little bit easier. I make a point to talk to you just about every opportunity I've got. I've become quite good at narrating everything I do. Which, to an outsider, has got to be amusing - especially when wandering the aisles of the grocery store discussing at great depth our agenda for the rest of the day.
We wrapped up the last week of your 3rd month in Virginia with Michele and John. This was a very exciting time for me because not only was it our first plane trip together, but it was also the first time you met Michele. The plane ride went off with only one hitch - the airline (VIRGIN AMERICA) lost our seat reservation and put us in the very last row that DID NOT RECLINE. At first I was quite irritated, but the seats are pretty comfortable on their own, and the proximity to the galley proved to be quite useful as I could jump up and down as needed with you. I tried nursing you at take-off to help keep you calm and reduce discomfort with your ears, but the moment the engines flared up and the cabin started to rattle you leapt up in my arms and stared at me with a look of pure fear. It was incredibly endearing and I couldn't help but smile as I rocked you and told you everything was ok. You settled back down and for the next hour you flirted with the gay flight attendant over my shoulder. I finally stuck you in the baby carrier and bounced you in the galley to get you to sleep - and you slept peacefully the rest of the flight.
Thank God.
Now if only I could say the return flight was as easy and successful. But that is a story for a whole post in itself - not something I'm going to get into here.
And that just about wraps it up. It only took me a week of taking snippets of time here and there to get this thing cranked out. But there we go - so is the life of the mother of a busy now 4 month old!
All the love and kisses possible,
Mama

If you know what's good for you...

Drop everything and go out and buy the FURminator right now.
A long time ago I was standing in line at Petco when I was intrigued by the video of the FURminator they had playing near the check stands. At the time, while impressed by the device as shown on the video, I was not as impressed by the $39.99 price tag and I promptly checked out with the bag of kittie food and only the bag of kittie food. Sure I like the idea of a shedding tool that would rid my house of the baby Bartleby's rolling all over the place. And sure I'd love to not have to look at my curtains every morning, as the morning sun shines through them, and be reminded that I need to brush them.
Yes.
Brush my curtains.
And then there's the copious amounts of fur left on our furniture, the same fur that during certain times of the year leaves my husband looking red and puffy as though he just had a crying jag while watching Beaches over a pint of Chunky Monkey.
But there's the skeptic in me that knows better than to believe every little video I see while standing in line at the pet store. And I'd be pissed to spend $40 on something that did no better than the cheaper brushes I have taking up space at home.
So what changed my mind?
I was reading Dooce and she mentioned having gotten the tool recently and loving it. Which reminded me of having seen it before. So I did a little internet research and found that there was in fact a whole ton of people who also liked the tool.
And it comes with a money back guarantee - so what the hell.
I went by Petco today, picked one up, and grabbed the feline for what had to have been one of the messiest brushings ever.
And I have to admit I was impressed with the first brush stroke when I lifted the brush to see a wad of fur that looked like the product of a mauling. And then I brushed again and again and again and kept coming back with more fluffs of fur balls.
Bartleby on the other hand wasn't quite sure what to think of it. Mostly I think he was confused that I was touching him given his demotion in the family food chain since we brought Zach home. But once he got over that he seemed to vacillate between being super hyper excited that I was touching him and being slightly turned on.
I tried to ignore him as I was too damned excited to be pulling SO MUCH FUR from him.
Fur that would not end up in the corners of my house. Fur that would not end up smeared all over my curtains. Fur that I would not have to brush from our couch cushions before guests come over.
And I think this is well worth the $39.99 and the scratch marks all over my forearms from a crazed and aroused feline.

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream...

As I was wiping the sleep out of Zach's eyes this morning I was suddenly hit with a memory from childhood I hadn't thought of since, well, probably childhood. One of the many great things I'm finding about motherhood is that it brings back so many memories of your own from when you were little.
When I was young, I'm guessing about 5 or so, my mother used to warn me that if I didn't go to sleep the Sandman wouldn't come. In all the naiveté of a 5 year old I would dutifully obey because I didn't want the Sandman NOT to come. I had no idea who this Sandman guy was, or why it was that he made a business out of delivering sand to children while they slept, but that didn't matter. My mother would deliver the line in such a way that it made it clear to me that I surely did in fact want the man to come.
Note to self - it's all in how you deliver the line to your kid to get them to buy into whatever crap you are giving them.
So my mom would turn out the light after we said our prayers together, kiss me goodnight, and leave the room. And I would lie there trying to picture this Sandman, and he was always HUGE with a sack slung over one shoulder. He was also redheaded with a big bushy beard, and wore clothes like he was something out of J.R.R. Tolkien book. With his sack in tow he would leap in my window, nimbly sprinkle sand into each corner of my eyes, and then out the window he would disappear on to the next child's house.
Why on earth I pictured things this way is beyond me. But I look forward to sharing the same fun with Zach when he's older.
And somehow figure out how to explain to him that while the Sandman is allowed in his bedroom at night, if he actually SEES a man (other than his dad) in his room at night that he should react by kicking that man in the balls and asking questions later.
If it turns out to be the Sandman, then we'll just deal with that when the time comes.

Bathroom vs. Blogger

A miracle has happened.
Sensing that Zach was on the verge of nap time, I put him on his playmat so I could go peel an orange and top off my water in preparation for his mid afternoon nap. His mid afternoon nap typically occurs around 5pm and lasts for maybe an hour where I hang out with him on my lap. I either read or catch up on some Tivo - but the bottom line is that he naps ON me. Not near me. Not in another room. He has to be on me. This is something that became abundantly clear the day we came home from the hospital - our baby is one of those babies that needs to be in constant contact with a living breathing person in order to be content enough to sleep.
I never let it bother me because 1) it's pretty damn cuddly and nice, 2) you eventually learn how to get things done and 3) I figured he'd grow out of it at least by the time he turned 30.
And besides, my philosophy about parenting is to not make a big deal out of things. Eventually you'll either figure it out, or it will work itself out. And by getting all antsy and anxious about something only stresses your kid out and in turn they become more obnoxious and difficult to deal with.
Where was I?
Rereading my rambling...
Oh ok.
So I saw Zach was getting a little heavy in the lids so I put him down to go peel an orange and came back to this:
I'd been noticing since his 3 month growth spurt that he'd been sleeping a lot deeper, which is typical. But I was still pretty surprised when I came into the living room expecting a cuddling session and nap time and this is what I came across.
And now I don't know what to do with myself.
My internal dialog went something like this:
Ohmygod
OHMYGOD
Don't make a sound...back up out of the room quietly and maybe he'll stay that way.
Wait...but we don't want to tip toe around a sleeping baby or he'll never learn to sleep through noises.
Ok...walk casually out of the room like you meant to go in there and then turn around and leave. Like there's nothing unusual. Juuuuuuusssst checking the living room to make sure it's still there.
(in kitchen)
Ohmygod
OHMYGODHE'SASLEEP
and not on me!
I can get something done now!
(looking around)
What needs doing?
Seriously.
What needs doing??
Oh for the love of...have I been unable to do things freely for so long that I no longer have an ongoing list of things to do?
Although I suppose this also means that I am pretty damn efficient at running this house regardless of having a 17lb weight strapped to me most of the time.
This is crazy. Like KUH-razy.
(looking around more, hoping something will leap out at me)
I could clean the bathroom...
Ok, something other than cleaning the bathroom...
I could tile the other bathroom floor.
Let's not get in over our head here Mary. He COULD wake up in 5 minutes.
But what if he doesn't? What if he sleeps for an hour and we just wasted an hour standing dumbfounded in the middle of kitchen going over a list of all the things we could be doing in our head instead of actually DOING something.
When did 'I' become a 'we'?
And there it is. The first time I'm left to my own devices in three months and it only takes me 5 minutes before I've split personalities and had a fight with myself.
Ok, this is stupid. DO SOMETHING.
And then I sat down and decided to blog about it.
Because what better way to procrastinate on cleaning your bathroom than to blog. Screw you bathroom, I've got more important things to do.

A Letter to Zach - Month 3

Dear Zach,
Today you turn 3 months old and you weigh 17lbs 10oz...
This month you really seem to have graduated from being a 'newborn' to being more of a baby. You've gone from sleeping most of the time and only observing the world while you are awake to becoming an active participant in things around you during your waking hours - of which there are many more. Just a couple of weeks ago you started putting things up to your mouth, exploring textures, while learning how your hands work. Your hands seem to have a mind of their own but you're not bothered by it. Instead you take delight when they seem to do what you want, and you don't let it get to you when your too tired or too excited to manage them.
We've had quite the busy month you and I. Now that you're awake more often during the day I've found that you are more easily occupied doing certain things. Thank God. I have to be honest, when you were just home from the hospital I used to read ahead in the baby books. And like in most cases I should have followed the safe advise of never skipping ahead because it didn't take long for me to get to the part about how your newborn will go from sleeping 18-22 hours a day to sleeping only around 12-14. I remember reading that and thinking to myself that it might be quite possible that I will go insane if you are awake for that long. What the hell will I do with you? How will I fill the time? How will I do it without popping uppers?
And where am I going to find a dealer to sell me uppers? I've never had to acquire drugs before. I don't HAVE connections - I am no practiced at this sort of thing. Do drug dealers have profiles on LinkedIn? WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?
But then I resolved to just take the wait and see approach. And sure enough we've figured it out. Turns out that while you are awake more now, you are also more entertained by things because you are just one full time little learning machine. So we spend our days getting things done around the house, I do most of the "doing" and you do most of the observing. You're my little foreman which works out just fine by me. You also still love your bouncy seat most of all, but you've branched out and will spend some time on your play-mat that Grandma Carola gave you. You've found that if you kick and throw your arms and legs around sporadically then occasionally a toy moves or squeaks or rattles. And this little experiment of yours is repeatable with 100% success.
In the interest of trying to be more efficient lately I have started taking you in the shower with me. About half the time you get a bath, but the rest of the time I'll just give you a shower because this can be a lot easier and faster, especially when I've got to get a shower myself. You seem to like them, although I think you're not quite sure what to think of them yet. While clinging to my shoulder you hold very still and look around with big eyes. Meanwhile I've gotten better at juggling you and soaping you up – something that is a bit like trying to hold and pet a piglet that has been dipped in oil. I've found that if I wash myself first, and then bring you in the shower with me to get you clean this is the easiest way to go about it. Once finished I plop you in your bouncy seat in a towel and you sit there very relaxed and content while I rinse and get myself dry.
We've also been spending a lot of time outside playing in the yard. By far this is probably one of your most favorite activities. We find a nice shady spot for you, and while seated in your bouncy chair you kick and coo as I bust my ass in the hot hot sun. But that's ok because by busting my ass I am also slowly whittling away at it and those last few pounds that made themselves at home during my pregnancy with you, of which I am determined to evict by summer. AND it also means that we have beautiful flowers in our front yard to cheer us along, and hopefully divert most people's attention from the awful peeling paint on the house that we have to get around to sanding and repainting.
We took a trip down to my old company in the middle of the month - I say 'old' because while we were there I told my manager that I would not be returning. Something I always knew I'd do, but refused to say for sure until I had to actually make the decision. And I have to say that it was both one of the easiest decisions and hardest decisions I have made in a long time. Staying at home with you feels so right. Every morning I wake up and never for a second doubt that I'm not cut out for this, or wish I had a job to go to. This is what I was made to do. Raising you, watching you grow every day, is absolutely without a doubt one of the most rewarding and special privileges I could ever be given. And for your Dad and I to be able to afford for me to stay at home is a gift I will always be thankful for. But I also worked very hard to get where I was at my company and it was hard to let that go. So as I met with my manager, you perched on my lap smiling and sucking on my hand, we talked about my future and what I wanted to to. And he assured me that I would never have a problem coming back into the industry, that my network is strong and so what if I take a few years to raise my family? If I want to come back it will be there for me, I am sharp, bright, and strong. And he is right. As sad as he was to let me go, he also knew that being at home with you was the biggest priority to me.
And while we hold down the home front, your Dad is off conquering the hearing aid industry with his company. For two weeks we haven't seen much of him as there has been some exciting press around his company's product and that has done nothing but impact your dad's department to the point of near breaking. He's been working 12 hour days only to come home and work on the couch. Things are starting to calm down - not for lack of business, but rather your dad has been busy fixing all the things that broke with all the excitement and now the ship is running a bit smoother. So we're seeing a little bit more of him now and that's definitely a good thing. It's hard to not see him as much, but we know it's for a good cause as it ensures a solid financial standing for our family and enables me to stay at home with you, and it can only last so long before things go back to normal. So we take care of things at home, and greet dad with big hugs, kisses, and smiles when he gets home. And hopefully sooner rather than later his work days will shorten up a bit.
Among all the fun and wonderful things we've been up to this month, you and I have both been fighting our first cold since you were born. Fun stuff. I suffered the worst of it thankfully as you are nicely protected by antibodies I pass to you through my breast milk. But you still have suffered a few symptoms which I'm happy to say don't seem to bother you in the least. You might cough occasionally, or have a stuffy nose in the morning, but you still smile up at me as if to reassure me that it's ok, no biggie, you hardly even notice.
All the love and kisses possible,
Mama

Making lemonade

So I've been fighting this head cold for a few days now and this afternoon was probably the worst yet. Mornings and early afternoons have been totally fine - but once 3ish rolls around I start feeling the cold wear me down.
And today I got home, stuffed Zach in his bouncy seat, sunk into a kitchen chair and just grabbed my head and stared at the floor.
And no matter how you look at it, faux brick linoleum never starts looking good and we are definitely going to have to get rid of it soon. I don't care what Grandma thinks.
After contemplating the certain demise of our kitchen floor it occurred to me that what might be really good is a cup of hot soothing tea. To the pantry I dragged myself and proceeded to dig through the collection of teas.
Black, white, herbal, medicinal, fruity...what oh what should I indulge in. Finally my fingers came to rest on a box of Sore Throat Soothers tea which is my favorite for when I'm ailing...and then it occurs to me that I may have some tea guzzling limitations due to the fact that I'm breastfeeding.
Which is a total buzz kill by the way. When I was pregnant I couldn't wait to be un-pregnant so I could resume eating and drinking the way I had before. Mostly.
I knew there would be restrictions that came with breastfeeding, but I figured it wouldn't be nearly as bad as while pregnant.
And it's not even the fact that there are dietary restrictions you must be concerned with that sucks so much. It's mostly the conundrum of eating anything questionable - and not really knowing if something is safe or not. And if you dare do some research online you'll find the number of websites telling you one thing is safe equals the number of websites telling you it's unsafe and you are a sick sick woman for even considering it and your fetus/child should be taken from you.
I made the mistake of forgetting how painful it is to do this sort of research.
But do not despair - I was reminded within 5 minutes. I threw my box of tea back in the pantry, emailed my La Leche League leader, grabbed Zach and the two of us fell into bed for a nice long nap.
Babies are the BEST nap buddies EVER.
2 hours later I roused to find an email reply from Patty telling me exactly what I figured:
caffeine in moderation, and avoid peppermint and sage as it will hinder your milk supply.
But it was the last line of her email that was the most helpful: "Honey and lemon are good in almost any tea and can reduce coughs."
With that little line of inspiration I wandered outside to our lemon tree (on steroids), (the tree, not me), pulled 3 lemons off of it, squeezed some juice into hot water and drizzled tasty honey from our neighbors bees over it.
Screw the tea.
Sometimes a little simplicity is all you need when feeling under the weather.
Life threw me some lemons - so damn it, I made some tea.