Other stuff about other parent things.

January 10, 2011 at 10:02 pm Leave a comment

I know what you’re thinking.  This blog has turned into one of them there mommy blogs. It’s almost like a swear word to some.  There’s eerie shadows surrounding the phrase, monsters that jump out of the letters.  The dreaded Mommy Blog.  Has that become my niche?  I wouldn’t say so.  Does most of the shit I have to talk about and write about revolve around parenting, babies, and diaper blow outs?  Pretty much.  Photo blog turned personal blog turned pregnancy blog turned Mommy Blog.  The dreaded.  Except… not.  I need to reflect just as much as the next guy does ’bout finances, relationships, or what have you.

I cannot believe my little man is nearing 10 weeks old (Wednesday!)  It blows my mind.  We have some photos on the wall that I swear were taken last weekend, however, they were taken when Cade was about 4.5 weeks old.  I cannot even keep up with the days and the nights yet they are passing me by at a speed which is unthinkable.  Most days feel the same as the day before, except maybe with an extra dose of fuss.  But we’re surviving and that is the main thing, and happy, mostly.  That sounds terrible, doesn’t it?  We are always happy.  We are so in love with our family, with our little boy (and can’t forget Lily!), it’s just that some days are hard hard hard.   There are days where I barely brush my hair or eat anything, and then it’s 4 o’clock and I look in the mirror and get freaked out.  God lady, clean that shit UP.   Cade is pretty cuddly, and by cuddly I mean Loves Being Held ALL. THE. TIME!  Don’t get me wrong, I love cuddling with that little boy so stinkin’ much.  When we’re lucky and he naps in his crib or basinette for a couple hours, I actually miss kissing that squishy little face, smelling’ that sweet baby smell, looking in those baby blues.  However, I don’t know if he’s in a habit or just gets too cozy (they say you can’t really create habits until 6 months, T or F?) but he loves to sleep in our arms, and can use his Supersonic Baby Sensory System to detect the instant we put him down in his crib or basinette – sometimes he can even sense when we are slowly lowering him to lie him down.  And then the cries come.  And if we don’t respond quick enough, the cries slowly turn into deeper, chesty cries.  Such a lovable little stinker!  So as much as I do love cuddling with him when we all decide that sleep is much needed and Cade sleeps with us, I do want to get him used to his basinette and crib, and for him to learn how to self-soothe, though I know that will come with time.

It happened way more before, but sometimes I will look at Cade with disbelief.  Did I really give birth to this child?  And if so, why does he look EXACTLY like his father?  (No offense Kyle, I think you’re stunning and all, but please?  Can he not at least have GREEN eyes so they are like momma’s?  Sigh.   I s’pose he’s got my eyes and nose, or so you say.)   It’s just really weird to me that the little 7 lbs 3 oz monkey I birthed is now 13 lbs and some ounces, and 3 inches longer, and his head is 5cm bigger.  So strange.  I’m reading Heather Armstrong’s “it sucked and then i cried: how i had a baby, a breakdown, and a much needed margarita” right now, and she states in it “For nine months I grew a human being inside my belly and then I pushed it out my vagina and now I’m feeding it with my boob. Biology is so fucking weird.”  She summed it up better than I could have.

I try to get out of the house often during the week when Kyle is at work.  It gets a little lonely at times.  I’m sure my mom gets sick of my daily phone calls.  What would I do if she worked out of the home rather than having a home daycare?  Oh. Dear. Lord. I do not want to think about the consequences of that arrangement.  Anyway, that isn’t the case and so all is well.  I’ve got a couple gal pals who are on maternity leave as well, and we will often do lunch, stroller walks at indoor walking tracks, or just hang out.  (Maternity leave has introduced me to the amazingness of the salads at Prairie Ink Restaurant in McNally Robinson, OMIGOD.)  It’s nice having people to relate to, even if we only ever talk about the frequency of our babe’s bowel movements, sleep patterns, and a variety of things that we may feel guilty about.   That’s not even that much of an exaggeration, really.  We do branch out though, I promise.

So quick update for all of youse that are keeping notes.  We’re still doing both breast feeding and formula feeding.  And based on his 2 month doctor’s appointment, he’s definitely well fed and growing like a trooper.  I nurse him until I can feel that he is not swallowing any milk anymore, and then we top him off with formula, except I like to tell him that he is getting his FormuLatte, just because I am a cool mom and cool moms say ridiculously stupid things like that.  In sing song voices, most often.  Oh, one thing about the breast feeding thing, obviously my milk never did fully come in.  Sucky.  I grieved it and now I’m okay with it, aside from the financial suckiness of buying formula, but that is a-ok because the main thing is my little dude is being fed.   I got a bit sentimental, wait, that’s not the word, and I was going to backspace BUT I NEED TO REMIND MYSELF TO BLOG ABOUT EVERYTHING BEING SENTIMENTAL AND ME BEING OBSESSIVE – so I left it in there.  Caps locks surely will help me remember.  Anyway – I got a bit, err, sad today about nursing, or the lack of I guess.  I was at this stroller fitness group (2x/week for 6 weeks, it’s actually pretty intense and I think I sprained every muscle in my leg and tore every ligament in my body today) and a couple of the women were making comments about their boobs leaking.  I thought to myself, aw, I’ve never felt that.  It made me a bit internally weepy for a couple minutes until I looked at my sleeping little angel’s pudgy cheeks and felt better.  Gosh, those baby cheeks really do have some magical healing powers to them.


And of course, have to end a post with your favourite furry friend.   Merry belated Christmas, suckers.

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Prep. Fussy Gussy Wussy Woo.

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