Here in the beautiful state of Colorado an arctic cold front has been wreaking havoc. Apparently, when it is colder than Hitler's heart chambers, anyone with a pulse shrivels up into a fetal position and complains. Or drives their car to unnecessary places and causes a semi to jack-knife.... I am in the former category. Please feel free to shrivel up and commiserate.
I stink like a sailor returning from Saigon- minus the crabs.
How did I get to this point? Oh yeah, my pipes are frozen because I did not head the advice of my 83 year old grandmother-in-law to let my faucets drip.
This all started last night when I did not take advantage of my quickly freezing running water. I figured that because my pipes had not yet frozen in the colder-than-Walt-Disney's-cryogenically-frozen-body temperatures, then there was no reason to drive myself slowly insane by letting my faucets drip.... drip.... drip.... drip.... all night.
I figured I would just shower in the morning when my husband got home from work, because he is a saint and watches the baby we nanny on the weekdays in addition to our own one year old after a twelve hour physically draining shift so I can shower. And, I know what you're all thinking, "no worries! You can make it another day, just go a little nuts with the Secret." Well I had that same idea! Two days ago....
So, as you can imagine and only my husband and poor son can really attest to: I am ripe for the picking. My son's eyes well up when he nurses, and I don't think it's because he is touched by the beauty of the moment. Usually, I shower every two days because my skin is so dry that if I shower daily that it will stretch so tight that I look like I've had a face lift. This may work to my advantage when I hit my sixties but I plan on keeping that one up my sleeve for a good 35 years. Also my hair is thin and curly so if I water it every day, I end up resembling my wise-old-water-dripping-my-pipes-didn't-freeze 83 year old grandmother-in-law after she's had her hair set. Another trick I plan on saving for my sixties (or forties).
Thank Costco for bulk baby wipes.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Now I lay me down to sleep
In the last week my relationship with my son has changed significantly.
On the fifth night of sleep training, my baby went to sleep without a single whimper. I didn't coax him into bed, I didn't slip him into his crib while still asleep. I read him a story, turned off the light to nurse him, and laid him in his crib for the night. Surprisingly, he was relaxed and he just watched me contentedly while I tucked him in. I kissed him on the cheeks and turned to leave his room, but he didn't cry.
He slept until five in the morning.
And that was that.
This is a bittersweet moment for me. Before this week he could not sleep without me. Now I find it difficult to sleep without him. I find myself tossing and turning in bed, wondering how he is sleeping. I know that he is out of the woods for any SIDS risk, but I still can't help but tiptoe into his room and make sure I can still feel his sweet breath on the back of my hand.
There have been times in the year since he was born that I wished for nothing more than an empty bed and a quiet house. Now, that I have my empty bed and blissfully still house, I have a little ache in my heart. I want my baby curled up next to me laughing in his sleep. I will treasure those moments now that they are gone, and with a lump in my throat watch my baby turn into a toddler.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Crying it out.
We've decided to take our pediatrician's advice and let my son cry himself to sleep. We are using the loved and/or hated "Ferber Method."
The first night I put him to bed at 8:45 and he cried and I went back in every ten to fifteen minutes to soothe him. He cried so hard that he gagged himself repeatedly. By 1 AM I gave in and let him sleep with me. We cuddled and I treasured it. Ferber promises after a week, two weeks at the most, my son will sleep happily in his crib. This breaks my heart a little. No longer feeling his warm little body curled against mine and hearing his tiny little snore.... I can hardly bare it. Of course there are benefits to him sleeping on his own but it sure is a bitter pill to swallow.
This is night two and I feel like a pound of ground round.
I only let him get two short naps in today so that he would be good and tired by the time 8:30 rolled around. So I bathed him, read some of Shel Silverstein's "Where the Sidewalk Ends", and nursed him to sleep. Ever so gently I laid him in his crib and tucked him in. He immediately awoke and discovered my despicable betrayal and began to wail.
I kissed him, begged for his forgiveness, and then left to let him scream out his demons for awhile.
Every fifteen to twenty minutes I went back in to soothe him.
At about 10:15 he stopped crying for a few minutes and I panicked. Without the constant wail from his room I felt uneasy. So I went and listened at his door for breathing just to be sure there hadn't been a freak accident that required my immediate attention.
Outside his bedroom door, I stood and listened, holding my breath and straining my ears. Then I hear a soft thump.... and then a wail that assured me that my precious was still just fine, but rather pissed off. He had fallen asleep sitting up and then slumped over, bumping his little noggin on the side of the crib. So I gallantly swept to his rescue, Mommy in shining pajamas. Changed his diaper for good measure and a welcome distraction from the wailing. Soothed, soothed, soothed, and soothed some more. Put him in his crib. Kissed him. Then left.
30 Seconds later he started to wail. He has yet to stop. I am going to give it a few more hours and then surrender. So we can both rest up for round three.
A little joke to lighten the mood...
A string walks into a bar and asks the barkeep for a beer.
The barkeep says to the string, "sorry, we don't serve strings here."
So the string goes into the alley behind the bar and is still very thirsty so he decides to give it another try. He disguises himself by tying himself into a knot and ruffling up his ends. Then the string confidently walks back into the bar and orders a beer.
The barkeep looks the string up and down, then asks, "aren't you the string that I just kicked outta here?"
The string says, "nope I'm a frayed knot!"
The first night I put him to bed at 8:45 and he cried and I went back in every ten to fifteen minutes to soothe him. He cried so hard that he gagged himself repeatedly. By 1 AM I gave in and let him sleep with me. We cuddled and I treasured it. Ferber promises after a week, two weeks at the most, my son will sleep happily in his crib. This breaks my heart a little. No longer feeling his warm little body curled against mine and hearing his tiny little snore.... I can hardly bare it. Of course there are benefits to him sleeping on his own but it sure is a bitter pill to swallow.
This is night two and I feel like a pound of ground round.
I only let him get two short naps in today so that he would be good and tired by the time 8:30 rolled around. So I bathed him, read some of Shel Silverstein's "Where the Sidewalk Ends", and nursed him to sleep. Ever so gently I laid him in his crib and tucked him in. He immediately awoke and discovered my despicable betrayal and began to wail.
I kissed him, begged for his forgiveness, and then left to let him scream out his demons for awhile.
Every fifteen to twenty minutes I went back in to soothe him.
At about 10:15 he stopped crying for a few minutes and I panicked. Without the constant wail from his room I felt uneasy. So I went and listened at his door for breathing just to be sure there hadn't been a freak accident that required my immediate attention.
Outside his bedroom door, I stood and listened, holding my breath and straining my ears. Then I hear a soft thump.... and then a wail that assured me that my precious was still just fine, but rather pissed off. He had fallen asleep sitting up and then slumped over, bumping his little noggin on the side of the crib. So I gallantly swept to his rescue, Mommy in shining pajamas. Changed his diaper for good measure and a welcome distraction from the wailing. Soothed, soothed, soothed, and soothed some more. Put him in his crib. Kissed him. Then left.
30 Seconds later he started to wail. He has yet to stop. I am going to give it a few more hours and then surrender. So we can both rest up for round three.
A little joke to lighten the mood...
A string walks into a bar and asks the barkeep for a beer.
The barkeep says to the string, "sorry, we don't serve strings here."
So the string goes into the alley behind the bar and is still very thirsty so he decides to give it another try. He disguises himself by tying himself into a knot and ruffling up his ends. Then the string confidently walks back into the bar and orders a beer.
The barkeep looks the string up and down, then asks, "aren't you the string that I just kicked outta here?"
The string says, "nope I'm a frayed knot!"
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
The Year of Living
I have waited to post this until today because I wanted to make sure I wouldn't fail right out of the gate. So far so good.
My resolution this year has been many things over the last few weeks. This little family of mine is growing and changing so quickly that I want to make an effort to savor the year to come as much as I can.
Over the last year I have had so many assorted cute little elderly folk tell me to enjoy this time while it lasts. While my son is a baby, while my husband and I are still young, while my stepdaughter is still a child and not the dreaded teenager. So, my resolution is to try and really enjoy my life and be present.
Additional resolutions...
Buy more organic:
The fewer chemicals I am pumping into my family the better.
Cooking at home:
Hopefully this will create a quality time tradition with my family. Also I am hoping it will direct our finances that we usually throw at restaurants in a more productive direction. My husband and I got into the habit of eating out because we both worked insane schedules which gave us extra pocket money, little free time, and even less time together. So we spent the money and time eating out instead of slaving in the kitchen. Alright, now that I have my excuse out of the way... I am a Stay at Home Mom now so, while I have my rugrat pulling on my apron strings, I have no excuse to stay out of the kitchen. My husband, however, hardly has time to get a haircut let alone cook. (Even as I write this I have a friend calling with a dinner invitation that is oh so painful for me to turn down. But for the greater good I will. Damn.)
Lower my voice:
I raise my voice too much. I don't want my child's earliest memories to be of me shouting. My husband will also appreciate this resolution.
Knit some things for myself:
I am constantly giving away my handiwork, I need a couple hand knitted items for myself.
Make some family traditions of our own:
This past year has been a series of sore disappointments involving our extended family. Lots of squabble and stress that has put such a strain on our happiness. So I think we are going to focus our energy inward and really try and nurture our own little bitty family.
Return the netflix disc after we watch the dang movie.
Grow a garden.
Lose 10lbs... I had to throw that in here so I wouldn't feel so bad if I broke one of my resolutions.
I hope everyone has a wonderful year.
My resolution this year has been many things over the last few weeks. This little family of mine is growing and changing so quickly that I want to make an effort to savor the year to come as much as I can.
Over the last year I have had so many assorted cute little elderly folk tell me to enjoy this time while it lasts. While my son is a baby, while my husband and I are still young, while my stepdaughter is still a child and not the dreaded teenager. So, my resolution is to try and really enjoy my life and be present.
Additional resolutions...
Buy more organic:
The fewer chemicals I am pumping into my family the better.
Cooking at home:
Hopefully this will create a quality time tradition with my family. Also I am hoping it will direct our finances that we usually throw at restaurants in a more productive direction. My husband and I got into the habit of eating out because we both worked insane schedules which gave us extra pocket money, little free time, and even less time together. So we spent the money and time eating out instead of slaving in the kitchen. Alright, now that I have my excuse out of the way... I am a Stay at Home Mom now so, while I have my rugrat pulling on my apron strings, I have no excuse to stay out of the kitchen. My husband, however, hardly has time to get a haircut let alone cook. (Even as I write this I have a friend calling with a dinner invitation that is oh so painful for me to turn down. But for the greater good I will. Damn.)
Lower my voice:
I raise my voice too much. I don't want my child's earliest memories to be of me shouting. My husband will also appreciate this resolution.
Knit some things for myself:
I am constantly giving away my handiwork, I need a couple hand knitted items for myself.
Make some family traditions of our own:
This past year has been a series of sore disappointments involving our extended family. Lots of squabble and stress that has put such a strain on our happiness. So I think we are going to focus our energy inward and really try and nurture our own little bitty family.
Return the netflix disc after we watch the dang movie.
Grow a garden.
Lose 10lbs... I had to throw that in here so I wouldn't feel so bad if I broke one of my resolutions.
I hope everyone has a wonderful year.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Depression during pregnancy
I wrote a research paper on depression during pregnancy for an English class. This topict is something that I hold close to heart because I suffered from a severe depression while I was pregnant with my son. Depression during pregnancy is somewhat of a taboo and most of the time the mom doesn't feel like her feelings are valid while she is pregnant. I took antidepressants while I was pregnant and there is a stigma attached to taking anything that can negatively affect the fetus. But my son and I are both happy and healthy today, and managing my depression has everything to do with that. While researching antidepressant use during pregnancy I learned that untreated depression during pregnancy can lead to preterm birth and greatly increases the risk of developing postpartum depression. Recent studies have shown that postpartum depression negatively affects the infant's cognitive, emotional, and social development. The side effects of antidepressant use during pregnancy are serious but extremely rare. I am in no way an expert on this topic but my experience with antidepressants during pregnancy and postpartum has been a positive one. If you or someone you know is suffering from depression during pregnancy or otherwise please reach out to a health care professional, support and treatment are available.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
The End is Nigh.
My husband and I watched a documentary on a guy who has been preaching the end of the world for at least 25 years, which happens to be about the length of time I've been alive. I wonder if this qualifies me as living on the edge? If it does I don't feel anymore dangerous than I did yesterday, other than I tried on a new mascara without my contacts in.
Seriously though, the movie got me into a panic. I started thinking about what I have in the pantry and how long the public water supply would last. I even thought of which neighbors I would shoot if the med supply got low. As we watched the movie I sank into a mixture of depression and anxiety. If society as I know it broke down, it's not the loss of government, convenience, or fast food that I would mourn. It would probably be the loss of my sense of security. Although the more that I think about it I don't really have a sense of security to begin with. I always feel that the media at large is constantly saying the world is crumbling around us. The fact that people like Sarah Palin are trying to tell me everything is going to be ok isn't helping. I might believe her if she was trying to sell me a bumpit, but not social security.
So what if? Well, we could head for the hills and build a cabin. This idea was shot down pretty quickly by the apocalyptic documentary, the guy said we'd probably be shot by the people who already live in cabins in the mountains. So, what do we do then? He basically said to pee on your lawn and grow your own food. Really.
Besides the idea of peeing on the very ground that my food is supposed to then grow from, it made sense: If you can grow your own food and learn to live off the land you'll make it. I am somewhat confidant that if I needed to, I could feed my small family with a garden. We would probably be happier that way really.
Phew. I feel a little better. Except that I can't even keep my houseplants green. I'm a woman who wants a cactus garden just so the plants last a little longer. I'll just count on some primordial instincts kicking in when I need them most. It may involve peeing on my lawn.
Seriously though, the movie got me into a panic. I started thinking about what I have in the pantry and how long the public water supply would last. I even thought of which neighbors I would shoot if the med supply got low. As we watched the movie I sank into a mixture of depression and anxiety. If society as I know it broke down, it's not the loss of government, convenience, or fast food that I would mourn. It would probably be the loss of my sense of security. Although the more that I think about it I don't really have a sense of security to begin with. I always feel that the media at large is constantly saying the world is crumbling around us. The fact that people like Sarah Palin are trying to tell me everything is going to be ok isn't helping. I might believe her if she was trying to sell me a bumpit, but not social security.
So what if? Well, we could head for the hills and build a cabin. This idea was shot down pretty quickly by the apocalyptic documentary, the guy said we'd probably be shot by the people who already live in cabins in the mountains. So, what do we do then? He basically said to pee on your lawn and grow your own food. Really.
Besides the idea of peeing on the very ground that my food is supposed to then grow from, it made sense: If you can grow your own food and learn to live off the land you'll make it. I am somewhat confidant that if I needed to, I could feed my small family with a garden. We would probably be happier that way really.
Phew. I feel a little better. Except that I can't even keep my houseplants green. I'm a woman who wants a cactus garden just so the plants last a little longer. I'll just count on some primordial instincts kicking in when I need them most. It may involve peeing on my lawn.
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