Monday, January 29, 2007

Doc says to solid

We're back from Jackson's check up and Doc says that if he's eating in excess of 40 oz. of formula a day and still wants more, that is our cue to start up some solids. Doc recommends rice cereal as baby's first solid.

So, there will be some rice cereal consumed this afternoon. I have a box of Earth's Best Organic Whole Grain Brown Rice Cereal in the cupboard, and we will see how that goes over.

Film at 11. :)

Jack's Stats as of today, 4 months and 1 day old:
Height: 27 inches
Weight: 17 lbs., 6 oz.
Head Circumference: GINORMOUS. (I don't remember, but I have to pre-stretch out the neck hole on all his shirts and onesies to fit over his enormous melon.)

Just to jog your memory, Jack's Stats from birth:
Height: 19 inches
Weight: 6 lbs., 11 oz.
Head Circumference: Huge, like a bobblehead.

He is now in the 90th percentile for all of his stats. At birth, he was in the 50th percentile. He was in the 75th percentile at his 2 month checkup. HE'S HUGE NOW! I told you he was my little Moose!

To solid, or not to solid. That is the question.

No solids before six months is the new recommendation by the American Academy of Pediatrics. And I'm not a doctor (I don't even play one on TV) but I question them.

We've been through Jack's little growth spurts where he will have a day where he takes a bottle every 2 hours instead of every 3 to 4. But the past 24 hours...he's been insatiable! He SCREAMS in HUNGER every hour to hour and a half. This is quite inconvenient in the middle of the night, by the way. He GOBBLES up his baba like he's been starved to death in Chinese prison for the past year. This was all night Saturday night,
all day yesterday, and continues on this morning.

I have Jackson's 4 month well baby check up (I only go to chart his growth and ask questions) this afternoon. I'm going to ask about maybe starting some easy to digest solids. Maybe a smidge of avocado will help him feel fuller longer. This every hour or so nonsense is for the birds! In the event that our family doc okays this, I have some organic avocados waiting in the wings. If doc says no, I will be bringing guacamole to the Super Bowl party we're going to on Sunday. Either way, I win!

Saturday, January 27, 2007

This Is SO Not Comcastic!

Our stupid cable internet goes out basically every single day. Last month, I had to call to complain so many times the cable company actually ended up OWING ME from all the service interruption credits. We ended up setting up a client bridge network as a backup system so we can hop onto a neighbor's unsecured wireless network when ours goes down for no apparent reason.

So we decided to cancel our cable internet at home. It never works anyways! So I called Comcast three times today to try to cancel and each time I went through the appropriate prompts, my call got dumped.

I'm going to try calling them back and not pressing any prompts to see what happens. And then I'm going to switch providers for ALL of our cable services.

And that, my friends, WILL be Comcastic.

Friday, January 26, 2007

You And Your Breastfeeding Tits Aren't All That And A Bag Of Chips

Stop judging me.

You think I chose this? You think it was my first number one pick to give my baby inferior food from birth? Do you think I enjoy doing dishes and having to wash and sanitize a million parts to a thousand bottles daily? Are you judging me for not nursing my baby?

You're wrong on all counts.

I see your judgmental glares across the Attachment Parenting Group meeting. I saw your prying eyes of disbelief in the vaccination seminar Monday night.

I know who you are. I know you think you're better than me.

Let me tell you something, Little Miss Milkbags. I didn't have a choice as you do. My choice was let my baby starve to death or give him formula. So of course I gave him formula! I wasn't fortunate enough to have your plentiful breastmilk supply. As much as I tried, I never experienced a let down reflex. I'd try to get baby to nurse, but he would get so fatigued and angry from suckling so hard to get nothing. I'll have you know that I DO nurse my son, at every feeding. I hold him and cuddle him and stroke his hair and whisper to him how very much I love him. We snuggle together and he smiles and coos at me and his emotional needs are met as his nutritional needs are filled.

But this wasn't a choice, it was just what happened.

Similar to my friend who unexpectedly got pregnant on the pill, and then found out that her too-good-to-be-true boyfriend/future husband was really too good to be true. Now she embarks upon single motherhood and I applaud her. It's a hard path, but don't judge her. It wasn't a choice, it was just what happened.

We don't get to control it all. To some experiences in life, we truly are victims of circumstance and we just have to roll with it, and do the best we can with what we've got.

That's how tough ladies are made.

So stop looking at me like I am abusing my child by feeding him manufactured milk. I am doing my fucking best, okay? I'm sorry it is not up to your Stellar Standards of Perfection, but maybe you should just step off and keep your unattainable perfectness to your damn self. Because there is a whole big world out there of people just like me, who find themselves caught in a less than ideal situation and have to suck it up and make the best of it.

Motherhood as a profession is itself inherently wrought with all kinds of inconsolable Mommy Guilt. Must you lay more on me? What good purpose does that serve? Does it benefit anybody except you, who must get off in some sick way by making other people feed bad about themselves?

Screw you and your judgment of me as a Mother. You don't know me. You don't know my life, my pains, my trials, my struggles. All you know is what you see at first glance and if you want to judge me as a bad mother based on that, I don't want to have anything to do with you anyways.

So congratulations on your big, milky chest. Next time you stare me and my Dr. Brown's bottle down, I hope you become painfully engorged. And I will bounce away, in my very stylish and comfortable bra while sipping some caffeinated beverage you can't have. Suck it deep, you Judgmental Asshole.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Not gonna do it. Wouldn't be prudent at this juncture.

Tim and I attended Dr. Mayer Eisenstein's "Don't Vaccinate Before You Educate" seminar last night. We've been hemming and hawing over whether or not to give Jackson vaccinations. This is something we've been researching and pondering since I was pregnant. We've read books, researched articles, watched videos, gone to seminars, discussed it with our parent friends, talked about it with our doctors, thought about it some more, prayed about it, researched the CDC statistics...when we found this seminar, we decided that after this one last tidbit of education we would force ourselves to come to a conclusion. It's been an ongoing research project for about a year now! On one hand, there's the disease protection. And on the other hand there's...a slew of really good reasons to avoid the vaccines altogether.

Some of the reasons are just gross. Like the fact that some of the vaccines were sourced from aborted fetal tissue. Ew ew. Some of the reasons are chemical. Like the vaccines contain some chemicals that I'd rather not inject into my son. Mercury and preservatives, oh my! Some of the reasons are logical. Like, more people die from adverse reactions to the vaccinations than actually die from contracting the illness the vaccine is meant to prevent. It's a lot to consider!

There is nothing, not one single thing, that I do with respect to my son's health that I take lightly. When he was born, we researched birthing methods (decided natural was best, but we were unable to avoid a c-section), circumcision choices (we decided: his foreskin, his choice. Far be it from me to decide how he wants his body to look. We left him intact). There's really a lot to decide.

Last night in the seminar, there was a mother present who had partially vaccinated her oldest son. He is now autistic and she fully blames the vaccinations for this. I guess statistically, autism shows up in 1 in 166 children. However, in an unvaccinated population, that number is greatly reduced. Of the over 20,000 unvaccinated children in the Homefirst practice, only 3 are autistic. While this "evidence" is greatly anecdotal, it was enough to sway me. It was the one final little opinion-making push that we needed. Imagine being that mother with a high-needs child who will be impaired for the rest of his life. And now imagine thinking, believing with your whole heart that his problems are a direct result of a choice you made. I couldn't live with myself. It would hurt my heart every day to think that I did that to my baby.

We've determined that we're going to claim the Religious Exemption as allowed by the State of Illinois (a Religious Exemption is available in every state, some states also provide for a philosophical exemption). We believe that babies are created in the image of God, that we are fearfully and wonderfully made and that God's creation must not be tampered with.

So, let's review: I cloth diaper, co-sleep, baby wear, would have breastfed for an extended period if a milk supply ever came in, practice attached parenting, don't circumcise, and don't vaccinate. We buy and eat organic, compost and recycle everything we can. Even our pets eat organic pet food. Who ever would have thought that I'd end up being such a tree-hugging hippie?

Pardon me, I need to go apply some Patchouli.

Hey man, is that Freedom Rock? WELL TURN IT UP! ;)

Sunday, January 21, 2007

The Couple Date

I thought when I got married, I would be done with dating woes. I'd be done with dating pressure and stress. But enter...The Couple Date and now it starts all over again!

We had a Couple Date with another couple and their son from our Attached Parenting group tonight. We were hoping we'd all get along so we could try trading babysitting favors for each other every once in a while, so we can enjoy date nights with our spouses.

The Other Couple chose P.F. Chang's as the location for our Couple Date. Sweet, I can throw down some lettuce wraps any day! But as I showered to ready myself for our Couple Date, I started to worry...

What will I wear? (Answer: sweater, jeans, and my sparkly Sketchers. Those who know me know I love Sparkly Things.)

Should I order wine? What if they're not drinkers? (Answer: I had iced tea, would have preferred a glass of Pinot Grigio, though.)

What should Jack wear? (Answer: He wore his Ralph Lauren Polo outfit that Auntie Tracy gave him.)

Should I wear makeup? Full makeup or just barely there makeup? (Answer: Duh. Remember whose blog you're reading? Of course I wore makeup. And when I put on my face, it's like If You Give A Mouse A Cookie. If You Give Felicia Foundation, then she will ask for concealer. If you give her concealer, then she will ask for blush. If you give her blush, then she will ask for eyeshadow. If you give her eyeshadow, then she will ask for liner. You see where this is going. Full face it was.)

Should I dress up? (Answer: I opted to look put together without looking overly duded up.)

What if there's soup and Tim scoops it wrong? (Answer: We went for dumplings and lettuce wraps - potential soup crisis averted!)

WHAT IF HE SLURPS? (Answer: See above.)

Oh Lord. My mind is racing with a million worries. What if they judge me? What if we're not AP enough for them? What if they don't have a personality? What if what if what if...

And as I carefully shaved my legs (it was a date, after all) then moisturized, applied makeup and perfume I panicked. This is worse than dating when you're single!

In the end, our first ever Couple Date went really well. Dinner was awesome, and the Other Couple is really cool. And the fortune cookie I received at the end of dinner stated, "It's a good time to make new friends" so I think the fates are on my side.

The great thing about the Couple Date? You don't have any pressure to kiss anyone or put out after. It's just good food, good company, good conversation, then home. Momma like!

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Hug You While I Can

Today you are so tiny
But you're getting big so fast,
This precious time of babyhood
How I wish that it would last!

You seem to change every day
You're growing up all at once.
Yesterday you were a newborn,
Next week you'll be four months.

I hope you know how much I love you,
You're growing so fast, my little man.
Tomorrow it might not be cool to love Mommy
So let me hug you while I can.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

I have reached a pinnacle. Either of Brilliance or Laziness, perhaps both.

Jackson's gut is healed and now...wonder of wonders, he can digest the powdered version of his formula. I thought I had some Cadillac Baby with Champagne tastes, but no! His digestive issues were due to his malrotation. (Although, if it were Cadillac Baby Syndrome, I would not have been surprised because I will readily admit...I am somewhat of a Princess. It could have been genetic.)

So now we have switched him from Good Start Ready To Feed (the only thing he used to be able to digest) to Good Start powder. This is very exciting, because it saves us about $100 a month. That's enough to support Mommy's lipgloss habit. Huzzah!

I used to prepare a day's worth of bottles for him, then store them in the fridge and warm them in the bottle warmer as needed. And for a while, with the powdered stuff I was still doing this. And then it struck me. He will take a room-temperature bottle. So all I have to do is add the powder to the water at the time of feeding, shake, then feed.

And then all at once, a new world of nighttime feeding options was opened to me.

Now at bedtime, I have a Tupperware container that fits a few bottles pre-filled with water, a formula powder dispenser thingy and a shaker cap (stupid Dr. Brown's bottles with your complicated seven piece assembly system that you can't shake with the vent in or it will clog....grrrrr!). I set The Baba Center, as I call it, on my nightstand and we go to sleep.

When Jackson wakes in the middle of the night to eat, I shake up a bottle, he gobbles it up in bed, then we all drift back off to sleep. This is far better than my previous method of running to the kitchen as soon as Jackson first stirs, warming a bottle, running back to get the baby before he screams, cuddling him in the kitchen with a binky while we wait for the bottle to warm, then feeding him in the living room and trying to get him back to sleep before heading back to bed. I would estimate I'm getting maybe 2 hours more sleep a night by using The Baba Center. And I never have to leave my bed! Oh yes, this rules.

Monday, January 15, 2007

Damn the Dutchess

So there I was, minding my own beeswax, folding baby laundry and stuffing microfiber liners into Jackson's FuzziBunz. I had my mp3 player on shuffle for some background music when Fergie, of Blackeyed Peas fame, made me cry. Her song "Finally" off her recent solo release (which I downloaded to workout to, as I try to get my body "vicious, I be up in the gym just workin' on my fitness") resonated with me.

Ever since I was a baby girl I had a dream
Cinderella theme
Crazy as it seems
Always knew that deep inside that there would come that day
But I would have to wait
Make so many mistakes
I couldn't comprehend
As I watched it unfold
This classic story told I left it in the cold
Walking through an open door that led me back to you
Each one unlocking more of the truth
I finally stopped tripping on my youth
I finally got lost inside of you
I finally know that I needed to grow
And finally my mate has met its soul

Now my destiny can begin
Though we'll have our differences
Something strange and new is happening
Now my life doesn't seem so bad
It's the best that I've ever had
Give my love to him

Yes, finally. It's here, I'm here, living the life I desired for so very long. And yes, it IS the best life I've ever had. I'm so thankful.

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Teh Moose would like you all to know that he...

...parties naked!

Saturday, January 06, 2007

Happy Mommy Appreciation Day!

Let's talk about where I've been for the past week. I've been at home, sick. I've been sick for over 3 weeks now. I got over a sinus infection only to catch a cold. Which I never really recovered from and then I started feeling flu-ish. So to sum up, I have been running on no sleep, with a fever of 103 or higher for 3 weeks.

Mommy = Tired.

Last weekend we had the dogs/heelys fiasco which prevented Tim from being any real help with baby relief since he was disabled. The two weeks before that, Tim was working an absurd amount of hours in order to transition his company from its old name to the new, far more stupider than the old name, name. So I haven't had an opportunity for relief from baby care to get some rest/get well AT ALL.

Everyone feel sorry for me? Yes? Good! Let's move on.

So yesterday I called Tim at work and proclaimed that he was not to bring work home, he was to plan on "Playing Mommy" this weekend so I can sleep and try to recuperate. He says "OK, no problem!" because he thinks all I do is sit home and eat bon-bons all day.

Ha ha ha.

Lately, Jackson has been in a high-maintenance mood. He doesn't want his swing, he doesn't want his play yard, he doesn't even want to hang out in a sling or Baby Bjorn. He wants to be held or snuggled, or held sitting up. So I will show up to the train station each night at 6 pm to pick Tim up, and exclaim something along the lines of, "Oh I'm so glad you're home! I'm exhausted and starving! I haven't eaten anything but a granola bar/a yogurt/a handful of peanuts from the jar of emergency peanuts we stash in the backseat all day! I've had to pee since 2:00! I need your help with the baby so I can fold laundry/do dishes/make bottles/clean the bathroom. And the dogs haven't been out all day." He gives me this look of exasperation that says something like "What the hell? YOU WERE HOME ALL DAY, WOMAN!" And then I rock him the "Don't even go there" sidewards glance. Sometimes when he is feeling particularly squirrely, he will say "Why didn't you walk the dogs?"

Like I have time to walk dogs. The dogs can pee after I pee. Priorities, please.

So last night I took some Ny-Quil and declared it Mommy Appreciation Weekend. I did dishes, made a batch of bottles and left the menfolk to make it on their own. As if he were in on the joke, Jackson started teething yesterday.

Ha ha ha.

All through the night, when I heard Jack fussing, I'd wake Tim to take care of it.

At 6 am, I woke Tim up to give Jackson a bottle. I ended up giving him the bottle so Tim could go walk the dogs. After he was done with that, I passed the baby back off to him and went back to sleep.

All day long, basically I alerted Tim when I heard the baby fussing (Tim has yet to develop the skill of "Mommy Sleeping", that half alert/half sleep state where you're technically resting but you can still hear the baby) and I slept. I woke up every now and again to take my own temperature (now down to 101!) and some more medicine (prescription cough syrup is FUN) and eat if the spirit moved me. I also assisted with a poopy diaper (I know, I'm too nice for my own good).

Around 3:30, I got up to get a drink, another dose of medicine, and maybe something to eat. Tim says, "If you're up, can you watch him for a few minutes? I haven't had anything to eat all day except a yogurt and I'm starving!"

Huh. Imagine that! But you were home doing nothing all day!

Ha ha ha.

I am pretty sure that I will never again be asked any of the following questions by my husband again:

What DID you do all day?
When do you think you'll want to go back to work?
Why didn't you get it done?
Why didn't you walk the dogs?
Why didn't you eat anything when you were home all day?

Also, I doubt the words "My wife doesn't work" will ever cross his lips or mind again. Oh I work, baby. Some days I work more and harder than you do, and I don't get to run away and hide in an office when the poop gets too stinky.

And on the rare occasion that I show up to pick him up from the train, dressed up, rocking fully done hair and a fully made-up face, asking to be taken out to dinner, he'd best take me. Now he knows just how much effort going from spit-up covered sweats to being a dressed up Hot Mom takes.

And now, my friends, I shall go back to bed.