I'm staying up because my pumping at work has been pretty dismal - only 12 ounces today. I usually get at least 16. Yesterday was about the same, which is a bummer. I've had to get into my freezer stash, which at this point is only about a one-day supply (about 8, 4 ounce bottles). God forbid I am ever away from him for more than a couple of hours. Anyway, I last fed the baby at 8, so I want to stay up for a least a couple of hours before pumping.
I think my supply is all wacky because he's sleeping longer at night. For a few weeks he was sleeping until 12:30, but last week he started sleeping until 2. While I welcomed the extra sleep, I think it's messing me up. It could also be that he's been on solids for about a month now? I don't know. I have a bottle of Reglan, a prescription drug that can help increase my milk supply, but when I tried taking it before, I got a really big blockage that was horrible. And I think recovering from that messed up the milk supply too, so I am hesitating to use it. Instead I am continuing to take my fenugreek and More Milk Special Blend, and to drink an incredible amount of water. I also added a fifth pumping session today at work, which I hope not to have to keep up. It helped a little but I was still short.
So, the baby has been asleep for about an hour, and I'm staying up, watching Anthony Bourdain, waiting for it to be around 10:15 so I can try pumping.
The other thing going on is, my mom started chemotherapy again this week. She had a biopsy of the liver a couple of weeks ago, and her doctor ("Dr. McRobot," who gets less and less robotic as time goes by) thinks the lesion he's been keeping his eye on is cancerous. So, hi ho, hi ho, it's off to chemo we go. Well, she goes. The rest of us hold our breath and hope, and pray for the best. My mom took the news really well, so I don't know, maybe she was expecting the news. She's been doing great, starting to walk around with a cane instead of the walker, and getting stronger. Her hair has grown in but funnily enough, her eyebrows didn't. As usual, the doctor couldn't say how long he wants her to be getting the chemotherapy, but I guess that's how it works. Until she gets better, right?
Meanwhile, my little boy is crawling, playing up a storm, interested in everything under the sun (or within his little grasp), and quite possibly the cutest, smartest 7 month old you will ever meet. He's my favorite baby, ever.
Gotta go, it's almost time to make some milk. Bye for now.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
Cleaning up...
This year, Patrick and I saved up and finally got some work done on the outside of our house. It's funny, we lived in our dumpy little house for 11 years without doing anything to it, but after having the baby, it seems that keeping our place clean, neat, and looking good is more important to us now.
We started off with new windows, and that made a huge difference. Our old vinyl windows were ugly, didn't lock (!), and weren't that great at keeping the outside noises or dust at bay. I really noticed this during the 3 a.m. feedings with Exton, when my neighbor and his Harley were roaring up and down the street. Since our plan is to one day remodel our house (possibly when the baby turns 5), and that remodel, as far as we can tell now, would take place at the back of our house, we went with replacement windows in the back, and new windows in the front.
After the windows were finished, we got the place restuccoed. My understanding of the terminology is sketchy, so don't ask me if we got a color coat only or if the stucco was actually redone. I have no idea what the difference is or if I've even just described two different processes. All I know is, it took us about two weeks to decide on the color. When we bought the house in 2000, it was grey. We painted it ourselves a boring, ugly beige color with white trim. Well, the white trim was already there, we just did the beige. We had what I liked to call "the ugliest house on the street." The new color is called "Southern Moss" (my brain always sings "southern moss" with a Neil Young accent), and it's a grayish green.
The stucco came out awesome, and combined with the new windows, my house suddenly looked about a thousand times better, even without the finishing touches (the trim). The painters wanted to wait a couple of weeks for the stucco to cure (or they needed time to fit us into their busy schedule) so we were stuck with raggedy trim for a bit longer than we wanted. When it came time for them to come finish, though, they were fast, efficient, and did a really good job. We chose white for the window and door trim and under the eaves, and a color I can't remember the name of (and I chose it!) for the fascia at the roof line. It's kind of a grayish brown that goes great with southern moss. We weren't sure about this design decision (most of the houses in our neighborhood have white up there) but we're so glad we did it. The house looks so neat and clean now.
Inspired by the clean lines, this weekend we decided to go through all the crap in the garage (Patrick has been known to tell the baby, "Some day son, this will all be yours"). It's not funny. Our garage was stuffed full of... junk. I found all sorts of stuff: audio equipment, computer parts, computer cables, my old Dell DJ, a really ugly Mikasa vase, all the handmade cards my friend Leigh sent me (some of which will be framed), random paperwork (my old box of files from before I got married, which included things like... my 1997 tax return, the receipt for the Yamaha flute I bought in 1991 for $600 [and sold in 1994 for $600], account information for my very closed checking accounts at Cal Fed and Security Pacific (very closed because those banks don't exist anymore!), insurance papers from when my dad was in a car accident in 1996, etc.) my band varsity letter, my award from the Marine Corps for "loyalty and excellence in performance" for being in the band (I would've preferred money or a scholarship but it was a cool award, presented in person by a full-on Marine), my High School diploma, my (very expired) passport, the DMV registration for Patrick's old car with a note on it from his dad, a postcard I sent to Patrick from New York while on a trip with my brother, my Crocker Bank teddy bear (Patrick made me keep it), and, oh, a whole bunch of things, most of which went into the trash after I handled them.
One thing that I decided to let go of was my acceptance letter, in 1997, to CalArts.
I didn't need to keep it, I knew it was okay to throw it away, but boy, tossing it felt... weird. I told Patrick I was going to do it, and he must not have been paying attention at first (he was doing all the really hard work of moving the large items and pulling down all the big plastic containers all this junk was shoved into) because he didn't really respond. Surprisingly, throwing it away made me really sad. I went into the garage where Patrick was wrangling a very long blue computer cable. He saw that I was crying a little, and I said, "Will you tell Ex that once upon a time his mommy was a good enough musician to have been accepted to CalArts?"
He said yes, and gave me a big hug, and then I was fine, and then we went back to work.
I mean, I don't know, it sounds a little dramatic, now, but it seemed like a big deal - and like throwing away that piece of paper was the right thing to do.
The funny thing is, I've always kind of wondered if EVERYBODY gets accepted to CalArts. I mean, I was pretty good, but my audition tape had just one good performance (a Bach sonata, I forget which one) and one crappy performance (Hindemith, which is surprising, because I love that piece and usually perform it well), and some other performance of a piece I don't even remember, and my in-person audition wasn't for the flute teacher (I met with Rachel Rudich for a pre-audition, and played for her "informally," but she wasn't there for my actual audition, for some reason), and I don't even remember what I played; maybe the Hindemith; the Bach was just too hard for a live performance, under pressure like that, back then.
I mean, I don't know, I've told people I was accepted to CalArts and most of the time they act like that's not a big deal, but since I didn't apply anywhere else, even not going there was a big deal to me.
Anyway, in related news...
I've been making up my mind about re-joining flute choir for the upcoming quarter, and I've decided that I'm not ready. My work day is too long; my commute is too far; Ex still feels too little and though he's sleeping mostly through the night, he does still wake up around 2 or 3 a.m., and sometimes I just can't go back to sleep (making me a zombie the next day). He's been hitting a lot of milestones lately and I don't want to miss any of that. I'm already away from him enough as it is.
A lot of people join flute choir with the same story: they haven't touched their flutes since high school or college, which is usually anywhere between 5 and 20 years. It's always fun to see those people improve and to watch them work hard and remember what it's like to play a million notes in a row or be (mostly) in tune with 12 other flutists. I've been out of high school for about 20 years, and I've never stopped playing for longer than a couple of weeks. I'll miss it, and I know they'll miss me, but I think staying home for another quarter is no big deal.
All this thinking about performing and playing made me have a weird dream last night (and made sleeping difficult) - I had a dream that City Garage decided to put on a musical, with a real orchestra, and I found out about it and that I hadn't been asked to be in it, and when I woke up from the dream at around 2 a.m., I felt as disappointed as I would have been if this had really happened. I know I'm giving something up - but I'm getting something too: time with my baby. That's more important to me right now.
We started off with new windows, and that made a huge difference. Our old vinyl windows were ugly, didn't lock (!), and weren't that great at keeping the outside noises or dust at bay. I really noticed this during the 3 a.m. feedings with Exton, when my neighbor and his Harley were roaring up and down the street. Since our plan is to one day remodel our house (possibly when the baby turns 5), and that remodel, as far as we can tell now, would take place at the back of our house, we went with replacement windows in the back, and new windows in the front.
After the windows were finished, we got the place restuccoed. My understanding of the terminology is sketchy, so don't ask me if we got a color coat only or if the stucco was actually redone. I have no idea what the difference is or if I've even just described two different processes. All I know is, it took us about two weeks to decide on the color. When we bought the house in 2000, it was grey. We painted it ourselves a boring, ugly beige color with white trim. Well, the white trim was already there, we just did the beige. We had what I liked to call "the ugliest house on the street." The new color is called "Southern Moss" (my brain always sings "southern moss" with a Neil Young accent), and it's a grayish green.
The stucco came out awesome, and combined with the new windows, my house suddenly looked about a thousand times better, even without the finishing touches (the trim). The painters wanted to wait a couple of weeks for the stucco to cure (or they needed time to fit us into their busy schedule) so we were stuck with raggedy trim for a bit longer than we wanted. When it came time for them to come finish, though, they were fast, efficient, and did a really good job. We chose white for the window and door trim and under the eaves, and a color I can't remember the name of (and I chose it!) for the fascia at the roof line. It's kind of a grayish brown that goes great with southern moss. We weren't sure about this design decision (most of the houses in our neighborhood have white up there) but we're so glad we did it. The house looks so neat and clean now.
Inspired by the clean lines, this weekend we decided to go through all the crap in the garage (Patrick has been known to tell the baby, "Some day son, this will all be yours"). It's not funny. Our garage was stuffed full of... junk. I found all sorts of stuff: audio equipment, computer parts, computer cables, my old Dell DJ, a really ugly Mikasa vase, all the handmade cards my friend Leigh sent me (some of which will be framed), random paperwork (my old box of files from before I got married, which included things like... my 1997 tax return, the receipt for the Yamaha flute I bought in 1991 for $600 [and sold in 1994 for $600], account information for my very closed checking accounts at Cal Fed and Security Pacific (very closed because those banks don't exist anymore!), insurance papers from when my dad was in a car accident in 1996, etc.) my band varsity letter, my award from the Marine Corps for "loyalty and excellence in performance" for being in the band (I would've preferred money or a scholarship but it was a cool award, presented in person by a full-on Marine), my High School diploma, my (very expired) passport, the DMV registration for Patrick's old car with a note on it from his dad, a postcard I sent to Patrick from New York while on a trip with my brother, my Crocker Bank teddy bear (Patrick made me keep it), and, oh, a whole bunch of things, most of which went into the trash after I handled them.
One thing that I decided to let go of was my acceptance letter, in 1997, to CalArts.
I didn't need to keep it, I knew it was okay to throw it away, but boy, tossing it felt... weird. I told Patrick I was going to do it, and he must not have been paying attention at first (he was doing all the really hard work of moving the large items and pulling down all the big plastic containers all this junk was shoved into) because he didn't really respond. Surprisingly, throwing it away made me really sad. I went into the garage where Patrick was wrangling a very long blue computer cable. He saw that I was crying a little, and I said, "Will you tell Ex that once upon a time his mommy was a good enough musician to have been accepted to CalArts?"
He said yes, and gave me a big hug, and then I was fine, and then we went back to work.
I mean, I don't know, it sounds a little dramatic, now, but it seemed like a big deal - and like throwing away that piece of paper was the right thing to do.
The funny thing is, I've always kind of wondered if EVERYBODY gets accepted to CalArts. I mean, I was pretty good, but my audition tape had just one good performance (a Bach sonata, I forget which one) and one crappy performance (Hindemith, which is surprising, because I love that piece and usually perform it well), and some other performance of a piece I don't even remember, and my in-person audition wasn't for the flute teacher (I met with Rachel Rudich for a pre-audition, and played for her "informally," but she wasn't there for my actual audition, for some reason), and I don't even remember what I played; maybe the Hindemith; the Bach was just too hard for a live performance, under pressure like that, back then.
I mean, I don't know, I've told people I was accepted to CalArts and most of the time they act like that's not a big deal, but since I didn't apply anywhere else, even not going there was a big deal to me.
Anyway, in related news...
I've been making up my mind about re-joining flute choir for the upcoming quarter, and I've decided that I'm not ready. My work day is too long; my commute is too far; Ex still feels too little and though he's sleeping mostly through the night, he does still wake up around 2 or 3 a.m., and sometimes I just can't go back to sleep (making me a zombie the next day). He's been hitting a lot of milestones lately and I don't want to miss any of that. I'm already away from him enough as it is.
A lot of people join flute choir with the same story: they haven't touched their flutes since high school or college, which is usually anywhere between 5 and 20 years. It's always fun to see those people improve and to watch them work hard and remember what it's like to play a million notes in a row or be (mostly) in tune with 12 other flutists. I've been out of high school for about 20 years, and I've never stopped playing for longer than a couple of weeks. I'll miss it, and I know they'll miss me, but I think staying home for another quarter is no big deal.
All this thinking about performing and playing made me have a weird dream last night (and made sleeping difficult) - I had a dream that City Garage decided to put on a musical, with a real orchestra, and I found out about it and that I hadn't been asked to be in it, and when I woke up from the dream at around 2 a.m., I felt as disappointed as I would have been if this had really happened. I know I'm giving something up - but I'm getting something too: time with my baby. That's more important to me right now.
Dream
I just woke up from a dream that City Garage was putting on a musical with a full-on orchestra and I wasn't asked to be in it. I woke up almost as bummed and disappointed as I would feel if this had actually happened.
Sent from my iPhone
Sent from my iPhone
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Yelp
The other day I wrote about my experience about a hair salon in my neighborhood on Yelp. I had been pretty excited to go to this place, and I went on one of the days before I returned to work, while Exton was at daycare. It was, I think, my first day out without him since he was born, and I was tired, missing him, and ready to feel pretty again.
The haircut (and color) worked out okay. The color (which was supposed to be "just" highlights) came out a little too all-over color but I liked it (it's been so long now that the top is growing back in... white). The only problem was the actual service. Here's my review on Yelp:
I thought about this for a while, and of course didn't "publish" this comment. I wondered if I should just ignore it or write back. It seemed silly, but I thought it was kind of weird that someone would use the "compliment" system to defend the salon. ("Compliments" can be printed alongside your review if you want. I do not want.) Today I wrote her back. See below.
Why would someone do that? I'm sure this person (now "blocked" from me on Yelp; I'm not stupid) is associated with the salon. I didn't write the review to "get" them - I wrote it because that woman who cut my hair could've done a better job at making me comfortable. She didn't. End of story. I hope.
The haircut (and color) worked out okay. The color (which was supposed to be "just" highlights) came out a little too all-over color but I liked it (it's been so long now that the top is growing back in... white). The only problem was the actual service. Here's my review on Yelp:
I did not want to write this review. My visit was some moths ago, and I held off on writing this because I thought I might like to go there and give them another shot.A couple of days ago I received a message on Yelp that I had gotten a "compliment" on one of my reviews. I clicked on it, and some person had written in, shocked that I had received sub par service. She was surprised, because she goes to this salon all the time and has never had the same sort of experience that I wrote about.
Because, I have to say, my cut and color was really good. But the service (by the owner, no less) was horrible. She spent the entire time she was doing my hair talking to someone else (someone from Aveda, I think, though I was never sure. I didn't feel bad about eavesdropping on their conversation as I had pretty much nothing else to do and no one to talk to). I was left alone with no explanation for quite a long time.
I realize that owners are busy people who have to conduct business when they can; however, I didn't request the owner when I made my appointment (I had had a great cut and experience there several months earlier by a young woman who no longer works there), and thought it was pretty unprofessional of her. I was very uncomfortable.
I love Aveda haircuts and products and my hair even grew out great from this cut (and the color still looks good), but I won't be going back. Times are too tough to put up with bad service, especially at the prices they charge.
Also... while I was sitting there, doing nothing, I happened to be checking out their Yelp reviews on my phone. The owner "caught" me doing that, and made a defensive comment about the "bad reviews," which I thought was weird.
I thought about this for a while, and of course didn't "publish" this comment. I wondered if I should just ignore it or write back. It seemed silly, but I thought it was kind of weird that someone would use the "compliment" system to defend the salon. ("Compliments" can be printed alongside your review if you want. I do not want.) Today I wrote her back. See below.
Hi, M***,Irene
I received your "compliment" on my review of [redacted] Salon, and want to remind you that everyone's experience is different. That day, for my appointment, my service was disappointing. Reviews are opinions, you don't have to agree with all of them.
Why would someone do that? I'm sure this person (now "blocked" from me on Yelp; I'm not stupid) is associated with the salon. I didn't write the review to "get" them - I wrote it because that woman who cut my hair could've done a better job at making me comfortable. She didn't. End of story. I hope.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Teething is happening for reals, now
For the last month and a half or so, the baby has been drooling and chewing on things. I thought this was "teething." Dude: this is so not teething.
On Friday of last week, he had his six month check up. He's doing great, gaining weight, hitting all the milestones. He continues to flirt with every nurse he meets (George Clooney, watch out!), and they continue to love it. His pediatrician checked his mouth and said only this: "Nope, no teeth!" He got shots and cried a little, but really, didn't put up any kind of fuss (in the past, they've let me hang out in the room so I could feed him immediately afterwards, but the nurse needed the room. I was a little apprehensive about leaving without feeding him, but he was fine. Patrick's work is closer to the doctor's office than home, and he works alone on Fridays, so we went there for awhile).
Saturday, we went to a beautiful wedding in Beverly Hills. My sister babysat JP, and said he was "perfect." Well, of course he was. This was an exciting moment for us - in six months, though we've gone to work and left him at daycare, we've never gone anywhere together without him. It was a fun day, but sooo hot, and you should know, being hot makes me very, very crabby. Still, the day was gorgeous, my friends were gorgeous, and the food was delicious. I pumped twice in the car, and it was no big deal.
Sunday, we visited with family in Chatsworth, and if I thought Beverly Hills was hot, well, Chatsworth was insane. But, the baby seemed fine. I slathered him with sunscreen and fed him in the car with the air conditioner on, and he got to meet my cousin's daughter's baby boy, who is a couple of months older, my aunts Josie and Esther, my uncle Jesse, and my cousins Sandra, Rachel, Sylvia, and Rudy. It was a long day, with a lot of driving, but he slept in the car during the drive and seemed fine.
On Monday, when I came home from work, Patrick was letting him play in the Pack & Play, and he seemed happy. When I picked him up, that kid was on fire. We took his temperature, and it was 101.something. I got very concerned, stripped him down to his diaper and fed him right away.
That helped matters a little but that fever, while within the "don't panic, mom" range (but just barely) freaked me out a little. I stayed up with him all night, but he was in a great mood, so it was no hardship (playing with my hot little baby or just holding him? Seriously, that's pretty much fine with me, except for the "hot" part). He slept great, and seemed okay, but since he was still hot at 4 a.m. when I got up to feed him, I decided to stay home with him and Patrick in the morning on Tuesday.
I stayed home until about 9 a.m., and at that time, his fever was down to about 99.something. I felt okay with going to work, so I left the two of them at home. At around 2 p.m., Patrick sent me a text that his temperature was normal, and the two of them were hanging out in the backyard, looking at the birds (we have a hawk! I'm calling her "Isabeau," of course).
I was glad he kicked that fever, which we were still thinking was related to him having a cold (we all have colds. Patrick is over his, mostly, but I am still, of course, coughing and blowing my nose all over the place), but I wasn't comfortable sending him so soon to daycare on Wednesday, so I stayed home with him.
The morning was nice - after Patrick went to work, we went back to sleep for about 3 hours. Have I mentioned that we've been co-sleeping with him? I love it. I love cuddling him, and the way his little hand always seems to find my collarbone or chin while he sleeps. When we have the bed to ourselves (sorry, Patrick!) we spread out a little but usually are touching somehow (sometimes his feet are on my chest!). It's really, really sweet. However, the rest of Wednesday, he was kind of miserable. He would fall asleep on my chest, but wake up crying. This kid doesn't cry like that, so it was really disturbing. I knew something was wrong but his temperature was fine, he seemed physically okay (we started solids a while ago, and this week we've been trying sweet potatoes. He likes it a lot; he's having no symptoms of an allergic reaction). I just made me sad. And tired. I fed him as much as he wanted, which was quite a lot, surprisingly, and tried to get him to sleep. He had playtime on the floor in the living room, where we worked a little on sitting up and playing with his big bucket of beads (he loves those big plastic beads! But even more, he loves the lid to the container!) and a red plastic cup Patrick gave him.
When Patrick came home, he seemed to be doing a little better, and this is when we figured out what's been going on: he's not sick, he's making teeth. And those teeth want OUT. I gave him a bath, cuddled him, and read him a story, and by 7:45 he was asleep. I, however, couldn't sleep. I got him bed with him and just tossed and turned. I felt bad that it took me so long to put two and two together. At 11 he was awake, crying again, so I did what I could do (feed him) and he went back to sleep. He seems to be back on an "every two hours" feeding schedule, but if that's what I can do to make him feel better, I'll do it.
When I left this morning, he and Patrick were snoozing away, not quite like he and I snooze away, but still, cozy. Patrick stayed home with him today, and last night got his "Sophie" giraffe, a teething ring that can go in the refrigerator, and one of those mesh feeding bags (filled frozen bananas) ready. We just didn't want to send him to daycare. I know, I know, I'm sure they know very well how to deal with a teething six-month old, and next time maybe we'll be more blase about it, but I'm telling you, since it took us so long to get a clue, I think we both feel guilty. He'll have fun with his papa today, and tomorrow with me. On Saturday we're getting up really early for a six hour drive to Santa Cruz for a family reunion, and I hope that goes okay. He'll get to meet my mother's family this time, and I hope they get to see how cheery and happy he really is.
My prediction? He'll have teeth by the time we get back on Sunday.
On Friday of last week, he had his six month check up. He's doing great, gaining weight, hitting all the milestones. He continues to flirt with every nurse he meets (George Clooney, watch out!), and they continue to love it. His pediatrician checked his mouth and said only this: "Nope, no teeth!" He got shots and cried a little, but really, didn't put up any kind of fuss (in the past, they've let me hang out in the room so I could feed him immediately afterwards, but the nurse needed the room. I was a little apprehensive about leaving without feeding him, but he was fine. Patrick's work is closer to the doctor's office than home, and he works alone on Fridays, so we went there for awhile).
Saturday, we went to a beautiful wedding in Beverly Hills. My sister babysat JP, and said he was "perfect." Well, of course he was. This was an exciting moment for us - in six months, though we've gone to work and left him at daycare, we've never gone anywhere together without him. It was a fun day, but sooo hot, and you should know, being hot makes me very, very crabby. Still, the day was gorgeous, my friends were gorgeous, and the food was delicious. I pumped twice in the car, and it was no big deal.
Sunday, we visited with family in Chatsworth, and if I thought Beverly Hills was hot, well, Chatsworth was insane. But, the baby seemed fine. I slathered him with sunscreen and fed him in the car with the air conditioner on, and he got to meet my cousin's daughter's baby boy, who is a couple of months older, my aunts Josie and Esther, my uncle Jesse, and my cousins Sandra, Rachel, Sylvia, and Rudy. It was a long day, with a lot of driving, but he slept in the car during the drive and seemed fine.
On Monday, when I came home from work, Patrick was letting him play in the Pack & Play, and he seemed happy. When I picked him up, that kid was on fire. We took his temperature, and it was 101.something. I got very concerned, stripped him down to his diaper and fed him right away.
That helped matters a little but that fever, while within the "don't panic, mom" range (but just barely) freaked me out a little. I stayed up with him all night, but he was in a great mood, so it was no hardship (playing with my hot little baby or just holding him? Seriously, that's pretty much fine with me, except for the "hot" part). He slept great, and seemed okay, but since he was still hot at 4 a.m. when I got up to feed him, I decided to stay home with him and Patrick in the morning on Tuesday.
I stayed home until about 9 a.m., and at that time, his fever was down to about 99.something. I felt okay with going to work, so I left the two of them at home. At around 2 p.m., Patrick sent me a text that his temperature was normal, and the two of them were hanging out in the backyard, looking at the birds (we have a hawk! I'm calling her "Isabeau," of course).
 |
| "Hello, mommy!" Is this the face of a kid with a fever? I ask you. |
I was glad he kicked that fever, which we were still thinking was related to him having a cold (we all have colds. Patrick is over his, mostly, but I am still, of course, coughing and blowing my nose all over the place), but I wasn't comfortable sending him so soon to daycare on Wednesday, so I stayed home with him.
The morning was nice - after Patrick went to work, we went back to sleep for about 3 hours. Have I mentioned that we've been co-sleeping with him? I love it. I love cuddling him, and the way his little hand always seems to find my collarbone or chin while he sleeps. When we have the bed to ourselves (sorry, Patrick!) we spread out a little but usually are touching somehow (sometimes his feet are on my chest!). It's really, really sweet. However, the rest of Wednesday, he was kind of miserable. He would fall asleep on my chest, but wake up crying. This kid doesn't cry like that, so it was really disturbing. I knew something was wrong but his temperature was fine, he seemed physically okay (we started solids a while ago, and this week we've been trying sweet potatoes. He likes it a lot; he's having no symptoms of an allergic reaction). I just made me sad. And tired. I fed him as much as he wanted, which was quite a lot, surprisingly, and tried to get him to sleep. He had playtime on the floor in the living room, where we worked a little on sitting up and playing with his big bucket of beads (he loves those big plastic beads! But even more, he loves the lid to the container!) and a red plastic cup Patrick gave him.
When Patrick came home, he seemed to be doing a little better, and this is when we figured out what's been going on: he's not sick, he's making teeth. And those teeth want OUT. I gave him a bath, cuddled him, and read him a story, and by 7:45 he was asleep. I, however, couldn't sleep. I got him bed with him and just tossed and turned. I felt bad that it took me so long to put two and two together. At 11 he was awake, crying again, so I did what I could do (feed him) and he went back to sleep. He seems to be back on an "every two hours" feeding schedule, but if that's what I can do to make him feel better, I'll do it.
When I left this morning, he and Patrick were snoozing away, not quite like he and I snooze away, but still, cozy. Patrick stayed home with him today, and last night got his "Sophie" giraffe, a teething ring that can go in the refrigerator, and one of those mesh feeding bags (filled frozen bananas) ready. We just didn't want to send him to daycare. I know, I know, I'm sure they know very well how to deal with a teething six-month old, and next time maybe we'll be more blase about it, but I'm telling you, since it took us so long to get a clue, I think we both feel guilty. He'll have fun with his papa today, and tomorrow with me. On Saturday we're getting up really early for a six hour drive to Santa Cruz for a family reunion, and I hope that goes okay. He'll get to meet my mother's family this time, and I hope they get to see how cheery and happy he really is.
My prediction? He'll have teeth by the time we get back on Sunday.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Woefully out of touch with my "heritage"
A friend of ours had a little baby about a month ago, and she has been observing "quarantena," a Mexican tradition I was unfamiliar with, but now kind of fascinated by (I've seen it spelled both "cuarantena" and with the qu-. I have no idea which, if either, is correct).
There were a few stories floating around (on NPR, in the NY Times) about a similar Asian tradition called "doing the month," and I'm starting to really get interested in this idea of isolating the new mom and her baby to protect them and ensure post-partum healing.
I didn't do this (I think we waited a couple of weeks to take the baby anywhere other than doctor visits after we brought him home, but I definitely went out with him, I just don't remember where) because I was unaware of this tradition (and maybe if I'd heard about this then I might've made fun of it, thinking it was "old fashioned"), but looking back, I can see how special that time was, how tired I was, how much healing I still had to do (and STILL have to do!), and how much I needed to get to know my little boy.
All that stuff happened, just not in a protected environment.
I like the idea of it.
Here's an article from Slate about post-partum traditions. And here's an article about other traditions, "cuarantena" amongst them.
As you can see, there's lots to read about!
In case some of you aren't aware, I'm Mexican. I know, I know, I skew "other," but because I don't speak Spanish (very well; or "at all," if you want to get really technical) or identify with my heritage, it's always been easy for people to think I'm from somewhere else (Tahiti!). I just wasn't raised in those traditions, and mostly, that's been OK for me. My parents brought me up just fine. We are who we are and I'm fine with that (except in the 10th grade, when my Spanish teacher - from SPAIN - sent me home from Spanish 101 with a very strange [to the ears of my family] and highly mockable accent). There are things that now, with a greater understanding of their value, I'd love to learn, but you know? I have all the time in the world. And I can share them with JP, too.
There were a few stories floating around (on NPR, in the NY Times) about a similar Asian tradition called "doing the month," and I'm starting to really get interested in this idea of isolating the new mom and her baby to protect them and ensure post-partum healing.
I didn't do this (I think we waited a couple of weeks to take the baby anywhere other than doctor visits after we brought him home, but I definitely went out with him, I just don't remember where) because I was unaware of this tradition (and maybe if I'd heard about this then I might've made fun of it, thinking it was "old fashioned"), but looking back, I can see how special that time was, how tired I was, how much healing I still had to do (and STILL have to do!), and how much I needed to get to know my little boy.
All that stuff happened, just not in a protected environment.
I like the idea of it.
Here's an article from Slate about post-partum traditions. And here's an article about other traditions, "cuarantena" amongst them.
As you can see, there's lots to read about!
In case some of you aren't aware, I'm Mexican. I know, I know, I skew "other," but because I don't speak Spanish (very well; or "at all," if you want to get really technical) or identify with my heritage, it's always been easy for people to think I'm from somewhere else (Tahiti!). I just wasn't raised in those traditions, and mostly, that's been OK for me. My parents brought me up just fine. We are who we are and I'm fine with that (except in the 10th grade, when my Spanish teacher - from SPAIN - sent me home from Spanish 101 with a very strange [to the ears of my family] and highly mockable accent). There are things that now, with a greater understanding of their value, I'd love to learn, but you know? I have all the time in the world. And I can share them with JP, too.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
The never ending adventures of a breastfeeding mother...
On Monday, I started feeling some pain in my left breast. It was sore. I remembered that over the weekend, Exton had seemed to be latching on much harder than usual. At the time I didn't really think about it much but on Monday, I realized he was probably doing this because I might have a plugged duct, and he wasn't getting as much milk as he's used to getting.
Plugged duct! Doesn't that sound like an issue you'd have in your bathroom? And not, um, your breast?
Then, while I was pumping at work, I noticed that I wasn't getting anywhere near as much milk from that breast as I normally do. This isn't the one that had the abscess; my left breast has always done twice as well as the other one. And now I'm only getting about an ounce of milk per session, which is really poor production (I usually get 3-4 ounces from the left side, and 1-2 on the right. Sometimes more on the right, never less on the left).
This comes on the heels of a conversation I had with Exton's daycare teacher, who suggested that we start sending more milk. I currently send him to daycare with five 4 ounce bottles. He almost never drinks the fifth one. But she thinks that he's still hungry (so give him the fifth bottle! But like I said, they never do). So on Thursday, I sent a couple of 5 ounce bottles, and three 4 ounce bottles. He didn't touch the fifth (4 ounce) bottle again. So I'm a little confused. He only got 2 extra ounces of milk that day. Then on Monday, Patrick tried the 5 ounce bottles and said that getting that extra ounce in him took awhile. I don't think he needs more milk. Also, the daycare thinks he's ready for solids, but I totally disagree. For one thing, I've been reading that he needs to be sitting up mostly unassisted. He's not. He's trying, he's getting there, but he's not sitting up yet. On her advice, though, I let Patrick give it a try while I was at work. He made Ex a teaspoon of rice cereal, mixed with an ounce of breastmilk, and let him taste it. He didn't seem to have any trouble swallowing (it was very, very watery) but boy he did not like the taste.
So in addition to trying to wrap my head around the idea that I now need to produce 20 ounces of milk a day (seriously, that's just not possible, not even on good days), the idea that we need to start solids is freaking me out a little.
Monday night I was still feeling sore, so when I went home, I used heat on my breast and that relieved some of the soreness. I stayed home with Patrick and Ex yesterday and continued the heat while nursing, and now I feel fine. But my supply is still low. I read this on kellymom.com:
Plugged ductand, I feel a little better about it, knowing that a decrease in production is normal, but I hate seeing a decrease. It really bothers me. It reminds me of the time period leading up to my abscess getting infected, and I hated that! I was just so miserable then.
Milk supply and pumping output from the affected breast may decrease temporarily. This is normal and extra nursing/pumping generally get things back to normal within a short time.
Occasionally a mom may express "strings" or grains of thickened milk or fatty-looking milk.
After a plugged duct or mastitis has resolved, it is common for the area to remain reddened or have a bruised feeling for a week or so afterwards.
I was emailing with a friend of mine who has a lot of experience/knowledge about breastfeeding, and she had good information for dealing with the duct. It feels so good to have people to talk to about this stuff! Being home with Exton all day yesterday really helped. I kept thanking him for "helping to make mommy feel better." The soreness was painful! Today I'm back at work, and I plan on pumping every two hours. It's harder to do; even my incredibly generous and understanding boss starts looking for me sometimes, but I need to take care of this.
I emailed Ex's pediatrician yesterday, and she confirmed that 16 ounces of breastmilk during the time he's in daycare is an adequate amount (actually, she said that I could send whatever amount of milk that I can pump easily; 16 ounces used to be easy!). She reminded me that when he starts solids, the amount of breastmilk he needs will decrease, but she also said that I could wait a couple of weeks.
I know what my issue is with solids, though, and I know why I'm dragging my feet. I'll probably write more about it when I get it figured out. I'm working it out in my head first, and I need a little time... and I want to get this production thing back to where it used to be. One issue at a time!
A note about kellymom.com: it's an awesome website put together by a lactation consultant. It has answered all my questions (and I have many). I think I visit the site daily. I feel so good about this site that today I ordered a t-shirt to support it.
If you are or you know a breastfeeding mom who doesn't already know about kellymom, please check it out. There is so much good information there, and it's a wonderful resource. Especially during those 3 a.m. feedings when you wonder if you're doing something wrong.
Song of the Day: Hello Hooray by Alice Cooper
On Patrick's advice, I downloaded a couple of albums (School's Out and Billion Dollar Babies). I haven't paid much attention yet to School's Out because I was kind of instantly sucked into Billion Dollar Babies (which is funny because I know "Billion Dollar Babies" was written about the success of "School's Out"). My favorite song right now is "Hello Hooray."
I mean, I'm not sure if this song was written ironically to go with the whole theme of the album, because you can listen to it that way, or you can just listen to it as a great song. I do love his sense of humor, and this song in particular is just so fun. "I feel so strong!"
And, the guy can sing, which I also never really thought about. He's doing his fair share of screaming, but there are moments when he sounds like a totally different person (I've been trying to confirm if that's even him singing on the song "Mary Ann" - when I first heard it I thought some Paul McCartney had somehow gotten on my iPod. I was all, HEY. HOW DID THIS PAUL MC CARTNEY GET ON MY IPOD?).
Anyway, there you go. "Hello Hooray" is the song of the day. Give it a listen.
Note: somebody told me that Alice was a conservative (and frankly, I don't really care) but according to Wikipedia, he doesn't believe in mixing rock and roll with his personal beliefs. This story (from Wikipedia) makes me so happy:
Although he originally tended to shy away from speaking publicly about his religious beliefs, Cooper has in recent years been quite vocal about his faith as a born-again Christian. He has avoided so called "celebrity Christianity" because, as Cooper states himself: "It's really easy to focus on Alice Cooper and not on Christ. I'm a rock singer. I'm nothing more than that. I'm not a philosopher. I consider myself low on the totem pole of knowledgeable Christians. So, don't look for answers from me."Having recently invoked Don Henley myself, I'm so glad to see that Alice and I are on the same page. For some reason this makes me very happy.
When asked by the British Sunday Times newspaper in 2001 how a shock-rocker could be a Christian, Cooper responded "Drinking beer is easy. Trashing your hotel room is easy. But being a Christian, that's a tough call. That's real rebellion!"
Throughout his career, Cooper's philosophy regarding politics is that politics should not be mixed with rock music. He has usually kept his political views to himself, and in 2010 said "I am extremely non-political. I go out of my way to be non-political. I'm probably the biggest moderate you know. When John Lennon and Harry Nilsson used to argue politics, I was sitting right in the middle of them, and I was the guy who was going 'I don't care.' When my parents would start talking politics, I would go in my room and put on The Rolling Stones or The Who on as long as I could to avoid politics. And I still feel that way." On occasion he has spoken out against musicians who promote or opine on politics, for example in the run-up to the 2004 presidential election, he told the Canadian Press that the then crop of rock stars campaigning for and touring on behalf of Democratic candidate John Kerry were committing "treason against rock n' roll." He also added that upon seeing the list of musicians who supported Kerry, "if I wasn't already a Bush supporter, I would have immediately switched. Linda Ronstadt? Don Henley? Geez, that's a good reason right there to vote for Bush."
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Spider-iffic. Yay.
This morning, after I got out of the shower, I sat down on the edge of the bathtub to put some lotion on my legs (this lotion: this stuff is genius good, I'm addicted to it), and I felt something on my leg. I wasn't wearing my glasses yet: I can find my legs just fine without them. I thought it was one of my own stupid errant hairs (postpartum alopecia sucks) that was tickling my leg, so I didn't think anything about it (I should've known better: this has happened to me before). But I kept feeling it, so finally I brushed it... and saw something black go flying across the bathroom.
It landed on the white shelf and I grabbed my glasses, and I saw that, of course, it was a spider.
A spider. A spider was on me. A spider was ON ME. I screeched (yeah, yeah, I screeched) something unintelligible, and I heard Patrick rushing over to the bathroom. He knocked on the door (he's so polite, but dude: I SCREECHED. You can COME IN), and then he came in. He saw the spider, then left to get something to capture it with. He came back with a little glass bowl and a piece of paper. While he was gone the little bugger moved but he found it and took it outside, declaring, "That's just a garden spider."
As far as spiders go, there's no "just" in describing them. And how's he such an expert on spiders? How did he know it wasn't a baby brown widow?
Anyway, later on, the baby was taking a nap with him, and I was doing the dishes, when I found another one in the sink. What the hell is up with all these water-loving spiders? I went to tell him, but JP was sprawled out on his chest so he couldn't get up, so.. I went to deal with it myself. I got another little glass bowl and the Babies R Us coupons we just got in the mail yesterday, and I got the sucker. I put another little glass bowl on top of the other one and left him on the counter. He's a smart spider: the ad is a picture of two babies against a bright green background, and the spider only sits on the brown parts in the photos of the babies (hair, eyeballs; nice). There was a touch and go moment when, right after I caught him, he appeared to have curled up and died, but nope, he's still kicking it in there. I'm waiting for Patrick to be able to escort him out into the yard. If he's a garden spider (IF) then that's where he belongs.
Two spiders in one day! And I think I made some kind of breakthrough here. Yeah. I think I did.
It landed on the white shelf and I grabbed my glasses, and I saw that, of course, it was a spider.
A spider. A spider was on me. A spider was ON ME. I screeched (yeah, yeah, I screeched) something unintelligible, and I heard Patrick rushing over to the bathroom. He knocked on the door (he's so polite, but dude: I SCREECHED. You can COME IN), and then he came in. He saw the spider, then left to get something to capture it with. He came back with a little glass bowl and a piece of paper. While he was gone the little bugger moved but he found it and took it outside, declaring, "That's just a garden spider."
As far as spiders go, there's no "just" in describing them. And how's he such an expert on spiders? How did he know it wasn't a baby brown widow?
Anyway, later on, the baby was taking a nap with him, and I was doing the dishes, when I found another one in the sink. What the hell is up with all these water-loving spiders? I went to tell him, but JP was sprawled out on his chest so he couldn't get up, so.. I went to deal with it myself. I got another little glass bowl and the Babies R Us coupons we just got in the mail yesterday, and I got the sucker. I put another little glass bowl on top of the other one and left him on the counter. He's a smart spider: the ad is a picture of two babies against a bright green background, and the spider only sits on the brown parts in the photos of the babies (hair, eyeballs; nice). There was a touch and go moment when, right after I caught him, he appeared to have curled up and died, but nope, he's still kicking it in there. I'm waiting for Patrick to be able to escort him out into the yard. If he's a garden spider (IF) then that's where he belongs.
Two spiders in one day! And I think I made some kind of breakthrough here. Yeah. I think I did.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
...any way the wind blows (crash!)... - Edited.
A friend on Facebook posted a video by Porkka Playboys of their cover of Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody, and it's pretty awesome. I love the drummer's tiny cymbals, and the soprano sax solo is note perfect. Thanks to them, I've had that song in my head a lot lately.
Exton likes us to sing to him, and I, for one, am willing to oblige. He was crying the other day while riding in his car seat in Patrick's car, and I successfully distracted him from whatever was upsetting him for about 30 minutes with every Neil Young song I could think of. Apparently he really likes the sound of my voice! "Old Man," "Southern Man," "Heart of Gold," and Patrick helped me out with the lyrics to "I Am a Child" were his favorites. Then we got started on the Creedence - we had a great time. Maybe lyrically, or thematically, these aren't appropriate songs to sing to a baby, but the style is exactly right. Neil's whiny voice (and my whiny voice, imitaing him) seems to be just what Ex's ear likes.
(Regarding the inappropriateness of these songs for an infant: I don't know. He hears mommy being loud and a little silly, and of course doesn't comprehend the words I'm saying. "I hear screaming and bullwhips cracking" means as much to him as "this little piggy went to the market" [which, by the way, he also loves]. One day we'll explain things to him. For now he hears music and words, I guess, as just sound. I mean, he's still learning English! For all he knows, I could be singing to him in Japanese.) -- I just spent about 20 minutes looking for a cover of "Heart of Gold" in Japanese. I know it's out there, I just need to do a longer search.
The other day I discovered that he also likes mommy's version of "Bohemian Rhapsody," so I've been singing that to him, a lot. The neighbors probably think I'm crazy. But I'm telling you, my 5 month old baby loves the way I sing all the falsetto notes. Those opening lyrics ("Mama! Just killed a man!") get his attention every time, and his eyes open up wide, and he smiles. That kid just loves listening to me sing!
He might be the only one, but I'll take it. One happy audience member is all I need.
Exton likes us to sing to him, and I, for one, am willing to oblige. He was crying the other day while riding in his car seat in Patrick's car, and I successfully distracted him from whatever was upsetting him for about 30 minutes with every Neil Young song I could think of. Apparently he really likes the sound of my voice! "Old Man," "Southern Man," "Heart of Gold," and Patrick helped me out with the lyrics to "I Am a Child" were his favorites. Then we got started on the Creedence - we had a great time. Maybe lyrically, or thematically, these aren't appropriate songs to sing to a baby, but the style is exactly right. Neil's whiny voice (and my whiny voice, imitaing him) seems to be just what Ex's ear likes.
(Regarding the inappropriateness of these songs for an infant: I don't know. He hears mommy being loud and a little silly, and of course doesn't comprehend the words I'm saying. "I hear screaming and bullwhips cracking" means as much to him as "this little piggy went to the market" [which, by the way, he also loves]. One day we'll explain things to him. For now he hears music and words, I guess, as just sound. I mean, he's still learning English! For all he knows, I could be singing to him in Japanese.) -- I just spent about 20 minutes looking for a cover of "Heart of Gold" in Japanese. I know it's out there, I just need to do a longer search.
The other day I discovered that he also likes mommy's version of "Bohemian Rhapsody," so I've been singing that to him, a lot. The neighbors probably think I'm crazy. But I'm telling you, my 5 month old baby loves the way I sing all the falsetto notes. Those opening lyrics ("Mama! Just killed a man!") get his attention every time, and his eyes open up wide, and he smiles. That kid just loves listening to me sing!
He might be the only one, but I'll take it. One happy audience member is all I need.
I'm annoyed
But it’s a long silly story and I’ll get over it.
Punchline: I got in the elevator with a co-worker a minute ago and she goes, “I think the damn cat peed in my purse.” And what do you know, the eau de cat pee has been in the office all morning! MYSTERY SOLVED!
Punchline: I got in the elevator with a co-worker a minute ago and she goes, “I think the damn cat peed in my purse.” And what do you know, the eau de cat pee has been in the office all morning! MYSTERY SOLVED!
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Snug Tuck Pillow - Success!
It's been awhile, and I realized I didn't update you on the status of my Snug-Tuck Pillow order.
It finally arrived a couple of weeks ago - about 2 weeks later than I expected, yes, but finally here. I was eventually contacted by someone at the company by email, who let me know that the fabric I had chosen was out of stock - apparently that particular fabric was very popular. Would this information have been handy to have at the time I placed my order? Well, yes. Would an email with this information have been handy after I placed my order (and not two weeks later)? Yes.
However, as that stupid guy Richard Fish used to say on that stupid show Ally McBeal: "Bygones." Why? because it's a great product.
I love the pillow. Alternative fabric that's very similar to the original fabric I wanted was chosen, it was easy to put on the bed, it works exactly like the website says it will, and the baby is safe and secure on the bed at all times. We're even getting a new king-size bed soon, and I'm positive that the Snug-Tuck pillow I ordered will fit the new bed.
As soon as the new mattress arrives, I'll take a photo. Until then, thanks Snug-Tuck Pillow! It wasn't a flawless transaction, but the product itself is perfect.
It finally arrived a couple of weeks ago - about 2 weeks later than I expected, yes, but finally here. I was eventually contacted by someone at the company by email, who let me know that the fabric I had chosen was out of stock - apparently that particular fabric was very popular. Would this information have been handy to have at the time I placed my order? Well, yes. Would an email with this information have been handy after I placed my order (and not two weeks later)? Yes.
However, as that stupid guy Richard Fish used to say on that stupid show Ally McBeal: "Bygones." Why? because it's a great product.
I love the pillow. Alternative fabric that's very similar to the original fabric I wanted was chosen, it was easy to put on the bed, it works exactly like the website says it will, and the baby is safe and secure on the bed at all times. We're even getting a new king-size bed soon, and I'm positive that the Snug-Tuck pillow I ordered will fit the new bed.
As soon as the new mattress arrives, I'll take a photo. Until then, thanks Snug-Tuck Pillow! It wasn't a flawless transaction, but the product itself is perfect.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Overheard: actual conversation
Irene: Last night I had a dream about Dave Grohl.
Patrick: Really.
Irene: I was going to have his baby. He took me around and introduced me to his band and showed me his studio. You were mad but said I could stay with you but I said no, he's going to marry me, even though he's already married.
Patrick: Damn.
Irene: Then the next day I saw him with some other woman, saying all the same things.
Patrick: What a dick.
Irene: Yeah.
Later...
Irene: But don't worry, I didn't dream about the part where I actually GOT pregnant.
Patrick: Well, sure, he's like Jesus. Immaculate conception.
Patrick: Really.
Irene: I was going to have his baby. He took me around and introduced me to his band and showed me his studio. You were mad but said I could stay with you but I said no, he's going to marry me, even though he's already married.
Patrick: Damn.
Irene: Then the next day I saw him with some other woman, saying all the same things.
Patrick: What a dick.
Irene: Yeah.
Later...
Irene: But don't worry, I didn't dream about the part where I actually GOT pregnant.
Patrick: Well, sure, he's like Jesus. Immaculate conception.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Motherlove
I take an organic supplement called "More Milk Special Blend" to help with my milk supply (my lactation consultant started me on this, as well as fenugreek [which I get from GNC]; it seems to be working), which I get from a company called Motherlove. I also use their diaper rash/thrush balm on the baby when his rash gets bad (he's all clear right now!), and today I just started using one of their products called "green salve." It's to help with itchiness and skin irritations. I want to either stop using or use less hydrocortisone cream on my itchy skin. The other day I was desperate for some relief and I used the prescription strength hydrocortisone I have (I only use the non-prescription strength occasionally). Instantly I felt better, but I also instantly felt guilty - like a lot of medications, this one apparently hasn't been studied enough for there to be conclusive evidence either way about its effect on lactating women and babies, so the package instructions and most everything on the web says not to use it. However, my eczema is screaming right now and I have it in a weird (for me) place - all over my arms. Usually it's in small places, like the inside of my elbow, or on my hands. But now I have it on my neck, my arms, and my legs, and it's driving me crazy. I'm trying to stay moisturized, too, but man, nothing was helping until I used the 2.5% hydrocortisone.
I don't want to repeat that application, though, so I contacted Motherlove to see what they had to say on the subject. The woman who helped me (my order got complicated) said that some people with eczema are helped by their green salve, so I added some to my order to give it a try. Today's the first day I'm using it. I only put it on my arms (my left arm, for some reason, is more irritated than the right) and neck. I'm wearing nice pants today and I didn't want to get it on my legs.
The ingredients are extra virgin olive oil, beeswax, comfrey, plantain, marshmallow root, and calendula. It seems to be helping, though maybe I was too generous on the left arm, because it doesn't seem to have absorbed into my skin as well as on the other arm. I also put a tiny amount on that stupid red spot I always get over my upper lip. I still have the red spots but the skin doesn't look as irritated or raised, and I'm definitely not itching anymore. On the other hand, it smells a little funky (I guess it's an olive oil smell), but I suppose I can live with it.
Tomorrow I have an appointment with my new doctor for a physical, and I intend to ask him about my skin problems, but I doubt very much he will have anything "organic" or non-medicinal to recommend. But we'll see. Maybe this stuff will clear everything up by then!
I don't want to repeat that application, though, so I contacted Motherlove to see what they had to say on the subject. The woman who helped me (my order got complicated) said that some people with eczema are helped by their green salve, so I added some to my order to give it a try. Today's the first day I'm using it. I only put it on my arms (my left arm, for some reason, is more irritated than the right) and neck. I'm wearing nice pants today and I didn't want to get it on my legs.
The ingredients are extra virgin olive oil, beeswax, comfrey, plantain, marshmallow root, and calendula. It seems to be helping, though maybe I was too generous on the left arm, because it doesn't seem to have absorbed into my skin as well as on the other arm. I also put a tiny amount on that stupid red spot I always get over my upper lip. I still have the red spots but the skin doesn't look as irritated or raised, and I'm definitely not itching anymore. On the other hand, it smells a little funky (I guess it's an olive oil smell), but I suppose I can live with it.
Tomorrow I have an appointment with my new doctor for a physical, and I intend to ask him about my skin problems, but I doubt very much he will have anything "organic" or non-medicinal to recommend. But we'll see. Maybe this stuff will clear everything up by then!
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
I love this story
Drunken Ohio Woman Accused of Spraying Deputies With Breast Milk
Read more: http://www.foxnews.com/us/2011/06/27/ohio-woman-gets-drunk-sprays-deputies-with-breast-milk/#ixzz1Qc0ST66a
Some people really know how to have a good time.
Read more: http://www.foxnews.com/us/2011/06/27/ohio-woman-gets-drunk-sprays-deputies-with-breast-milk/#ixzz1Qc0ST66a
Some people really know how to have a good time.
40 things
I feel like answering questions, so let's go!
1. Do you like bleu cheese?
Yes! I didn't like it for years, though. I'm starting to love it, and don't get to eat it often enough. Why is that, I wonder? Why would I think anybody cares?
2. Have you ever smoked?
Unfortunately, yes. I did it off and on when I was a teenager, then full-on as a young twenty-something because my boyfriend/ex-fiance did, finally quit forever when I was about 30 because instead of making me feel "cool," smoking made me feel "sick." Also, I could let it go easily enough, but Patrick was a more hardcore smoker, and I knew if I kept doing it, even a little, he would never quit. Thankfully, eventually, we both did. I did sort of like the ritual of it, and the smell of the (unlit) cigarette paper on my hands, but I don't miss it at all.
3. Do you own a gun?
Nope. I do, however, own a piccolo.
4. Favorite type of Food?
Good food, man. Good food. Not the kind of food that has a capital F, however (?).
5. Favorite type of music?
See no. 4. I played a lot of Jackson 5 for the baby this weekend, and also found myself humming Black Sabbath's "Iron Man" to him while I changed his diaper, and we listened to some Talking Heads while driving to the mall, and I practiced Mozart and Schubert on Sunday, but there's no specific "type" that is my favorite.
6. What do you think of hot dogs?
I think hot dogs are best enjoyed infrequently. And then with lots of relish and mustard. And toast my bun, please.
7. Favorite Christmas movie?
Umm. None.
8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning?
It used to be a Diet Coke (in a can ONLY) but I've given that up. Now I drink water. I know. How prison-y of me.
9. Can you do push ups?
Hell no, I can't do push ups, you crazy person.
10. What’s your favorite piece of jewelry?
My wedding ring, my Swiss Army watch, my "mom" necklace, my diamond necklace, my cheap-ass Banana Republic earrings.
11. Favorite hobby?
Fluting, reading, working on shows at City Garage.
12. Do you have ADD?
I don't think so?
13. Do you wear glasses/contacts?
Yes, have since I was just a little tiny girl with huge gigantic eyeglasses.
14. Middle name?
It was Laura, now it's my maiden name.
15. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment:
I need to finish my water, I need to refill the pillbox in my purse with acidophilous and fenugreek, I need to remember to get one of my brake lights fixed.
16. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink:
Water, Diet Coke, root beer
17. Current worry?
Not getting home before Ex gets hungry; not finding time to practice at least once more before Thursday.
18. Current hate right now?
Traffic. Jaywalkers. Kids riding their bikes without helmets on. The 3:30 a.m. arrival/departure of my neighbor on his Harley. Feeling so tired.
19. Favorite place to be?
In bed.
20. How did you bring in the new year?
I was 9 months pregnant. I think I stayed awake but I can't really recall.
21. Someplace you’d like to go?
Home.
22. Name three people who will complete this.
Eh, I never pass these on. If you want to do it yourself, let me know.
23. Do you own slippers?
I had a pair from when I was pregnant, when I for some reason grew attached to them. I wore them all through my maternity leave, and then one day I took a really good look at them, and they suddenly grossed me out so I threw them away. I haven't replaced them yet.
24. What color shirt are you wearing?
Black, with a gray tank underneath. Happy summer!
25. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets?
Who knows? I've never tried. I like my cotton sheets.
26. Can you whistle?
Nope. But I can play the flute and piccolo. Can you?
27. Where are you now?
In my head.
28. Would you be a pirate?
No...?
29. What songs do you sing in the shower?
A few examples: Elton John (Daniel, Levon, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road), David Bowie (Space Oddity, Changes, Under Pressure), Styx (Babe, Mr. Roboto, Blue Collar Man), Captain Beefheart (The Spotlight Kid, Too Much Time, When I See Mommy I Feel Like a Mummy), Beatles (Don't Let Me Down, I'm a Loser), George Harrison (My Sweet Lord), Cat Stevens (Katmandu)... and many, many more. Don't even think I know the lyrics to all these songs: I mostly make 'em up.
30. Favorite Girl’s Name?
That's hard. I like old-fashioned names like "Frances." There are others, I just can't think of any.
31. Favorite boy’s name?
Patrick, Robert, Andrew
32. What is in your pocket right now?
Nothing. Sorry, Bilbo.
33. Last thing that made you laugh?
My cute baby, who opens up his eyes in the morning, finds me staring at him, and smiles. Sweetie boy!
34. What vehicle do you drive?
A 2004 Honda Accord. It has 115,000+ miles on it, needs a new brake light, an oil change, and possibly to have its tires balanced and rotated. Definitely the tires need air.
35. Worst injury you’ve ever had?
Stupid breast abscess!!!!!!
36. Do you love where you live?
I like very much where I live. I'd like it more if it were shadier, larger, and with a remodeled bathroom.
37. How many TVs do you have in your house?
1 very large flat screen in the living room. There's a tiny TV in the garage, but I don't think it works.
38. How many computers do you have in your house?
Patrick has two laptops, a PC attached to the TV, and I have a laptop. We both have smartphones. And there's a least two computers in the garage, but I think only one is in use (Patrick's music computer).
39. If you changed your job, what would it be?
Stay at home mom for awhile, bookstore employee.
40. If you were granted three wishes, what would they be?
A college fund for the baby, yearly vacations to someplace awesome for the family, and I can't think of a third one right now.
1. Do you like bleu cheese?
Yes! I didn't like it for years, though. I'm starting to love it, and don't get to eat it often enough. Why is that, I wonder? Why would I think anybody cares?
2. Have you ever smoked?
Unfortunately, yes. I did it off and on when I was a teenager, then full-on as a young twenty-something because my boyfriend/ex-fiance did, finally quit forever when I was about 30 because instead of making me feel "cool," smoking made me feel "sick." Also, I could let it go easily enough, but Patrick was a more hardcore smoker, and I knew if I kept doing it, even a little, he would never quit. Thankfully, eventually, we both did. I did sort of like the ritual of it, and the smell of the (unlit) cigarette paper on my hands, but I don't miss it at all.
3. Do you own a gun?
Nope. I do, however, own a piccolo.
4. Favorite type of Food?
Good food, man. Good food. Not the kind of food that has a capital F, however (?).
5. Favorite type of music?
See no. 4. I played a lot of Jackson 5 for the baby this weekend, and also found myself humming Black Sabbath's "Iron Man" to him while I changed his diaper, and we listened to some Talking Heads while driving to the mall, and I practiced Mozart and Schubert on Sunday, but there's no specific "type" that is my favorite.
6. What do you think of hot dogs?
I think hot dogs are best enjoyed infrequently. And then with lots of relish and mustard. And toast my bun, please.
7. Favorite Christmas movie?
Umm. None.
8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning?
It used to be a Diet Coke (in a can ONLY) but I've given that up. Now I drink water. I know. How prison-y of me.
9. Can you do push ups?
Hell no, I can't do push ups, you crazy person.
10. What’s your favorite piece of jewelry?
My wedding ring, my Swiss Army watch, my "mom" necklace, my diamond necklace, my cheap-ass Banana Republic earrings.
11. Favorite hobby?
Fluting, reading, working on shows at City Garage.
12. Do you have ADD?
I don't think so?
13. Do you wear glasses/contacts?
Yes, have since I was just a little tiny girl with huge gigantic eyeglasses.
14. Middle name?
It was Laura, now it's my maiden name.
15. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment:
I need to finish my water, I need to refill the pillbox in my purse with acidophilous and fenugreek, I need to remember to get one of my brake lights fixed.
16. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink:
Water, Diet Coke, root beer
17. Current worry?
Not getting home before Ex gets hungry; not finding time to practice at least once more before Thursday.
18. Current hate right now?
Traffic. Jaywalkers. Kids riding their bikes without helmets on. The 3:30 a.m. arrival/departure of my neighbor on his Harley. Feeling so tired.
19. Favorite place to be?
In bed.
20. How did you bring in the new year?
I was 9 months pregnant. I think I stayed awake but I can't really recall.
21. Someplace you’d like to go?
Home.
22. Name three people who will complete this.
Eh, I never pass these on. If you want to do it yourself, let me know.
23. Do you own slippers?
I had a pair from when I was pregnant, when I for some reason grew attached to them. I wore them all through my maternity leave, and then one day I took a really good look at them, and they suddenly grossed me out so I threw them away. I haven't replaced them yet.
24. What color shirt are you wearing?
Black, with a gray tank underneath. Happy summer!
25. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets?
Who knows? I've never tried. I like my cotton sheets.
26. Can you whistle?
Nope. But I can play the flute and piccolo. Can you?
27. Where are you now?
In my head.
28. Would you be a pirate?
No...?
29. What songs do you sing in the shower?
A few examples: Elton John (Daniel, Levon, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road), David Bowie (Space Oddity, Changes, Under Pressure), Styx (Babe, Mr. Roboto, Blue Collar Man), Captain Beefheart (The Spotlight Kid, Too Much Time, When I See Mommy I Feel Like a Mummy), Beatles (Don't Let Me Down, I'm a Loser), George Harrison (My Sweet Lord), Cat Stevens (Katmandu)... and many, many more. Don't even think I know the lyrics to all these songs: I mostly make 'em up.
30. Favorite Girl’s Name?
That's hard. I like old-fashioned names like "Frances." There are others, I just can't think of any.
31. Favorite boy’s name?
Patrick, Robert, Andrew
32. What is in your pocket right now?
Nothing. Sorry, Bilbo.
33. Last thing that made you laugh?
My cute baby, who opens up his eyes in the morning, finds me staring at him, and smiles. Sweetie boy!
34. What vehicle do you drive?
A 2004 Honda Accord. It has 115,000+ miles on it, needs a new brake light, an oil change, and possibly to have its tires balanced and rotated. Definitely the tires need air.
35. Worst injury you’ve ever had?
Stupid breast abscess!!!!!!
36. Do you love where you live?
I like very much where I live. I'd like it more if it were shadier, larger, and with a remodeled bathroom.
37. How many TVs do you have in your house?
1 very large flat screen in the living room. There's a tiny TV in the garage, but I don't think it works.
38. How many computers do you have in your house?
Patrick has two laptops, a PC attached to the TV, and I have a laptop. We both have smartphones. And there's a least two computers in the garage, but I think only one is in use (Patrick's music computer).
39. If you changed your job, what would it be?
Stay at home mom for awhile, bookstore employee.
40. If you were granted three wishes, what would they be?
A college fund for the baby, yearly vacations to someplace awesome for the family, and I can't think of a third one right now.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Hormones, flutes, kingsize beds, and dream, dream, dream.
I won't bore you with details but I have been having the strangest dreams ever lately. I'm assuming it's a result of not being pregnant anymore (awkward sentence, this!), and not a sign of insanity. I had weird dreams while I was pregnant, too (example, here).
The other thing is, I'm having a major eczema attack! It's horrible! I have prescription strength cortisone cream but I am really hesitant to use it while I'm breastfeeding. It's on my arms, a new location (yay?) and oh, man! Itch, itch, itch. Pick up hairs, pick up hairs, pick up hairs. Dream, dream, dream! Somebody told me that your body doesn't go back to normal, hormone-wise, for a year, after having a baby. A year! Is that true? I don't want to have to wait a year to normalize! Anyway, in the meantime, I am moisturizing like crazy.
Cool news: this weekend we bought a king-size bed! I'm so excited. I have to buy new sheets and a comforter before it's delivered. Hopefully I'll have time on Friday. And hopefully the bed doesn't come before then.
I don't think I've mentioned it here (Facebook is sucking away all my time I used to spend blogging), but last week I was asked if I could sub for a flutist in the flute choir who can't make it to this week's concert. I haven't played my flute in six months! I worked it out with Patrick, freaked out about leaving the baby all night (I don't usually get home from Culver City on flute choir nights until about 10:15), and got out my flute and played some scales and long tones (and JP didn't cry or fuss; in fact, he went to sleep). I went to the dress rehearsal on Thursday and it went pretty well. They're playing some hard music this quarter! The rehearsal was fun - I was able to concentrate and mostly kept up. I'm playing piccolo on one piece that's gorgeous, and on another (Mozart; I forget the title, I'll have to tell you later), there's a huge section of double tonguing that I may not get in time. I hate double tonguing. Luckily my stand partner has worked it all out and she can play it. I just might let her go for it and instead count my way until the next doable part. I don't usually chicken out like that but come on, a week? Did I mention that piece is in 1? It's tough!
Yesterday I let the baby play on the floor with his blocks while I got in a good 45 minutes of practicing. It might be the only practicing I get to do, so luckily he was very happy rolling around, playing with the little piece of cardboard that was in the box the blocks came in. He's such a good baby. As long as I rememeber to count and can stay in tune with everyone, it should work out just fine for the concert. Patrick's going to bring him to see mommy play but I doubt he figures out what's going on. Still. I'm excited to be playing again.
- Last night I dreamed that I had to swim down a big canal of water. It had some power lines in it, and I was scared about having to swim past them, and then I reminded myself that if they were live, I would've been dead. I swam past them without getting electrocuted.
- Last week I dreamed that Alex, my friend from work, had stolen Tom Cruise's car, a silver BMW that was all tricked out and sporty.
- A couple of weeks ago, I dreamed that I was in a TV show starring Rob Lowe, and I played his chauffeur/wife. Rob was a weapons designer (not at all like Tony Stark) and on the run from some bad guys.
- Last night (or maybe it was the night before; no, 21 robbers did not come knocking on my door) I dreamed that I was the secretary to the President of the United States, and she and I were boarding a plane (Air Force One?), and the fact that the president of the U.S. was female was so normal that I was free to notice that she had a bad-ass black leather handbag and I was wearing a pair of killer pointy-toed pumps.
- One night on the weekend I dreamed that my teeth were all rotten and gross.
- Since having the baby, I've had the Bookstore Dream at least twice.
- When we first brought him home (i.e., before I decided that it was OK to let him sleep with us), I would have the strangest sensation, after I'd gotten up to feed him and put him back in his crib, that he was somewhere under all the blankets. More than once I woke up completely panicked that I'd squashed him, when all the time he was safe in his Moses basket.
The other thing is, I'm having a major eczema attack! It's horrible! I have prescription strength cortisone cream but I am really hesitant to use it while I'm breastfeeding. It's on my arms, a new location (yay?) and oh, man! Itch, itch, itch. Pick up hairs, pick up hairs, pick up hairs. Dream, dream, dream! Somebody told me that your body doesn't go back to normal, hormone-wise, for a year, after having a baby. A year! Is that true? I don't want to have to wait a year to normalize! Anyway, in the meantime, I am moisturizing like crazy.
Cool news: this weekend we bought a king-size bed! I'm so excited. I have to buy new sheets and a comforter before it's delivered. Hopefully I'll have time on Friday. And hopefully the bed doesn't come before then.
I don't think I've mentioned it here (Facebook is sucking away all my time I used to spend blogging), but last week I was asked if I could sub for a flutist in the flute choir who can't make it to this week's concert. I haven't played my flute in six months! I worked it out with Patrick, freaked out about leaving the baby all night (I don't usually get home from Culver City on flute choir nights until about 10:15), and got out my flute and played some scales and long tones (and JP didn't cry or fuss; in fact, he went to sleep). I went to the dress rehearsal on Thursday and it went pretty well. They're playing some hard music this quarter! The rehearsal was fun - I was able to concentrate and mostly kept up. I'm playing piccolo on one piece that's gorgeous, and on another (Mozart; I forget the title, I'll have to tell you later), there's a huge section of double tonguing that I may not get in time. I hate double tonguing. Luckily my stand partner has worked it all out and she can play it. I just might let her go for it and instead count my way until the next doable part. I don't usually chicken out like that but come on, a week? Did I mention that piece is in 1? It's tough!
Yesterday I let the baby play on the floor with his blocks while I got in a good 45 minutes of practicing. It might be the only practicing I get to do, so luckily he was very happy rolling around, playing with the little piece of cardboard that was in the box the blocks came in. He's such a good baby. As long as I rememeber to count and can stay in tune with everyone, it should work out just fine for the concert. Patrick's going to bring him to see mommy play but I doubt he figures out what's going on. Still. I'm excited to be playing again.
 |
| I think the music on the stand is flute 2 of the Schubert. If flute 2 is that hard, I shudder to think what flute 1 is like! |
Thursday, June 9, 2011
So tired!
I think I was warned that this would happen but I didn't really believe it.
I have never been so tired in my entire life.
My allergies are acting up, and my doctor said I could take ceterizine (generic for Zyrtec) in the evenings if I needed extra help (she also said it's okay to take while breastfeeding; though the manufacturer doesn't recommend it). However, she warned me that it would make me sleepy.
I'm not taking it. I'm not crazy - if I get any sleepier I'll be incapacitated. Comatose.
Example: this morning I went to pump. My work has made this really easy for me, and I'm lucky because it's been a good experience (so many people told me about their struggles with pumping at work, which leads to the horror of issues with milk production, but so far it's been fine for me). There's a little lounge adjacent to the ladies' room that I usually use, but sometimes it's not available (someone might be in there taking a nap!). When that happens, the section manager next door to my office allows me to use his conference room. The conference room is bigger than the lounge (and my cell phone works in there so I can read something) but I like going to the lounge better because his room doesn't have a sink (so I have to go wash my hands, then come all the way back...). Anyway, I was in the conference room this morning, getting all set up. Turned the pump on. A couple of minutes (maybe 1.5 minutes!) went by and I realized that I had forgotten to screw the bottles on.
I basically pumped a tiny amount of milk onto my pants.
Stupid. Luckily it dried quickly and didn't stain (don't think breastmilk doesn't stain: it totally does).
Before I had to go back to work, it was easy to get my housework done, and I could function a little better on the amount of sleep I've been getting. But now that I have to be at work at 7 and awake (not just awake! Functional!) all day, it's a lot harder. I still want to keep the house clean and get the laundry done but that stuff is less important than making sure there are enough clean bottles for the baby and that I get in some time "face jamming" with him.
During the week, I've been doing my best to drink enough water, eat enough, go to sleep as soon as the baby does... but dude. I am TIRED. And I've been having the craziest dreams, maybe because I don't get to sleep longer than 4 hours? Seriously, bizarre dreams! And there have been famous people in them - Rob Lowe, Goldie Hawn, that tall goofy guy on "How I Met Your Mother." Strangeness!
Everyone keeps asking me if the baby is sleeping through the night. Nope. He falls asleep around 8:30 p.m., and will sleep until 12:30 or 1:30. Then he wakes up to eat, but he eats just "half"... because he falls back asleep (and so do I). After that he's up again a couple of hours later... and then again, a couple of hours later. By that time it's time to get up for work.
I've been reading about sleeping through the night, though, and I'm not concerned that he doesn't. It would be nice to be able to nap during the day when I'm at work but with my pumping schedule there's no time (it would also be nice to take a walk! but again, there's no time). Anyway, I would miss waking up with him and having those moments with him to feed him.
I'm glad I have a short week: by the time it's Thursday, I'm so ready for Friday, when I get him all to myself.
I've got it all planned: we're going to sleep as much as possible. And maybe do some laundry.
I have never been so tired in my entire life.
My allergies are acting up, and my doctor said I could take ceterizine (generic for Zyrtec) in the evenings if I needed extra help (she also said it's okay to take while breastfeeding; though the manufacturer doesn't recommend it). However, she warned me that it would make me sleepy.
I'm not taking it. I'm not crazy - if I get any sleepier I'll be incapacitated. Comatose.
Example: this morning I went to pump. My work has made this really easy for me, and I'm lucky because it's been a good experience (so many people told me about their struggles with pumping at work, which leads to the horror of issues with milk production, but so far it's been fine for me). There's a little lounge adjacent to the ladies' room that I usually use, but sometimes it's not available (someone might be in there taking a nap!). When that happens, the section manager next door to my office allows me to use his conference room. The conference room is bigger than the lounge (and my cell phone works in there so I can read something) but I like going to the lounge better because his room doesn't have a sink (so I have to go wash my hands, then come all the way back...). Anyway, I was in the conference room this morning, getting all set up. Turned the pump on. A couple of minutes (maybe 1.5 minutes!) went by and I realized that I had forgotten to screw the bottles on.
I basically pumped a tiny amount of milk onto my pants.
Stupid. Luckily it dried quickly and didn't stain (don't think breastmilk doesn't stain: it totally does).
Before I had to go back to work, it was easy to get my housework done, and I could function a little better on the amount of sleep I've been getting. But now that I have to be at work at 7 and awake (not just awake! Functional!) all day, it's a lot harder. I still want to keep the house clean and get the laundry done but that stuff is less important than making sure there are enough clean bottles for the baby and that I get in some time "face jamming" with him.
During the week, I've been doing my best to drink enough water, eat enough, go to sleep as soon as the baby does... but dude. I am TIRED. And I've been having the craziest dreams, maybe because I don't get to sleep longer than 4 hours? Seriously, bizarre dreams! And there have been famous people in them - Rob Lowe, Goldie Hawn, that tall goofy guy on "How I Met Your Mother." Strangeness!
Everyone keeps asking me if the baby is sleeping through the night. Nope. He falls asleep around 8:30 p.m., and will sleep until 12:30 or 1:30. Then he wakes up to eat, but he eats just "half"... because he falls back asleep (and so do I). After that he's up again a couple of hours later... and then again, a couple of hours later. By that time it's time to get up for work.
I've been reading about sleeping through the night, though, and I'm not concerned that he doesn't. It would be nice to be able to nap during the day when I'm at work but with my pumping schedule there's no time (it would also be nice to take a walk! but again, there's no time). Anyway, I would miss waking up with him and having those moments with him to feed him.
I'm glad I have a short week: by the time it's Thursday, I'm so ready for Friday, when I get him all to myself.
I've got it all planned: we're going to sleep as much as possible. And maybe do some laundry.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Japan
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| Photo by Dana John Hill. Taken from Wikipedia. |
Last week I got out my old copy of "Hiroshima" by John Hersey and started re-reading it while the baby was taking a nap. I think when I first read the book, as a teenager, I wasn't really paying attention. It's easy to focus on the people who survived and to allow the people who didn't, to slip past unnoticed. And, I'm not always a careful reader.
There's an excellent scholarly report on the publication of Hersey's book and the New Yorker magazine (which originally published the book as an article) here. I really enjoyed reading it.
There may be a way to link the bombing of Hiroshima (and Nagasaki) thematically with the earthquake/tsunami but I'm not a good enough writer or someone who has had enough sleep recently to do it. Even with enough sleep I doubt I could do it. I'm just thinking with my fingers, here. Tap, tap, tap, on the keyboard.
Tap. Tap.
Random.
"It's like being the one guy smiling right at the camera in the photograph of the crew of the Enola Gay."
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Best quote of the day:
“Will these Democrats return their scandal-tainted Weiner money today?” asked Paul Lindsey, a spokesman for the Republican campaign committee.
Because, not to be crude or anything, but I now I kind of want some scandal-tainted Weiner money, too.
Read the article here: http://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/06/07/republicans-challenge-democrats-on-weiner-donations/?src=twr.
Question: Is there a true non-partisan committee investigating political scandal?
Because, not to be crude or anything, but I now I kind of want some scandal-tainted Weiner money, too.
Read the article here: http://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/06/07/republicans-challenge-democrats-on-weiner-donations/?src=twr.
Question: Is there a true non-partisan committee investigating political scandal?
Monday, June 6, 2011
Disgusted. I am.
That Weiner guy is a d--k! I'll just say this: you can cry all you want, genius, you're still a dumbass.
I give that marriage 6 months.
I guess not all politicians are assholes but wow it sure seems like it. This kind of attention must be what they WANT, otherwise they would do something else.
See: John Edwards, et al.
Grow up, dude(s).
I give that marriage 6 months.
I guess not all politicians are assholes but wow it sure seems like it. This kind of attention must be what they WANT, otherwise they would do something else.
See: John Edwards, et al.
- Yes, everybody has flaws.
- No, not everybody sends photos of their junk to strangers.
- (Or do they? Thank God I'm not on THAT mailing list!)
Grow up, dude(s).
I'm sleepy and my eyes are red and wet from allergies.
I’m playing catch-up (ketchup*!) with my boss's secretary regarding a change my department made while I was out on maternity leave and Oh My God does she make it complicated. I asked her if it was possible to go to makeup training and instead she gave me a copy of the PowerPoint they got at the training I missed, and is attempting to tell me the web address for logging on to the new system. She has given me about 900 different ways of accessing the website AND NOT ONE OF THEM WORKS.
I am, how do you say, FRUSTRATED.
In other news: it's a beautiful day, I have accomplished many things today at work in spite of feeling like a zombie, I treated myself to a whole foot long Subway sandwich instead of just a 6" and wow was that a satisfying meal, I was on time to work, I had a weird dream last night that my sister was going to marry an ex-boyfriend I had a long time ago (a situation I don't think she would be happy about in real life), a woman at work told me I look great for having a 4-month old baby, my Snug Fit Pillow still hasn't come nor have I received a "your Snug Tuck Pillow has shipped" email and I'm starting to get pissed (if you SAY ON YOUR WEBSITE that orders take so long, than you should HONOR THAT STATEMENT or CHANGE IT), I am a proud mama who has pumped 15 oz. of milk so far today with one more session to go (that's one extra ounce per bottle; I usually only get 3-4 oz. at a time), I quoted Queen in a comment on my own blog (see the last posting) and now I can't get that song out of my head (I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my bike!).
Today's bit of randomness: I want some roasted chicken.
*Who says this? Why do I now say it? Where did it come from? Why does it make me so happy? It's like "what's up / chickenbutt!", which some of my friends say and for some reason makes us all giddy like a room full of 9 year olds.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
An overview of my experiences with nursing bras, breast pumps, and that kind of thing.
I've been back to work for about 5 weeks now (though I was out sick last week), and I've been using my Medela Pump in Style Advanced pump for about 8 weeks (I started early to get used to it, and because the baby started daycare a couple of weeks before I came back to work). While I have no other pump experiences and thus no other pumps to compare this one to, I can say that using it has been simple and convenient. I've had a lot of success pumping milk for the baby, and so I have no complaints, really. I got the one that's a little backpack; it was the only one they had in stock when I purchased it, but it's probably the one I would've chosen anyway. I like it.
I do have a couple of suggestions for Medela (as if they're reading this!):
It would be nice if the backpack was slightly larger and could accommodate the pump parts a little better. Sometimes fitting them in requires a bit of jigsawing and planning ahead. Also, I like to bring along a small hand towel and there's really no place to put it. Medela might look into coordinating a towel of their own into the design - a small black towel, with their pretty light yellow logo in a corner? They could charge more, and I wouldn't have to figure out the towel business on my own. It could fit in one of the side pockets, maybe.
Also, the pump itself, located in the bottom portion of the backpack, is set back a little too far. There's about an inch of space that could've been utilized better by bringing the face of the pump forward a little.
And, this is unrelated to the actual pump but instead to the bottles themselves: I had the misfortune of dropping a full bottle (with a cap screwed on tightly). I knew this nightmare would occur someday, so I did not cry when almost all my hard-earned milk wound up on the kitchen floor. I was pretty pissed off that the lid stayed screwed on but actually broke - the inner portion of the lid popped out in a perfect circle. I don't sterilize my bottles all the time (I use the microwave bags about once every two weeks; since my baby wasn't premature or have health issues, very, very hot, soapy water is my preferred method of cleaning them) so I'm sure it wasn't a case of having been weakened through some kind of overexposure to heat. I ended up losing about 3 ounces of milk, and for those of you who don't know firsthand, 3 ounces is pretty much a whole feeding's worth. That stuff is valuable, and every ounce counts. If this had happened earlier in my pumping experience, I would've been inconsolable. I'm not sure if I had a defective bottle cap or what, but now I am even more careful with the bottles, even if I know the caps are screwed on tightly.
Finally - I'm not sure if mine was just not sewn properly or if I've been handling it roughly, but one of the little tags on one of the zippers came off completely yesterday. This is no big deal, I simply replaced it with a little key chain my boss brought me back from a recent trip she took to Hawaii, but I thought I should mention it.
Before I had the baby, I bought a nursing bra from one of those Motherhood stores that are in the mall, and though it was less than $20, I wish I had waited. It was ugly, uncomfortable, and didn't fit well. Cheap, so I guess I got what I paid for (I have since donated it to the Salvation Army). Afterwards, I went a little crazy and purchased 3 Medela softcup nursing bras. I really like them - they're comfortable and kind of pretty. I also bought one with an underwire that I don't like quite as much - it gives me a bit more of a va-va voom shape than I'm comfortable with. I also bought their "comfort" nursing bra, which I love but only wear at home (not to work) because it makes me look a little bit like I'm wearing a sports bra - not quite as sausage-y as sports bras usually are. I don't like how it looks as much as it feels (super comfy, nice fabric, easy to use). As an extra, I purchased the funny little camisole/bustier thing that's supposed to make the whole pumping at work business "hands-free" with the idea that my supervisor might be able to find me a private cubicle (i.e., one with a door that locks, and a PC) so that I could do some work while pumping. It was a good idea, but unfortunately it didn't pan out. I use the bustier thing only occasionally - if I have something I want to read, for instance. It's a nice product, but it didn't end up working out for me. Oh, and I also bought a sleep bra, which is really a simple, comfortable, well-designed bra, but not something I really needed. Like I said: I went a little crazy.
I found out yesterday that Medela bought the Bravado line of nursing bras, and talk about pretty! If I needed more I would get one of theirs but I really don't. Their bras cost more than the Medela bras, but I do think they're prettier. They look more like regular bras.
The baby is now 4 months old, which means I've almost made it to my goal of breastfeeding for 6 months! I'm really proud of myself for sticking it out. It hasn't been easy but I think it's definitely worth it. Once we hit the 6 month goal, I'll see how I feel about continuing. A whole year for him would be, I think, totally beneficial to his development and health, so yes, that's the next goal, but we'll just have to see how it goes. I don't want to get ahead of myself.
 |
| Note my replacement key chain! |
I do have a couple of suggestions for Medela (as if they're reading this!):
It would be nice if the backpack was slightly larger and could accommodate the pump parts a little better. Sometimes fitting them in requires a bit of jigsawing and planning ahead. Also, I like to bring along a small hand towel and there's really no place to put it. Medela might look into coordinating a towel of their own into the design - a small black towel, with their pretty light yellow logo in a corner? They could charge more, and I wouldn't have to figure out the towel business on my own. It could fit in one of the side pockets, maybe.
Also, the pump itself, located in the bottom portion of the backpack, is set back a little too far. There's about an inch of space that could've been utilized better by bringing the face of the pump forward a little.
And, this is unrelated to the actual pump but instead to the bottles themselves: I had the misfortune of dropping a full bottle (with a cap screwed on tightly). I knew this nightmare would occur someday, so I did not cry when almost all my hard-earned milk wound up on the kitchen floor. I was pretty pissed off that the lid stayed screwed on but actually broke - the inner portion of the lid popped out in a perfect circle. I don't sterilize my bottles all the time (I use the microwave bags about once every two weeks; since my baby wasn't premature or have health issues, very, very hot, soapy water is my preferred method of cleaning them) so I'm sure it wasn't a case of having been weakened through some kind of overexposure to heat. I ended up losing about 3 ounces of milk, and for those of you who don't know firsthand, 3 ounces is pretty much a whole feeding's worth. That stuff is valuable, and every ounce counts. If this had happened earlier in my pumping experience, I would've been inconsolable. I'm not sure if I had a defective bottle cap or what, but now I am even more careful with the bottles, even if I know the caps are screwed on tightly.
Finally - I'm not sure if mine was just not sewn properly or if I've been handling it roughly, but one of the little tags on one of the zippers came off completely yesterday. This is no big deal, I simply replaced it with a little key chain my boss brought me back from a recent trip she took to Hawaii, but I thought I should mention it.
Before I had the baby, I bought a nursing bra from one of those Motherhood stores that are in the mall, and though it was less than $20, I wish I had waited. It was ugly, uncomfortable, and didn't fit well. Cheap, so I guess I got what I paid for (I have since donated it to the Salvation Army). Afterwards, I went a little crazy and purchased 3 Medela softcup nursing bras. I really like them - they're comfortable and kind of pretty. I also bought one with an underwire that I don't like quite as much - it gives me a bit more of a va-va voom shape than I'm comfortable with. I also bought their "comfort" nursing bra, which I love but only wear at home (not to work) because it makes me look a little bit like I'm wearing a sports bra - not quite as sausage-y as sports bras usually are. I don't like how it looks as much as it feels (super comfy, nice fabric, easy to use). As an extra, I purchased the funny little camisole/bustier thing that's supposed to make the whole pumping at work business "hands-free" with the idea that my supervisor might be able to find me a private cubicle (i.e., one with a door that locks, and a PC) so that I could do some work while pumping. It was a good idea, but unfortunately it didn't pan out. I use the bustier thing only occasionally - if I have something I want to read, for instance. It's a nice product, but it didn't end up working out for me. Oh, and I also bought a sleep bra, which is really a simple, comfortable, well-designed bra, but not something I really needed. Like I said: I went a little crazy.
I found out yesterday that Medela bought the Bravado line of nursing bras, and talk about pretty! If I needed more I would get one of theirs but I really don't. Their bras cost more than the Medela bras, but I do think they're prettier. They look more like regular bras.
The baby is now 4 months old, which means I've almost made it to my goal of breastfeeding for 6 months! I'm really proud of myself for sticking it out. It hasn't been easy but I think it's definitely worth it. Once we hit the 6 month goal, I'll see how I feel about continuing. A whole year for him would be, I think, totally beneficial to his development and health, so yes, that's the next goal, but we'll just have to see how it goes. I don't want to get ahead of myself.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Snug Tuck Pillow = Possible Fail (Updated)
Update (Monday, May 30, 2011):
Sunday morning, early, I received an email from the lady making my pillow. She wrote to let me know that the fabric I had chosen was out of stock (this is the same thing the women in the forum I read had to say as well, but I'm just telling you that it's the same story, I'm not drawing any conclusions. Really. I'm not) but that it would be in on Tuesday; would I like her to wait, or go ahead with another, similar fabric? I wrote back (because I was up with the baby and had my phone handy) that she could wait until Tuesday, and if the fabric I requested was available, please use that, and if not, go ahead with the other. So. We wait and see. I'm sort of holding my breath here. I really want my pillow!
Original post (Saturday, May 28, 2011):
Dammit! I got all excited and ordered this seemingly totally rad solution to our co-sleeping situation... and the darn thing is MIA. I ordered it on the 12th, and the website says it should ship 8-12 business days after your order is placed.
It's been just about that, and here I thought I was being patient, when really, it appears that most people wait a lot longer, and I probably will too. I found some people online with not a lot of good things to say about the Snug Tuck Pillow People Customer Service Experience. Apparently the company has a hard time keeping up with demand. Other than the initial confirmation of my order, I haven't heard from them, and there has been nothing to indicate that there's a problem.
I'll keep waiting, I guess, but I was pretty excited about trying this out. Now I'm starting to wonder. The thing was not cheap, either.
Sunday morning, early, I received an email from the lady making my pillow. She wrote to let me know that the fabric I had chosen was out of stock (this is the same thing the women in the forum I read had to say as well, but I'm just telling you that it's the same story, I'm not drawing any conclusions. Really. I'm not) but that it would be in on Tuesday; would I like her to wait, or go ahead with another, similar fabric? I wrote back (because I was up with the baby and had my phone handy) that she could wait until Tuesday, and if the fabric I requested was available, please use that, and if not, go ahead with the other. So. We wait and see. I'm sort of holding my breath here. I really want my pillow!
Original post (Saturday, May 28, 2011):
Dammit! I got all excited and ordered this seemingly totally rad solution to our co-sleeping situation... and the darn thing is MIA. I ordered it on the 12th, and the website says it should ship 8-12 business days after your order is placed.
It's been just about that, and here I thought I was being patient, when really, it appears that most people wait a lot longer, and I probably will too. I found some people online with not a lot of good things to say about the Snug Tuck Pillow People Customer Service Experience. Apparently the company has a hard time keeping up with demand. Other than the initial confirmation of my order, I haven't heard from them, and there has been nothing to indicate that there's a problem.
I'll keep waiting, I guess, but I was pretty excited about trying this out. Now I'm starting to wonder. The thing was not cheap, either.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
SoundCloud
I've joined SoundCloud!
Yeah, don't get all excited, I only have one thing to upload (and I still haven't done it yet, maybe later), and I don't expect to have any more. However! All the elements or planets or whatever aligned themselves perfectly and I have one performance, of which I am very proud, to share with you.
Later, yes, later.
I can't remember if I talked about it at the time and I'm too lazy to find out, but in December, when I was 32 weeks pregnant, I performed in a little workshop/recital at West Hollywood Presbyterian Church. I had worked on and performed La flute de Pan by Jules Moquet before and I wanted a second crack at it, so Patty, my flute teacher, allowed me to do it again. She doesn't usually let students do that, but I'm just going to come right out and say it: I am no ordinary student. If you are currently a student of Patty's and you're wondering why Irene gets special treatment, well, I'll tell you: I get special treatment because I'm special! Deal with it. And did I mention I was 32 weeks pregnant? Learning something brand new from scratch wasn't going to happen. I had been fooling around with the Moquet at home by myself, and it was easy enough to put together. It's a beautiful piece and I love playing it... so I did it again (only the first movement, "Pan et les bergers" - "les bergers" means "shepherds"), and I'm so glad.
The winter workshop/recital was full of lots of great performances, and Patty's students (mostly kids, but a few of us adults; as one of the adults, and one of the most advanced players, I went last. I've had the honor of going last for several years now) all played really well. I was also in a couple of ensembles (one of them, the Hallelujah Chorus, with me on bass, was kind of a train wreck, and it was totally my fault, but we won't talk about that now), but I was a little nervous about my solo, as usual, and, as you read on, as was to be expected.
I don't have a good track record when it comes to being prepared in advance. I think I've told you before that I love to play, but I'm often not very motivated to practice (though it's funny: once I get started [this is pre-baby] I can sometimes do it for hours. Or sometimes not. I don't have a lot of discipline. I wish I did, of course I'd be a much better musician, but I don't). My history, when it comes to recitals, is to "learn" my piece, oh, pretty much the week before. Of course I'll have worked on it before then, and I know where the hard parts are, but full-on mastery doesn't come until they very last minute, and as you probably know, "full-on mastery" doesn't respond well to last minute preparation. But, that's the way I do it, knowing very well that it makes for miserable lessons and a tear-filled dress rehearsal. Apparently I'm a glutton for this kind of punishment. I will also never change.
There is sometimes quite a bit of cursing at these rehearsals. In between the tears.
Anyway, yes, I did all that this time. But please remember that I was also 32 weeks pregnant. I was big. I was having serious breathing problems, and it seemed like the only "easy" solution was to push the tempo. I have no idea what the ideal tempo for this movement is; maybe I should've found that out ahead of time. Pushing the tempo meant then that my fingers (and brain) had to keep up so that my stupid lungs wouldn't explode. And Moquet (or can I call him "Jules"?) didn't really help me out. Properly prepared, the phrasing probably would be fine for another, non-pregnant flutist, but I was not that flutist. So there was that to listen to, my weird breaking of phrases, and it was annoying, and it was worrisome, and then it was my turn to play, which is why I'm writing this long-ass entry in the first place.
I know that I will play my flute again. I know that I will perform again. I know that the baby and I may get to play duets when he's old enough and that I will hopefully be able to to teach him to love the flute as much as I do (and if not, he can do whatever he wants). But this recital, at the end of my pregnancy, felt like a big one. It felt like my last recital as a non-parent. Any playing I do after that will be as a parent. And I don't know, that felt serious to me. I wanted to sound good, dammit.
And you know what? I totally did. I am so proud of that performance. I have never ever played anything so well. I've never felt so powerful as a flutist, so in control. I knew as I was playing that it sounded good (if maybe a little sloppy, maybe a little too fast and a little out of tune, a little wacky on the breathing). It was nowhere near perfect. But it was really, really good. I don't know if I was playing for the baby (unnamed at the time, but now maybe you see why we named him what we did), or saying goodbye to my (long gone) childhood, or what, but I felt like something was happening, there, and I loved that moment of playing, and look, that's not always the way I feel about performances.
Patrick recorded it for me, and I have it on my iPod. When the baby was about 2 weeks old, I was playing music while feeding him, and it came on. It wasn't the first time I'd heard it but it was the first time I heard it since having him, and dude: I cried. My own stupid playing made me so happy.
After I played the Moquet, I then had to join my fellow flutists and play the Hallelujah Chorus (on bass, as I mentioned before). Someone else counted it off, and I stepped off a cliff. I think what happened is, I wasn't looking at the music (after my performance my brain was all scrambled), and so I played the first bar from memory... and that was as much of the music I had memorized. Oops!
So we started again... and the same thing happened.
Dude: how embarrasing! Still, once we got back on, I think it sounded okay. Playing the bass is fun, but I don't do it very often, so maybe I lack that bass player sense of responsibility and weightiness. I don't know. I only know I screwed it up.
I'll upload the Moquet later tonight and post it for you. Like I said before: it's not perfect. But it's the best I could do, and it was good enough for me to be very proud of.
Yeah, don't get all excited, I only have one thing to upload (and I still haven't done it yet, maybe later), and I don't expect to have any more. However! All the elements or planets or whatever aligned themselves perfectly and I have one performance, of which I am very proud, to share with you.
Later, yes, later.
I can't remember if I talked about it at the time and I'm too lazy to find out, but in December, when I was 32 weeks pregnant, I performed in a little workshop/recital at West Hollywood Presbyterian Church. I had worked on and performed La flute de Pan by Jules Moquet before and I wanted a second crack at it, so Patty, my flute teacher, allowed me to do it again. She doesn't usually let students do that, but I'm just going to come right out and say it: I am no ordinary student. If you are currently a student of Patty's and you're wondering why Irene gets special treatment, well, I'll tell you: I get special treatment because I'm special! Deal with it. And did I mention I was 32 weeks pregnant? Learning something brand new from scratch wasn't going to happen. I had been fooling around with the Moquet at home by myself, and it was easy enough to put together. It's a beautiful piece and I love playing it... so I did it again (only the first movement, "Pan et les bergers" - "les bergers" means "shepherds"), and I'm so glad.
The winter workshop/recital was full of lots of great performances, and Patty's students (mostly kids, but a few of us adults; as one of the adults, and one of the most advanced players, I went last. I've had the honor of going last for several years now) all played really well. I was also in a couple of ensembles (one of them, the Hallelujah Chorus, with me on bass, was kind of a train wreck, and it was totally my fault, but we won't talk about that now), but I was a little nervous about my solo, as usual, and, as you read on, as was to be expected.
I don't have a good track record when it comes to being prepared in advance. I think I've told you before that I love to play, but I'm often not very motivated to practice (though it's funny: once I get started [this is pre-baby] I can sometimes do it for hours. Or sometimes not. I don't have a lot of discipline. I wish I did, of course I'd be a much better musician, but I don't). My history, when it comes to recitals, is to "learn" my piece, oh, pretty much the week before. Of course I'll have worked on it before then, and I know where the hard parts are, but full-on mastery doesn't come until they very last minute, and as you probably know, "full-on mastery" doesn't respond well to last minute preparation. But, that's the way I do it, knowing very well that it makes for miserable lessons and a tear-filled dress rehearsal. Apparently I'm a glutton for this kind of punishment. I will also never change.
This is why I am a. not a professional musician, and b. I forgot what b. was going to be. <--Mommy brain!Oh, the tear-filled dress rehearsal! Patty employs a young pianist named Mark Abulencia, and he's amazing - he's extremely talented as a performer, but where his talents really lie, at least where I'm concerned, is his accompanying. The guy can read minds, and can tell when a flutist is floundering, making shit up, and about to skip a whole measure or two (or, ahem, three). He's saved my butt many times by repeating the last bar of the music, slowing my too-ambitious tempos down, covering up my stupid breathing, and following me when I'm re-writing the music. And he does all that and sounds beautiful at the same time. He's also a sweetheart. My dress rehearsals (usually an hour in Patty's living room the day before the recital) have been the same since high school (Mark hasn't been playing with us for that long but I've had this pattern since then. Yes: I am a slow learner. Where have you been?): I walk in, usually before the player before me has finished, and start putting my flute together to quietly warm up. Patty, involved with her other student, avoids looking at me, which instantly puts me on guard. I know that I am ill-prepared, I know she knows I'm ill-prepared, and I know she knows I know... oh, you get it. And so I work on attaining the proper attitude to cover up my total lack of confidence. I usually come up with "combative," which is a really charming personality trait, and which works until I start to play, screw something easy up, and then it turns to "fearful" and "tearful."
There is sometimes quite a bit of cursing at these rehearsals. In between the tears.
Anyway, yes, I did all that this time. But please remember that I was also 32 weeks pregnant. I was big. I was having serious breathing problems, and it seemed like the only "easy" solution was to push the tempo. I have no idea what the ideal tempo for this movement is; maybe I should've found that out ahead of time. Pushing the tempo meant then that my fingers (and brain) had to keep up so that my stupid lungs wouldn't explode. And Moquet (or can I call him "Jules"?) didn't really help me out. Properly prepared, the phrasing probably would be fine for another, non-pregnant flutist, but I was not that flutist. So there was that to listen to, my weird breaking of phrases, and it was annoying, and it was worrisome, and then it was my turn to play, which is why I'm writing this long-ass entry in the first place.
I know that I will play my flute again. I know that I will perform again. I know that the baby and I may get to play duets when he's old enough and that I will hopefully be able to to teach him to love the flute as much as I do (and if not, he can do whatever he wants). But this recital, at the end of my pregnancy, felt like a big one. It felt like my last recital as a non-parent. Any playing I do after that will be as a parent. And I don't know, that felt serious to me. I wanted to sound good, dammit.
And you know what? I totally did. I am so proud of that performance. I have never ever played anything so well. I've never felt so powerful as a flutist, so in control. I knew as I was playing that it sounded good (if maybe a little sloppy, maybe a little too fast and a little out of tune, a little wacky on the breathing). It was nowhere near perfect. But it was really, really good. I don't know if I was playing for the baby (unnamed at the time, but now maybe you see why we named him what we did), or saying goodbye to my (long gone) childhood, or what, but I felt like something was happening, there, and I loved that moment of playing, and look, that's not always the way I feel about performances.
Patrick recorded it for me, and I have it on my iPod. When the baby was about 2 weeks old, I was playing music while feeding him, and it came on. It wasn't the first time I'd heard it but it was the first time I heard it since having him, and dude: I cried. My own stupid playing made me so happy.
After I played the Moquet, I then had to join my fellow flutists and play the Hallelujah Chorus (on bass, as I mentioned before). Someone else counted it off, and I stepped off a cliff. I think what happened is, I wasn't looking at the music (after my performance my brain was all scrambled), and so I played the first bar from memory... and that was as much of the music I had memorized. Oops!
So we started again... and the same thing happened.
Dude: how embarrasing! Still, once we got back on, I think it sounded okay. Playing the bass is fun, but I don't do it very often, so maybe I lack that bass player sense of responsibility and weightiness. I don't know. I only know I screwed it up.
I'll upload the Moquet later tonight and post it for you. Like I said before: it's not perfect. But it's the best I could do, and it was good enough for me to be very proud of.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Today is Tuesday.
Today has been a much better day at work than yesterday. Thank you very much to those of you who contacted me via email or Facebook to tell me to hang in there. I was really tired yesterday, and I know that had a lot to do with it. And... though even I think this is mostly B.S., there will be a full moon tonight. For some reason I always get a little overly emotional at this time of the month. --> Keep reading:
A minute ago I got an email from the baby's daycare that we need to schedule our "parent/teacher" conference soon, which is funny, because I speak to his teachers two times a day when he's there as it is. What more could we have to say to each other? This is actually the second email, so hey, maybe I'll call them up (though I know those emails are automated) and schedule something.
I ordered a Snug Tuck pillow for our bed last week, and I am going crazy with anticipation. Since we early on went against everything I thought I believed in regarding sleeping with your baby (I was against it until 3 weeks after his birth, when I realized we'd all get a lot more rest if I just let him in with us. And I don't even nurse in bed! And waking up to that sweet little face is something I will never give up!), and he's starting to try to roll over (I am so proud!), and I think Patrick would like to sleep with his head facing the right direction again one day, I started investigating bed rails. You can go ahead and do a search on Snug Tuck pillows and you will find a hundred blog posts exactly like this one (well, maybe not exactly) so knowing that what I have to say about the product (which I haven't even received yet) is going to be exactly like everyone else's comments... well, who wants to do that? Not me. Once it comes I'll post a photo, and a hopefully unique review.
(Snug Tuck pillow: a large bolster like pillow that attaches to the mattress on top of the fitted sheet to prevent baby from falling on the floor. Not squishy so baby won't, hey, get squished. Because a squished baby would be bad, right? I mean, I'm a new mom, but yeah, I think I'd prefer an unsquished baby. They're totally customizable, fabric-wise, and seem like the best solution. They get lots of loves on blogs and in mommy forums [full disclosure: I hate those forums! The information might be useful but they use so many annoying acronyms and cutesy sayings! "DD" for "darling daughter? Gag me. Just type the words! And who calls their daughter "darling daughter"? I don't know, they're not for me. I read somewhere that companies employ people to go in and correct the grammar on online reviews; I wish someone would do that with the way those people write in the forums [or here on this blog, yes, I know, shut up].] I looked at other guardrails and didn't like how hard they were. And, when J. eventually goes to his own bed [crib? what crib?] it will easily go with him. And the cover is washable. Mine is organic cotton, in a color I think they call "natural." It looks beige. Whatever, I just want it to arrive!)
There's an excess of parentheses and brackets in that paragraph. Oops. You know, somebody called me a "mommyblogger" today and I found that kind of annoying but I guess it's what I've been doing, so who am I to be annoyed? Maybe I'd better write another letter to Stewart Copeland soon.
Okay, so, I've exhausted all my words for today, I think. Gotta go make some more.
And no, since we're sharing everything here today, I did not get my period. Yay!For those of you wondering, there are non-baby things that I think about, and in fact I had something in mind just this morning, but unfortunately for you, I've since forgotten what it was. I do recall that I intended to write it down before I, you know, forgot it. Huh. Should've gotten on that sooner, I guess.
A minute ago I got an email from the baby's daycare that we need to schedule our "parent/teacher" conference soon, which is funny, because I speak to his teachers two times a day when he's there as it is. What more could we have to say to each other? This is actually the second email, so hey, maybe I'll call them up (though I know those emails are automated) and schedule something.
I ordered a Snug Tuck pillow for our bed last week, and I am going crazy with anticipation. Since we early on went against everything I thought I believed in regarding sleeping with your baby (I was against it until 3 weeks after his birth, when I realized we'd all get a lot more rest if I just let him in with us. And I don't even nurse in bed! And waking up to that sweet little face is something I will never give up!), and he's starting to try to roll over (I am so proud!), and I think Patrick would like to sleep with his head facing the right direction again one day, I started investigating bed rails. You can go ahead and do a search on Snug Tuck pillows and you will find a hundred blog posts exactly like this one (well, maybe not exactly) so knowing that what I have to say about the product (which I haven't even received yet) is going to be exactly like everyone else's comments... well, who wants to do that? Not me. Once it comes I'll post a photo, and a hopefully unique review.
(Snug Tuck pillow: a large bolster like pillow that attaches to the mattress on top of the fitted sheet to prevent baby from falling on the floor. Not squishy so baby won't, hey, get squished. Because a squished baby would be bad, right? I mean, I'm a new mom, but yeah, I think I'd prefer an unsquished baby. They're totally customizable, fabric-wise, and seem like the best solution. They get lots of loves on blogs and in mommy forums [full disclosure: I hate those forums! The information might be useful but they use so many annoying acronyms and cutesy sayings! "DD" for "darling daughter? Gag me. Just type the words! And who calls their daughter "darling daughter"? I don't know, they're not for me. I read somewhere that companies employ people to go in and correct the grammar on online reviews; I wish someone would do that with the way those people write in the forums [or here on this blog, yes, I know, shut up].] I looked at other guardrails and didn't like how hard they were. And, when J. eventually goes to his own bed [crib? what crib?] it will easily go with him. And the cover is washable. Mine is organic cotton, in a color I think they call "natural." It looks beige. Whatever, I just want it to arrive!)
There's an excess of parentheses and brackets in that paragraph. Oops. You know, somebody called me a "mommyblogger" today and I found that kind of annoying but I guess it's what I've been doing, so who am I to be annoyed? Maybe I'd better write another letter to Stewart Copeland soon.
Okay, so, I've exhausted all my words for today, I think. Gotta go make some more.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Week 1 of being back to work was easy.
But today, day 1 of week 2? I am in need of some encouragement.
I'm tired. I miss my baby. Yesterday was a lazy day, but then in the late afternoon, we realized that we really needed to go grocery shopping, so Patrick and I took J. to Wal-Mart (not my favorite store, but they literally have everything we need; they make it so hard to go anywhere else). Their food selection is pretty good. They have lots of Kashi for me and Morningstar Farms for Patrick. I think that trip kind of messed up the baby's wind-down time in the evening because he was fussier than usual (he usually isn't fussy at all!) at bedtime. I was already feeling worn out so it was hard. Maybe I'm going to (finally) get my period soon because I was feeling that kind of tired.
I still am, actually. Our night-time feedings (usually two, between 12:30 and 2:30) turned into three, and I don't know, I think he could tell I was tired. And then instead of sleeping until 4:15 (like he did all week!) he woke up again at 3:30, hungry!
Today at work? I just miss him. I'm jealous of Patrick for getting to be with him all day, while I have to pump (I tried to go for it 5 times instead of just 4, since he's being fed 5 times at home or in daycare, but man is it harder. I mean, I have to work, too! I think I'm going to have to get that 5th one in at home, which sucks because I want to be with him when I'm home, not hooked up to the pump). I know he deserves time with the baby and it's so nice that he can do it, but... I want to be home, too.
Blah. I'm so lucky I only have to work 4 days a week! It's too bad they're loooong days but I have to remember I get to be home 3 days a week. I get that extra whole day that most people don't.
I can do this. Right?
I'm tired. I miss my baby. Yesterday was a lazy day, but then in the late afternoon, we realized that we really needed to go grocery shopping, so Patrick and I took J. to Wal-Mart (not my favorite store, but they literally have everything we need; they make it so hard to go anywhere else). Their food selection is pretty good. They have lots of Kashi for me and Morningstar Farms for Patrick. I think that trip kind of messed up the baby's wind-down time in the evening because he was fussier than usual (he usually isn't fussy at all!) at bedtime. I was already feeling worn out so it was hard. Maybe I'm going to (finally) get my period soon because I was feeling that kind of tired.
I still am, actually. Our night-time feedings (usually two, between 12:30 and 2:30) turned into three, and I don't know, I think he could tell I was tired. And then instead of sleeping until 4:15 (like he did all week!) he woke up again at 3:30, hungry!
Today at work? I just miss him. I'm jealous of Patrick for getting to be with him all day, while I have to pump (I tried to go for it 5 times instead of just 4, since he's being fed 5 times at home or in daycare, but man is it harder. I mean, I have to work, too! I think I'm going to have to get that 5th one in at home, which sucks because I want to be with him when I'm home, not hooked up to the pump). I know he deserves time with the baby and it's so nice that he can do it, but... I want to be home, too.
Blah. I'm so lucky I only have to work 4 days a week! It's too bad they're loooong days but I have to remember I get to be home 3 days a week. I get that extra whole day that most people don't.
I can do this. Right?
Monday, May 9, 2011
Back in the saddle
I'm back at work today.
I'm not thrilled about it. After being a full-time mom (for three months), getting up at 4:15 a.m. to feed the baby, take a shower and get on the freeway by 6:15 was not fun. I had no idea, when I got pregnant, that I would adapt to being home all the time so well (and with a minimal display of my previous lazy disposition).
I'll be honest: at 9 o'clock last night, after I put the baby down for bed and I was getting my stuff ready for this morning, I didn't want to go to sleep. I (cried) told Patrick, I don't want to go to bed because that means it'll be tomorrow sooner. But I did go to bed, snuggled up with my little cutie, and we got up at 12:30, 2:30, and 4:15. He's almost on a consistent schedule, but I was surprised he woke up at 12:30 (he usually makes it to 1:30). And then, when it was time to leave? I cried before I put the car in reverse to get out of the driveway (and again, when I transfered from the 91 to the 710. And again, when I got off the freeway and made that left turn towards work. And again, when I pulled into the parking lot).
In an effort to find something good about this, I have come up with the following Pros about being at work (the Cons I assume you can guess):
It'll be okay. I know I'm not the first woman to regret leaving her baby. That said: it still sucks.
I'm not thrilled about it. After being a full-time mom (for three months), getting up at 4:15 a.m. to feed the baby, take a shower and get on the freeway by 6:15 was not fun. I had no idea, when I got pregnant, that I would adapt to being home all the time so well (and with a minimal display of my previous lazy disposition).
I'll be honest: at 9 o'clock last night, after I put the baby down for bed and I was getting my stuff ready for this morning, I didn't want to go to sleep. I (cried) told Patrick, I don't want to go to bed because that means it'll be tomorrow sooner. But I did go to bed, snuggled up with my little cutie, and we got up at 12:30, 2:30, and 4:15. He's almost on a consistent schedule, but I was surprised he woke up at 12:30 (he usually makes it to 1:30). And then, when it was time to leave? I cried before I put the car in reverse to get out of the driveway (and again, when I transfered from the 91 to the 710. And again, when I got off the freeway and made that left turn towards work. And again, when I pulled into the parking lot).
In an effort to find something good about this, I have come up with the following Pros about being at work (the Cons I assume you can guess):
- I can go to the bathroom alone, and whenever I want.
- Shit! I knew there was another one but I've forgotten it already.
It'll be okay. I know I'm not the first woman to regret leaving her baby. That said: it still sucks.
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| Wouldn't YOU want to be at home with this cutie? |
Saturday, April 23, 2011
My infant is keeping me out of the movie theater and for that I thank him and give him a big kiss on the nose
I read "Water for Elephants" two years ago when my mother had her first knee surgery, so I didn't really have the time or interest to write a review (I'm Terrible at writing reviews anyway). At the time I just wrote (here: http://irenethebean.blogspot.com/2009/09/ride-home-and-week-prior.html) that I didn't like it.
The movie looks pretty horrible to me, too. Can Robert Pattinson or Reese Witherspoon act? Here's one movie I'm glad I'll be missing.
The movie looks pretty horrible to me, too. Can Robert Pattinson or Reese Witherspoon act? Here's one movie I'm glad I'll be missing.
Monday, April 18, 2011
The weekend
What a weekend!
After Exton's two days in daycare (which went okay... I'm still not crazy about the idea of it, but the reality is, it's fine.*), I was so happy to have him all to myself on Friday! I can't even remember what we did but I suspect there was lots of cuddling and cooing involved. He's so animated now, and happy in the mornings - he smiles all the time and though he's not quite laughing out loud, you can tell that he wants to. I do know that we went for my daily trip to Kaiser, where he got to meet Birdie, the nurse who changed my packing a few times last week and who I kind of fell in love with, she's so nice. Birdie was excited to meet him because I'd been talking about him a lot, and he, of course, charmed her as he has charmed every nurse he's come into contact with so far.
On Saturday, I got up early to go to Urgent Care to have my bandage changed and repacked, and that took forever. Ex and I were waiting for two hours, and in that time he had a huge poop, needed a costume change, and got very hungry. I ended up having to nurse the baby in the waiting room, which I was prepared for - I bought a nursing cover the other day for just these kinds of situations. Of course about 10 minutes after I started, the nurse called me. Actually, it was a medical assistant, and a male, and I think he was a little thrown off by seeing me breastfeeding. But once we were in the back, all the nurses saw Jules and commented on how cute he is. Of course they did. When we got home, my sister came for a visit, and she had a great idea - she suggested we take Ex out to lunch. Usually when my family visits we send someone out to pick up some lunch for us (my brother has been getting these really yummy chef's salads from Hof's Hut), but she was feeling adventurous (and it was so hot at my house on Saturday!). We decided to go to Islands.
Islands was the perfect restaurant for a baby - they have something they call a "sling," which is just a little hammock to hold the car seat. I've never seen it before but I think it means we'll be going to Islands a lot in the future. It was perfect - Exton was quiet and content for almost our whole meal (he did get a little fussy toward the end). We had a great time.
When we got home, Angie was playing with him on the couch when she saw something on his thigh that she thought might be ringworm. She's a pre-school teacher so she's seen a lot of ringworm. I called the Kaiser advice nurse to see if they would tell us we could buy something for it and treat it ourselves, but unfortunately, the nurse said that if we really thought it was ringworm, we needed to take him to urgent care. I guess because ringworm is contagious.
I wasn't looking forward to going back to urgent care, but they have a separate one for kids, and that was perfect - there was nobody there. The nurse who checked him out wasn't 100% positive it was ringworm (it was a very small mark), so she called in another nurse to consult, and then the doctor took a look. Between the three of them they decided it was only a little eczema, which I also have. Apparently it runs in families, unfortunately. They told me how to care for it, and we were on our way. I'm glad it wasn't ringworm. I was afraid he'd picked something up from daycare. I know he will but after only two days?
Anyway, after that we had a quiet night at home. Sunday Ex and I were both kind of cranky and tired, but we went to visit my folks - I had to get out of Long Beach's heat! Culver City is usually about 10 degrees cooler. It was a nice visit, though short.
Here's a picture from our outing to Islands. Fun!
*I talked to another mother who has twins in the infant room with Jules. She was effusive with her praise of the center, and in particular of Jules' teachers. She told me she had also been nervous when she started bringing her babies there, and that she still calls every day but that she was happy with the care her kids are getting. And when I hung out Wednesday morning, her children did seem very happy and content.
After Exton's two days in daycare (which went okay... I'm still not crazy about the idea of it, but the reality is, it's fine.*), I was so happy to have him all to myself on Friday! I can't even remember what we did but I suspect there was lots of cuddling and cooing involved. He's so animated now, and happy in the mornings - he smiles all the time and though he's not quite laughing out loud, you can tell that he wants to. I do know that we went for my daily trip to Kaiser, where he got to meet Birdie, the nurse who changed my packing a few times last week and who I kind of fell in love with, she's so nice. Birdie was excited to meet him because I'd been talking about him a lot, and he, of course, charmed her as he has charmed every nurse he's come into contact with so far.
On Saturday, I got up early to go to Urgent Care to have my bandage changed and repacked, and that took forever. Ex and I were waiting for two hours, and in that time he had a huge poop, needed a costume change, and got very hungry. I ended up having to nurse the baby in the waiting room, which I was prepared for - I bought a nursing cover the other day for just these kinds of situations. Of course about 10 minutes after I started, the nurse called me. Actually, it was a medical assistant, and a male, and I think he was a little thrown off by seeing me breastfeeding. But once we were in the back, all the nurses saw Jules and commented on how cute he is. Of course they did. When we got home, my sister came for a visit, and she had a great idea - she suggested we take Ex out to lunch. Usually when my family visits we send someone out to pick up some lunch for us (my brother has been getting these really yummy chef's salads from Hof's Hut), but she was feeling adventurous (and it was so hot at my house on Saturday!). We decided to go to Islands.
Islands was the perfect restaurant for a baby - they have something they call a "sling," which is just a little hammock to hold the car seat. I've never seen it before but I think it means we'll be going to Islands a lot in the future. It was perfect - Exton was quiet and content for almost our whole meal (he did get a little fussy toward the end). We had a great time.
When we got home, Angie was playing with him on the couch when she saw something on his thigh that she thought might be ringworm. She's a pre-school teacher so she's seen a lot of ringworm. I called the Kaiser advice nurse to see if they would tell us we could buy something for it and treat it ourselves, but unfortunately, the nurse said that if we really thought it was ringworm, we needed to take him to urgent care. I guess because ringworm is contagious.
I wasn't looking forward to going back to urgent care, but they have a separate one for kids, and that was perfect - there was nobody there. The nurse who checked him out wasn't 100% positive it was ringworm (it was a very small mark), so she called in another nurse to consult, and then the doctor took a look. Between the three of them they decided it was only a little eczema, which I also have. Apparently it runs in families, unfortunately. They told me how to care for it, and we were on our way. I'm glad it wasn't ringworm. I was afraid he'd picked something up from daycare. I know he will but after only two days?
Anyway, after that we had a quiet night at home. Sunday Ex and I were both kind of cranky and tired, but we went to visit my folks - I had to get out of Long Beach's heat! Culver City is usually about 10 degrees cooler. It was a nice visit, though short.
Here's a picture from our outing to Islands. Fun!
 |
| Mommy looks a little insane here! |
*I talked to another mother who has twins in the infant room with Jules. She was effusive with her praise of the center, and in particular of Jules' teachers. She told me she had also been nervous when she started bringing her babies there, and that she still calls every day but that she was happy with the care her kids are getting. And when I hung out Wednesday morning, her children did seem very happy and content.
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