The good: The fusspot had her 12 month check-up yesterday and seems to be growing quite well. As predicted, 30th percentile for height (up from 17th last time!), 30th for weight, and 91st for head circumference. My baby can out-cartoon character even her stuffed animals. Think something like a Sanrio character: short, fairly thin with an extra-large-sized head.
I do also love being back in NYC. When I told the pediatrician that we were taking the fusspot off on our fabulous vacation, she said with a great deal of confidence that she has a favorite pharmacy for mixing anti-malarials for babies, did I mind going to a different neighborhood to pick them up?
The great: Um, apparently ... while I didn't notice because I have no scale or big mirror in Lalaland ... I've shrunk. To a size 4. Many, many new clothes were purchased to celebrate this fact. Here's to hoping none of them fit come summertime.
The terrifying: First blood draw of Project 2.0. And all of the waves of fear and terror came back as I was waiting for the blood draw (mind you, I didn't flinch during my 3 shots in the 10 minutes prior, this has nothing to do with needles) and even more so when I opened the e-mail with the results the next day. But folks, we now have a baseline prolactin for me (although apparently prolactin levels vary widely depending on the time of day, whether the baby is latched on, etc.) and if it drop significantly when I day wean the fusspot this spring (i.e. stop pumping) then I may have an argument for starting fertility meds before she is 100% weaned. The doctor very nicely pulled up a bunch of studies on prolactin levels but I have yet to find one on "extended nursing" (the definition of post-12 month nursing) and fertility that looked reliable (and yes, I am that woman who asked around in my GPs office to find the doctor who went through IF treatments and will thus write me scripts for lab tests on my own request, trusting that I've done the research).
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Tomorrow tomorrow
The alarm is set for 8:30. The fusspot will go to daycare around 9 and I'll straight to work. And then at 2 we'll head to the airport and JD will be waiting for us in NYC!
And this time he really, truly gets that I could use a break. He's vacuumed, he's mopped, he's baby-proofed, he's shopped, and he's promised I can sleep in. We'll see.
Did I mention the fusspot has an ear infection? And for once I decided to 'go local' and follow the doctor's advice ... so no antibiotics. Nope, we've just been nursing and taking long baths to get through it. They don't really believe in antibiotics for babies here. I'm not sure how I stand on the issue.
I did get a nice compliment last week. Really nice (and not at all back-handed), but it still has me scrubbing and cleaning tonight. See, I have very few unannounced guests in my apartment here and I live alone and the place is huge ... so it's not always spotless. My friend walked in quite unannounced and looked around the kitchen and said "I am always suspicious of those women who claim to do it all. Your place is filthy which really reassures me that you are spending every moment with the fusspot when you're not at work." Actually, there's a rather funny back-story as to how she showed up at my place. See, I suggested that we go out in our little snowstorm to take photos. Maternity photos. That's right folks. I did a maternity photo shoot in a snowstorm while carrying my fussing fusspot in the Ergo and I didn't even cry about it. But the photos are gorgeous and the baby is due any day.
New subject.
Breasts and advertising. The fusspot has been in bus stop heaven all week. On one side of our local bus stop is this ad:
I'd give it a 6 out of 10 for use of breasts. They are obviously in the forefront of the image, about lifesize. And, well, I guess they make me want to listen to the radio.
But this is the other side of our bus stop:
10 out of 10. For a country that is rather queasy about breastfeeding they sure have no qualms using breasts to advertise ... insurance?
And this time he really, truly gets that I could use a break. He's vacuumed, he's mopped, he's baby-proofed, he's shopped, and he's promised I can sleep in. We'll see.
Did I mention the fusspot has an ear infection? And for once I decided to 'go local' and follow the doctor's advice ... so no antibiotics. Nope, we've just been nursing and taking long baths to get through it. They don't really believe in antibiotics for babies here. I'm not sure how I stand on the issue.
I did get a nice compliment last week. Really nice (and not at all back-handed), but it still has me scrubbing and cleaning tonight. See, I have very few unannounced guests in my apartment here and I live alone and the place is huge ... so it's not always spotless. My friend walked in quite unannounced and looked around the kitchen and said "I am always suspicious of those women who claim to do it all. Your place is filthy which really reassures me that you are spending every moment with the fusspot when you're not at work." Actually, there's a rather funny back-story as to how she showed up at my place. See, I suggested that we go out in our little snowstorm to take photos. Maternity photos. That's right folks. I did a maternity photo shoot in a snowstorm while carrying my fussing fusspot in the Ergo and I didn't even cry about it. But the photos are gorgeous and the baby is due any day.
New subject.
Breasts and advertising. The fusspot has been in bus stop heaven all week. On one side of our local bus stop is this ad:
I'd give it a 6 out of 10 for use of breasts. They are obviously in the forefront of the image, about lifesize. And, well, I guess they make me want to listen to the radio.But this is the other side of our bus stop:
10 out of 10. For a country that is rather queasy about breastfeeding they sure have no qualms using breasts to advertise ... insurance?
Friday, December 18, 2009
Tis the season for angst
Let's just start with the basics. Like most American Jews I love Christmas. I love the music, I love the lights, I love the cookies, I love looking in other people's houses and seeing their decorations. I've been to at least 5 Christmas services and quite possibly more. My family always sponsored Christmas gifts for a needy family and my mother encouraged us to participate in whatever we wanted to - all as part of appreciating my friend's traditions. When I worked in retail I happily wished everyone who told me that they were celebrating Christmas a "Merry Christmas" just as I would hope they would wish me "chag sameach" in September.
But I don't celebrate Christmas. And especially not in my home. There are no "holiday" lights or treats in our house - the only seasonal holiday will end tomorrow night at sunset. We do have a very traditional way of celebrating Christmas day itself - a matinee and Chinese take-out, but that is not religious. And it is important to me that my fusspot understands the difference. We can learn about and celebrate other's traditions, but our house is an observant one.
And I am sure that I am more defensive this year both because I have a child whose religious education I am responsible for and because I am living in a country which simply refuses to recognize that it has any minorities at all.
In Judaism we often say a prayer to celebrate firsts. First steps, first day of school, first time you eat a fruit in a given year. So today when I dropped the fusspot at daycare and took home a card I opened it with a silent wish: May this be the first and the last time I ever receive a card which says "Merry Christmas" on it from my daughter.
ps - While I was not particularly peeved that the fusspot's daycare room is decorated for Christmas (complete with papercut trees, a mini-tree on a desk and Santas) or that Santa himself came to visit, I was peeved to see a little wooden nativity scene for the babies to play with. In my mind that is crossing the line (and no, it is not a religious daycare).
But I don't celebrate Christmas. And especially not in my home. There are no "holiday" lights or treats in our house - the only seasonal holiday will end tomorrow night at sunset. We do have a very traditional way of celebrating Christmas day itself - a matinee and Chinese take-out, but that is not religious. And it is important to me that my fusspot understands the difference. We can learn about and celebrate other's traditions, but our house is an observant one.
And I am sure that I am more defensive this year both because I have a child whose religious education I am responsible for and because I am living in a country which simply refuses to recognize that it has any minorities at all.
In Judaism we often say a prayer to celebrate firsts. First steps, first day of school, first time you eat a fruit in a given year. So today when I dropped the fusspot at daycare and took home a card I opened it with a silent wish: May this be the first and the last time I ever receive a card which says "Merry Christmas" on it from my daughter.
ps - While I was not particularly peeved that the fusspot's daycare room is decorated for Christmas (complete with papercut trees, a mini-tree on a desk and Santas) or that Santa himself came to visit, I was peeved to see a little wooden nativity scene for the babies to play with. In my mind that is crossing the line (and no, it is not a religious daycare).
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Please send your love
I know my blog has been full of non-stop whining recently, but please click over and send your love to those who really need it, specifically Sarah at Dreams and False Alarms.
On a different subject
Someone please explain to me how a sleep apnea machine is a medical device but my breast pump isn't? Which in short means I have to chose between bringing 2 of these 3 things home:
a. laptop
b. breastpump
c. diaper bag with diapers for the baby
And since good test takers always know that answer is C, my apologies in advance to anyone sitting near us on our flight. I am strongly suspecting we're going to run out of diapers if I only bring the ones which fit into said non-medical device aboard (and no, I'm not going to check a $280 non-medical device even if I won't actually be using it on the flight).
a. laptop
b. breastpump
c. diaper bag with diapers for the baby
And since good test takers always know that answer is C, my apologies in advance to anyone sitting near us on our flight. I am strongly suspecting we're going to run out of diapers if I only bring the ones which fit into said non-medical device aboard (and no, I'm not going to check a $280 non-medical device even if I won't actually be using it on the flight).
No improvement
But your comments did cheer me up mightily. I am so pleased that my first three commenters have full faith that I would only walk away from the baby for a couple of minutes. Folks, I have to do that all the time. Let me give you an image of yesterday evening through to this morning:
8:15 show guests out the door
8:17 in bed with fusspot (I had already changed her for bed, I figured I'd brush teeth etc. later)
9:20 she's asleep, I make my escape
9:26 she's awake - I nurse her again, fall asleep
11:30 I wake up, she's asleep, sneak out to start housework
11:35 she wakes up, I return to bed
2:20 she wakes up, I nurse her
4:05 I wake up, sit bolt upright because I've just remembered that the leftovers from dinner are still out and since that's our meal plan for the week I can't let it go bed
4:06 fusspot wakes up, I nurse her
4:20 I am over this. Move fusspot to crib. Start dishes. Fusspot commences screaming bloody murder.
4:45 fusspot still screaming - move her to high chair. Definitely not separation anxiety, she is even more pissed to have me around. Try sling, no luck.
4:20-5:15 Put away food, dishes, brush teeth, hang laundry which had been sitting for hours. Fusspot screams non-stop.
5:16 return to bed, start nursing her again
6:55 she wakes up again, contemplate getting her up so I can be first in line to drop her at daycare when it opens at 8 am but instead lie back down
9:30 wake up when the fusspot pinches me on the breast. She proceeds to scream for 15 minutes while I change her, get her dressed, make her bottles for the day and get ready.
10:01 Drop her at daycare. She smiles and grins ... and then commences screaming again.
Which is all to say that I was hardly talking about walking away for a short break. In each of the past three nights I have had to leave my baby to scream herself hoarse for the better part of an hour. I feel like I am going mad.
And honestly, I'm worried that something is really wrong. She has no fever, her appetite is fine, she's not arching her back particularly much (a standard sign of pain) or pulling on her ears or favoring either side of her body. There is oddles of nasty green snot dripping from her nose, but it's been that way since September. Those are all good signs that nothing is seriously wrong and yet I don't feel reassured. Nor do I think that I can get a doctor her to test her white blood cell count or do a full body examine. I mean, the last two times we were at the doctors they didn't even take a medical history of the child. My favorite daycare teacher promised to call in the next hour and give me her evaluation. Until then, I'll be taking a long, hot shower and pretending I'm not actually supposed to be at work right now.
Update: The good doctor called in a prescription for something or other (my foreign language skills often falter when it comes to drugs) and I can pick it up later today. He will not be in the office until tomorrow but happily diagnosed the fusspot with a common cold and attendant ear pain over the phone. I do so hope he is right.
8:15 show guests out the door
8:17 in bed with fusspot (I had already changed her for bed, I figured I'd brush teeth etc. later)
9:20 she's asleep, I make my escape
9:26 she's awake - I nurse her again, fall asleep
11:30 I wake up, she's asleep, sneak out to start housework
11:35 she wakes up, I return to bed
2:20 she wakes up, I nurse her
4:05 I wake up, sit bolt upright because I've just remembered that the leftovers from dinner are still out and since that's our meal plan for the week I can't let it go bed
4:06 fusspot wakes up, I nurse her
4:20 I am over this. Move fusspot to crib. Start dishes. Fusspot commences screaming bloody murder.
4:45 fusspot still screaming - move her to high chair. Definitely not separation anxiety, she is even more pissed to have me around. Try sling, no luck.
4:20-5:15 Put away food, dishes, brush teeth, hang laundry which had been sitting for hours. Fusspot screams non-stop.
5:16 return to bed, start nursing her again
6:55 she wakes up again, contemplate getting her up so I can be first in line to drop her at daycare when it opens at 8 am but instead lie back down
9:30 wake up when the fusspot pinches me on the breast. She proceeds to scream for 15 minutes while I change her, get her dressed, make her bottles for the day and get ready.
10:01 Drop her at daycare. She smiles and grins ... and then commences screaming again.
Which is all to say that I was hardly talking about walking away for a short break. In each of the past three nights I have had to leave my baby to scream herself hoarse for the better part of an hour. I feel like I am going mad.
And honestly, I'm worried that something is really wrong. She has no fever, her appetite is fine, she's not arching her back particularly much (a standard sign of pain) or pulling on her ears or favoring either side of her body. There is oddles of nasty green snot dripping from her nose, but it's been that way since September. Those are all good signs that nothing is seriously wrong and yet I don't feel reassured. Nor do I think that I can get a doctor her to test her white blood cell count or do a full body examine. I mean, the last two times we were at the doctors they didn't even take a medical history of the child. My favorite daycare teacher promised to call in the next hour and give me her evaluation. Until then, I'll be taking a long, hot shower and pretending I'm not actually supposed to be at work right now.
Update: The good doctor called in a prescription for something or other (my foreign language skills often falter when it comes to drugs) and I can pick it up later today. He will not be in the office until tomorrow but happily diagnosed the fusspot with a common cold and attendant ear pain over the phone. I do so hope he is right.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Just another vent
It's 2 am and I'm on the couch upstairs.
And my baby is downstairs screaming.
No, we're not doing CIO. There is no well-researched parenting philosophy behind my cowering on the couch upstairs.
I don't know if it's new teeth. Or the cold (new one). Or being overtired. Or whatever. She's been biting all day. And super-clingy. And I'm in rather a lot of pain and I just couldn't take it anymore. She was fast asleep but the moment I got up to pee and put away the dinner dishes she started screaming. And she will not stop until I go nurse her to sleep. And I just can't handle it - at least for another 5 or 10 minutes.
I'd guess that I have easily spent 4 or 5 hours nursing her today. All intermixed with biting and pinching.
Same for yesterday.
I keep reading blogs of women who are doing attachment parenting and don't just leave their children to scream. Not because CIO is bad, but just that we'd planned to try and avoid it. Except that all of those women have partners around. If I don't do yesterday and today's dishes and fold the laundry and wash the high chair all of those tasks will be waiting for me in the morning. And I'd rather spend the morning planning with her and going for a walk than cleaning up the week's mess. And anyway I'm in too much pain to consider nursing again for at least 5 minutes.
I've tried lying next to her and not nursing, but unless I keep my arms crossed over my chest she will spend her time pawing away to get to nursing.
I mean, I even missed writing a bit b-day post this week because I was nursing my baby (and I had planned to post new photos, Ms. J).
And I think of how long I waited for this moment, and how I always managed to stay calm and collected and loving when babysitting sick children. But at the moment I'm just worn out and venting here.
So anyway, that's where we are. This too shall pass soon and I'll be back online.
And my baby is downstairs screaming.
No, we're not doing CIO. There is no well-researched parenting philosophy behind my cowering on the couch upstairs.
I don't know if it's new teeth. Or the cold (new one). Or being overtired. Or whatever. She's been biting all day. And super-clingy. And I'm in rather a lot of pain and I just couldn't take it anymore. She was fast asleep but the moment I got up to pee and put away the dinner dishes she started screaming. And she will not stop until I go nurse her to sleep. And I just can't handle it - at least for another 5 or 10 minutes.
I'd guess that I have easily spent 4 or 5 hours nursing her today. All intermixed with biting and pinching.
Same for yesterday.
I keep reading blogs of women who are doing attachment parenting and don't just leave their children to scream. Not because CIO is bad, but just that we'd planned to try and avoid it. Except that all of those women have partners around. If I don't do yesterday and today's dishes and fold the laundry and wash the high chair all of those tasks will be waiting for me in the morning. And I'd rather spend the morning planning with her and going for a walk than cleaning up the week's mess. And anyway I'm in too much pain to consider nursing again for at least 5 minutes.
I've tried lying next to her and not nursing, but unless I keep my arms crossed over my chest she will spend her time pawing away to get to nursing.
I mean, I even missed writing a bit b-day post this week because I was nursing my baby (and I had planned to post new photos, Ms. J).
And I think of how long I waited for this moment, and how I always managed to stay calm and collected and loving when babysitting sick children. But at the moment I'm just worn out and venting here.
So anyway, that's where we are. This too shall pass soon and I'll be back online.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Four countries, five trains
And I'm quite sure I flashed at least one person in each place. It's been one of those days.
Tally for the past 7 days: the dreaded pox, RSV, one vomiting stomach bug (still ongoing), and one stomach upset resulting in a completely different type of outcome.
Which really explains how I was quite so distracted tonight. There were a number of canceled trains our final stretch and some guy came to ask me how to get to our little city in Lalaland. A few minutes into the conversation he asked if I was not from someplace other than Lalaland ... and I told him I normally live in the City (sidenote: yay for my local language skills!). Turns out he has an apartment about 10 blocks away from us and we stood in the driving rain a little after midnight reminiscing about 24 hour diners in NYC. A long conversation, folks. And then I casually asked what he did that brought him back and forth. And he gave me a rather puzzled looked and said "I'm a model." Turns out a rather successful male model, which does explain why he looked vaguely familiar. You know, the type of familiar feeling when you see someone from a major billboard pop in with a cameo in a movie? That type of familiar. Leave it to me to fail to notice gorgeous until just before the train shows up.
Tally for the past 7 days: the dreaded pox, RSV, one vomiting stomach bug (still ongoing), and one stomach upset resulting in a completely different type of outcome.
Which really explains how I was quite so distracted tonight. There were a number of canceled trains our final stretch and some guy came to ask me how to get to our little city in Lalaland. A few minutes into the conversation he asked if I was not from someplace other than Lalaland ... and I told him I normally live in the City (sidenote: yay for my local language skills!). Turns out he has an apartment about 10 blocks away from us and we stood in the driving rain a little after midnight reminiscing about 24 hour diners in NYC. A long conversation, folks. And then I casually asked what he did that brought him back and forth. And he gave me a rather puzzled looked and said "I'm a model." Turns out a rather successful male model, which does explain why he looked vaguely familiar. You know, the type of familiar feeling when you see someone from a major billboard pop in with a cameo in a movie? That type of familiar. Leave it to me to fail to notice gorgeous until just before the train shows up.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Parenting Improvement
Last time the fusspot threw up all over the bed I'd guess it took me a good 5 minutes to wake up and realize what was going on.
Yesterday? I was out of bed in under 60 seconds and back with a waterproof pad and towel. Of course, the improvement in response time might have something to do with the fact that she threw up all over me. Ah, the joys of co-sleeping.
Hey, at least our sheets will have plenty of time to dry while we're abroad, right?
That also brings the tally for the past 7 days to: the dreaded pox, RSV, and a stomach bug.
And for the record, in thinking about why I am so bitter about some of these pg-announcements this week I realized it is because I still separate bumps from babies. See, I have a baby. Adorable, sweet, laid back, practically perfect. But the bump will always be burdened with invasive procedures and 'high risk' monitoring and fear for me. So I am sure I'll be happier when these people have babies, but bumps are going to take me a good deal longer to warm up to.
Yesterday? I was out of bed in under 60 seconds and back with a waterproof pad and towel. Of course, the improvement in response time might have something to do with the fact that she threw up all over me. Ah, the joys of co-sleeping.
Hey, at least our sheets will have plenty of time to dry while we're abroad, right?
That also brings the tally for the past 7 days to: the dreaded pox, RSV, and a stomach bug.
And for the record, in thinking about why I am so bitter about some of these pg-announcements this week I realized it is because I still separate bumps from babies. See, I have a baby. Adorable, sweet, laid back, practically perfect. But the bump will always be burdened with invasive procedures and 'high risk' monitoring and fear for me. So I am sure I'll be happier when these people have babies, but bumps are going to take me a good deal longer to warm up to.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Not going to end with rainbows again
To recap, I already got two new bump announcements this week. One in an online conversation, one from a friend who insisted we chat via videocam (although his insistence we talk! meant I already knew what was coming up).
And tonight JD told me of another friend. Except of course he used a horrified tone because they're quite religious, and, well, they haven't even been married for 13 weeks so they're obviously not up on basic deocorum like waiting until the end of the first trimester to spill the beans to tangential friends. And not only do they obviously have no fertility issues, they're absolutely clueless about giving birth in the city, the cost of raising a child, basic supplies. And yet we're supposed to smile and congratulate them.
Oh, and another highly suggestive e-mail from a friend. You know, "we should talk soon."
So in the past 2 weeks the count is up to 4 confirmed bumps, 2 suspected (and least you are wondering we don't have that many friends total).
See why I need more photos of rainbows? I truly have nothing nice to say. If I had a bigger heart, I would be happy for them. I'm not. At least not yet.
Back in a few days.
And tonight JD told me of another friend. Except of course he used a horrified tone because they're quite religious, and, well, they haven't even been married for 13 weeks so they're obviously not up on basic deocorum like waiting until the end of the first trimester to spill the beans to tangential friends. And not only do they obviously have no fertility issues, they're absolutely clueless about giving birth in the city, the cost of raising a child, basic supplies. And yet we're supposed to smile and congratulate them.
Oh, and another highly suggestive e-mail from a friend. You know, "we should talk soon."
So in the past 2 weeks the count is up to 4 confirmed bumps, 2 suspected (and least you are wondering we don't have that many friends total).
See why I need more photos of rainbows? I truly have nothing nice to say. If I had a bigger heart, I would be happy for them. I'm not. At least not yet.
Back in a few days.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Grumpy
Since the fabulous Ms. J asked, just a quick update to say that the fusspot is much recovered. She did of course pick up a new cold at her first day back at daycare, but that's to be expected.
The reason I haven't been posting is that I have been in an exceedingly grumpy and whiny mood for days. I already had it out with my poor husband (I feel like he doesn't show enough concern about the little things in our life, he says knowing how tough it is only makes him feel more guilty ... the usual). In the spirit of lists, here's what's making me grumpy:
- My life is only fully functional if the fusspot goes to bed at 8 pm and sleeps for a good 4 hours. I need that time to clean up and detox and work. For a good week she's been waking every 1-2 hours until I go to bed and thus the dishes haven't been done, nor the vacuuming or cleaning up or e-mails or work. Argh!
- I really wish that just once someone else would wash the high chair and scrub the floor. Baby led weaning is such a mess.
- Just once it would be nice to have someone else wrangle the fusspot into her coat in the morning. And hat, for that matter.
- I wish the diapers would dry overnight. As is I only do 4 loads of laundry a week (1 lights, 1 darks, 2 diapers - sheets and towels go in with the darks) but I have to do laundry every other night because it takes so long for things to dry. Oh, and loads take 2 hours and I'm way too nervous to leave the machine running when we're out so laundry involves me putting in clothing and hanging them to dry every other night.
- I wish the kitchen drain would work again.
- I wish the not-t0-be-named blogger who lives in the city famous for Big Ben (where I will be this weekend) would e-mail me so that we could hang out. I think she probably doesn't want to see me because she's not up for hanging out with the fusspot, but if she never writes I can't tell her I am happy to find a babysitter in order to fulfill my fantasy of basking in her fabulous vocabulary. Or maybe she has better reasons for not liking me. Beats me.
- I wish that I'd finished the fusspot's fabulous birthday outfit a good deal earlier.
- I wish that people here in Lalaland would be slightly more aware that there are in fact real, live, grumpy non-Christians out there. Something came up in class this morning and my peers were generally shocked that I am not giving the fusspot Christmas presents. I have no objections to her doing Christmas at daycare (well, few, but they're moot because nobody cares here at all) or going to Santa's house or the Christmas parade, but we do not do Christmas in my house. Nothing that would surprise 95% of Americans but something they all find odd here. It's as if most people want to ignore the hegemony of Christianity entirely and pretend that it's a universal religion. Even odder since the conversation was only a few minutes after a reference to the Shoa.
- I wish that my dear friend here in Lalaland wasn't moving away forever this weekend. I also wish our good-bye present looked less dinky.
And now on to the question of the day (since you can tell from the list above that I am basically a spoiled brat with nothing to complain about). I just realized that the cheap plane tickets for our fabulous vacation are really inconvenient times. Due to cost and some work restrictions we will not be flying out of the city/country where we live. We instead will be heading out of an airport a good 3 hours away. Not a big deal except that the earliest train does not get us in in time for the direct flight of the day:
a. Take the direct flight, even if it means leaving my apartment a day early and staying in a sleazy airport hotel in a city I really don't know all that well. Oh, and just for kicks that would be a sleazy airport hotel in a new city on my b-day.
b. Take a layover so that we can head out at a reasonable time. Extends travel time by a good 5 hours and one new country but no hotels required.
c. Choose a slightly farther airport and at no extra cost get 12 hours in Bahrain or UAE (always a fantasy of mine).
And before you way in, do remember that the fusspot will be 17 months old and presumably fully mobile, and I will be giving a paper at a conference less than 24 hours after our return.
If I don't post again for a couple of days it's because I'm visiting a friend in Lo.nd.on. It is absurd how much I grump given my charmed life.
The reason I haven't been posting is that I have been in an exceedingly grumpy and whiny mood for days. I already had it out with my poor husband (I feel like he doesn't show enough concern about the little things in our life, he says knowing how tough it is only makes him feel more guilty ... the usual). In the spirit of lists, here's what's making me grumpy:
- My life is only fully functional if the fusspot goes to bed at 8 pm and sleeps for a good 4 hours. I need that time to clean up and detox and work. For a good week she's been waking every 1-2 hours until I go to bed and thus the dishes haven't been done, nor the vacuuming or cleaning up or e-mails or work. Argh!
- I really wish that just once someone else would wash the high chair and scrub the floor. Baby led weaning is such a mess.
- Just once it would be nice to have someone else wrangle the fusspot into her coat in the morning. And hat, for that matter.
- I wish the diapers would dry overnight. As is I only do 4 loads of laundry a week (1 lights, 1 darks, 2 diapers - sheets and towels go in with the darks) but I have to do laundry every other night because it takes so long for things to dry. Oh, and loads take 2 hours and I'm way too nervous to leave the machine running when we're out so laundry involves me putting in clothing and hanging them to dry every other night.
- I wish the kitchen drain would work again.
- I wish the not-t0-be-named blogger who lives in the city famous for Big Ben (where I will be this weekend) would e-mail me so that we could hang out. I think she probably doesn't want to see me because she's not up for hanging out with the fusspot, but if she never writes I can't tell her I am happy to find a babysitter in order to fulfill my fantasy of basking in her fabulous vocabulary. Or maybe she has better reasons for not liking me. Beats me.
- I wish that I'd finished the fusspot's fabulous birthday outfit a good deal earlier.
- I wish that people here in Lalaland would be slightly more aware that there are in fact real, live, grumpy non-Christians out there. Something came up in class this morning and my peers were generally shocked that I am not giving the fusspot Christmas presents. I have no objections to her doing Christmas at daycare (well, few, but they're moot because nobody cares here at all) or going to Santa's house or the Christmas parade, but we do not do Christmas in my house. Nothing that would surprise 95% of Americans but something they all find odd here. It's as if most people want to ignore the hegemony of Christianity entirely and pretend that it's a universal religion. Even odder since the conversation was only a few minutes after a reference to the Shoa.
- I wish that my dear friend here in Lalaland wasn't moving away forever this weekend. I also wish our good-bye present looked less dinky.
And now on to the question of the day (since you can tell from the list above that I am basically a spoiled brat with nothing to complain about). I just realized that the cheap plane tickets for our fabulous vacation are really inconvenient times. Due to cost and some work restrictions we will not be flying out of the city/country where we live. We instead will be heading out of an airport a good 3 hours away. Not a big deal except that the earliest train does not get us in in time for the direct flight of the day:
a. Take the direct flight, even if it means leaving my apartment a day early and staying in a sleazy airport hotel in a city I really don't know all that well. Oh, and just for kicks that would be a sleazy airport hotel in a new city on my b-day.
b. Take a layover so that we can head out at a reasonable time. Extends travel time by a good 5 hours and one new country but no hotels required.
c. Choose a slightly farther airport and at no extra cost get 12 hours in Bahrain or UAE (always a fantasy of mine).
And before you way in, do remember that the fusspot will be 17 months old and presumably fully mobile, and I will be giving a paper at a conference less than 24 hours after our return.
If I don't post again for a couple of days it's because I'm visiting a friend in Lo.nd.on. It is absurd how much I grump given my charmed life.
Monday, November 30, 2009
2nd ER Visit
Actually, it also wasn't all that bad.
I panicked around midnight that the fusspot was having trouble breathing. And off we dashed to the ER - except this time in a cab (with her a bit precariously stuffed into a newborn carseat. In the past 6 months she has been in a car a total of less than 12 times).
We were in and out in 10 minutes. The doctor listened to her lungs, reassured me that it was all upper respiratory, and then we returned to bed.
And in the morning I woke to two very lovely new bump announcements. I mean, I knew they were coming but still? Two in one day?
Hopefully we'll be back to normal in a couple of days.
I panicked around midnight that the fusspot was having trouble breathing. And off we dashed to the ER - except this time in a cab (with her a bit precariously stuffed into a newborn carseat. In the past 6 months she has been in a car a total of less than 12 times).
We were in and out in 10 minutes. The doctor listened to her lungs, reassured me that it was all upper respiratory, and then we returned to bed.
And in the morning I woke to two very lovely new bump announcements. I mean, I knew they were coming but still? Two in one day?
Hopefully we'll be back to normal in a couple of days.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Our first ER visit
was really not all that bad.
The fusspot, who actually has an incredibly sunny disposition, started fussing on Friday morning. She had a temperature so I took the day off and we snuggled in bed. And I thought that was the end of it until she spiked a 104.5 fever on Friday night.
Cue hasty jog to the ER.
2 hours later we were ready to leave with ta.miflu for both of us. Until I noticed tamif.lu here is given as a very bitter tasting powder. And at our apartment we keep only breastmilk and white wine in the fridge. Problem is that the fusspot won't take pumped milk when I'm around and apparently white wine is not the mixer of choice for tamif.lu. Over an hour later we had tried to get the fusspot to ingest the magical bitter white powder in OJ (no go - she'd never had it before and it's a bit acidic) and applesauce and finally in desperation sprinkled liberally directly onto the breast in the glass-walled lobby of a major hospital. Hello world, meet my breasts. I'd guess we got a half dose into her.
After a lovely 25 minute stroll we arrived safely home at 2:30 am.
The good news: she doesn't have swine flu. That would have been simply too absurd for her to both get the dreaded pox for a second time before her first birthday and swine flu the day after receiving the vaccine (and obviously before it had had time to kick in).
The bad news: She has the dreaded pox and RSV. And not exactly the normal mild case. So we're at home, in bed, nursing, and worrying.
But least I leave you on a sorry note, while out for a walk yesterday I saw this beautiful rainbow:
The fusspot, who actually has an incredibly sunny disposition, started fussing on Friday morning. She had a temperature so I took the day off and we snuggled in bed. And I thought that was the end of it until she spiked a 104.5 fever on Friday night.
Cue hasty jog to the ER.
2 hours later we were ready to leave with ta.miflu for both of us. Until I noticed tamif.lu here is given as a very bitter tasting powder. And at our apartment we keep only breastmilk and white wine in the fridge. Problem is that the fusspot won't take pumped milk when I'm around and apparently white wine is not the mixer of choice for tamif.lu. Over an hour later we had tried to get the fusspot to ingest the magical bitter white powder in OJ (no go - she'd never had it before and it's a bit acidic) and applesauce and finally in desperation sprinkled liberally directly onto the breast in the glass-walled lobby of a major hospital. Hello world, meet my breasts. I'd guess we got a half dose into her.
After a lovely 25 minute stroll we arrived safely home at 2:30 am.
The good news: she doesn't have swine flu. That would have been simply too absurd for her to both get the dreaded pox for a second time before her first birthday and swine flu the day after receiving the vaccine (and obviously before it had had time to kick in).
The bad news: She has the dreaded pox and RSV. And not exactly the normal mild case. So we're at home, in bed, nursing, and worrying.
But least I leave you on a sorry note, while out for a walk yesterday I saw this beautiful rainbow:
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
An unpopular topic
I need to get something off my chest. On the topic of vaccines.
I might not have mentioned that I spent a half hour googling measles symptoms yesterday night. Bet you didn't know that an unvaccinated child has a 90% chance of getting measles if exposed? (Not the most scientific source but certainly a publication reflecting the AMA advice: http://www.babycenter.com/0_measles_1417820.bc) Wait! Aren't we pro-vaccines? Yes, indeed. But the fusspot is too young for her MMR. And apparently there's been an outbreak somewhere around here. And my baby is covered ankles to the top of her head in read bumps. Bumps which look like little blisters all over her perfect pudgy body.
And I am pissed that I even have to worry about such a disease. But just like the U.S., vaccination here is a "personal choice." And daycares cannot legally exclude a child based on their choice. So if I want to work, I have to send my child to a daycare where they may be exposed to a potentially fatal disease before she is old enough to vaccinate. And there is truly nothing I can do about that. And of course even if she was vaccinated it is not 100% effective. Her health relies on the conscientious parenting of her classmates. Every morning when I drop my baby at daycare I trust that the other parents are kind and aware enough to vaccinate their children.
And well, I just found out a friend of many years has decided not to vaccinate her toddler. And more than that, to publicly proclaim her newfound belief in unscientific books and lots of prayer (for the record I have no problem with delayed vaccinations or selective ones. Chicken pox? Flu? Fine, your choice. Measles? It is super contagious, makes babies very sick, and having lived in the developing world I have seen toddlers die from far less serious diseases). And honestly, I want to send her an e-mail and tell her that her child is no longer welcome in my house. Because when they come to visit her child will have just stepped off a plane, will be traipsing around NYC (which is rather densely populated), and sharing food and toys and hugs with my beautiful fusspot.
Yes, I know we encounter unvaccinated children every day. My baby goes to daycare, to playgroup, to the park, the library, the cafe, on planes and trains and buses every month. But those are unknown risks and have a clear benefit - keeping her mama sane. This is me saying I have to draw the line somewhere, and I will not knowingly invite a fully vaccinated toddler into my apartment. And of course JD things I'm a lunatic and irrational, but how would I feel if my fusspot got sick after a visit from this little girl? It is a preventable risk, and I am pretty sure it's worth alienating a friend over.
And my baby? Consensus of her daycare workers (who see an awful lot of sick babies here) and a friend who dropped by is ... just the familiar ol' dreaded pox. The irony is delicious. The pro-vaccine mama lands up with the baby who gets the pox twice before her first birthday. Thereby making the vaccine impossible but also not guaranteeing immunity since she is so young and still breastfeeding (and thus relying on my immunity). And with that I'm off to nurse my itchy, grumpy, uncomfortable baby who nursed every hour on the hour last night.
And one more thing. Now I have to weigh the risks of giving my baby the flu jab while sick with the risks of her not getting it all (rescheduling apparently being not possible here).
I might not have mentioned that I spent a half hour googling measles symptoms yesterday night. Bet you didn't know that an unvaccinated child has a 90% chance of getting measles if exposed? (Not the most scientific source but certainly a publication reflecting the AMA advice: http://www.babycenter.com/0_measles_1417820.bc) Wait! Aren't we pro-vaccines? Yes, indeed. But the fusspot is too young for her MMR. And apparently there's been an outbreak somewhere around here. And my baby is covered ankles to the top of her head in read bumps. Bumps which look like little blisters all over her perfect pudgy body.
And I am pissed that I even have to worry about such a disease. But just like the U.S., vaccination here is a "personal choice." And daycares cannot legally exclude a child based on their choice. So if I want to work, I have to send my child to a daycare where they may be exposed to a potentially fatal disease before she is old enough to vaccinate. And there is truly nothing I can do about that. And of course even if she was vaccinated it is not 100% effective. Her health relies on the conscientious parenting of her classmates. Every morning when I drop my baby at daycare I trust that the other parents are kind and aware enough to vaccinate their children.
And well, I just found out a friend of many years has decided not to vaccinate her toddler. And more than that, to publicly proclaim her newfound belief in unscientific books and lots of prayer (for the record I have no problem with delayed vaccinations or selective ones. Chicken pox? Flu? Fine, your choice. Measles? It is super contagious, makes babies very sick, and having lived in the developing world I have seen toddlers die from far less serious diseases). And honestly, I want to send her an e-mail and tell her that her child is no longer welcome in my house. Because when they come to visit her child will have just stepped off a plane, will be traipsing around NYC (which is rather densely populated), and sharing food and toys and hugs with my beautiful fusspot.
Yes, I know we encounter unvaccinated children every day. My baby goes to daycare, to playgroup, to the park, the library, the cafe, on planes and trains and buses every month. But those are unknown risks and have a clear benefit - keeping her mama sane. This is me saying I have to draw the line somewhere, and I will not knowingly invite a fully vaccinated toddler into my apartment. And of course JD things I'm a lunatic and irrational, but how would I feel if my fusspot got sick after a visit from this little girl? It is a preventable risk, and I am pretty sure it's worth alienating a friend over.
And my baby? Consensus of her daycare workers (who see an awful lot of sick babies here) and a friend who dropped by is ... just the familiar ol' dreaded pox. The irony is delicious. The pro-vaccine mama lands up with the baby who gets the pox twice before her first birthday. Thereby making the vaccine impossible but also not guaranteeing immunity since she is so young and still breastfeeding (and thus relying on my immunity). And with that I'm off to nurse my itchy, grumpy, uncomfortable baby who nursed every hour on the hour last night.
And one more thing. Now I have to weigh the risks of giving my baby the flu jab while sick with the risks of her not getting it all (rescheduling apparently being not possible here).
Monday, November 23, 2009
The heart is a strange organ
I don't even know how I am going to explain what I did today to JD - the very person who is supposed to know me best in the world.
I bought baby clothes.
Not a single cute t-shirt like the one I found a couple of months ago. A huge shopping bag full. Newborn dresses, boys pajamas size 6 months, onesies.
To start with the obvious, I own a complete set of baby clothes. Washed and packed neatly in large rubbermaid containers in my in-laws basement. Even the washing of the fusspot's baby clothes prior to packing was a terrifying event. I remember when she had thoroughly outgrown her newborn clothes standing in the hall wondering if it was tempting fate to was them. Remembering that if something terrible happened to her I would want clothes which smelled like her (this was right around when the absolutely unthinkable happened on the Gorilla buns blog - she had a long post about unwashed clothing). Second, I am always careful to preface any discussion about Project 2.0 with "if we have another baby ..." I know we will grow our family at some point, but there is nothing at all certain about a baby.
I found the woman through an ad for cheap used baby clothes. And we bonded quite quickly when I took off my shirt less than 5 minutes after entering her house and she whispered with a naughty smile that she too is still breastfeeding her 15 month old (rather taboo here). And she cosleeps. And enjoys not having activities for her two toddlers. And then we hit treacherous ground. Because she was selling baby clothes after all. So I must have said something about her toddlers growing up. She talked and talked about how she wasn't sure if they were going to have a third child, she really hoped so, but given her age nothing was certain ... and of course she had kept her favorite baby items in a box but still she wanted another child ... but it was uncertain ... but she'd love another baby ... and she hadn't bought a single baby item before the first child because it was tempting fate ... and even though she was selling the bulk of her baby items she wasn't done trying to grow her family ...
And as I sat there sorting through 18 month size clothing I reached over for the newborn pile. Ostensibly for my friend who is due next month. But I'm not giving these clothes to her.
I truly don't know why. I know our chances are reasonable but not huge. 10-20% chance per cycle that I am allowed to go to trigger (which is far less than 50% on my track record thus far). Possibly a bit higher with IVF because they don't have to worry so much about how many follicles grow. Maybe I just want to pretend that I am a normal 28-year-old who can casually throw out at the playground that we'll be trying for another baby in the summer.
Or maybe it's because I realized while listening to the woman that there is no waffling in my plans: I want another baby. I want another pregnancy, I want another newborn. I am terrified of twins, I am worried of what another baby so soon would do to my career, I realize that both treatments and another high risk pregnancy will put stress on my marriage. I have convinced myself that since I felt great through the pregnancy and had an easy delivery the next one will be miserable. And despite all of that, I am certain. And because of that my heart is going to be broken if it doesn't happen, and one more bag of newborn clothes in the closet is not going to make it sting any more.
I bought baby clothes.
Not a single cute t-shirt like the one I found a couple of months ago. A huge shopping bag full. Newborn dresses, boys pajamas size 6 months, onesies.
To start with the obvious, I own a complete set of baby clothes. Washed and packed neatly in large rubbermaid containers in my in-laws basement. Even the washing of the fusspot's baby clothes prior to packing was a terrifying event. I remember when she had thoroughly outgrown her newborn clothes standing in the hall wondering if it was tempting fate to was them. Remembering that if something terrible happened to her I would want clothes which smelled like her (this was right around when the absolutely unthinkable happened on the Gorilla buns blog - she had a long post about unwashed clothing). Second, I am always careful to preface any discussion about Project 2.0 with "if we have another baby ..." I know we will grow our family at some point, but there is nothing at all certain about a baby.
I found the woman through an ad for cheap used baby clothes. And we bonded quite quickly when I took off my shirt less than 5 minutes after entering her house and she whispered with a naughty smile that she too is still breastfeeding her 15 month old (rather taboo here). And she cosleeps. And enjoys not having activities for her two toddlers. And then we hit treacherous ground. Because she was selling baby clothes after all. So I must have said something about her toddlers growing up. She talked and talked about how she wasn't sure if they were going to have a third child, she really hoped so, but given her age nothing was certain ... and of course she had kept her favorite baby items in a box but still she wanted another child ... but it was uncertain ... but she'd love another baby ... and she hadn't bought a single baby item before the first child because it was tempting fate ... and even though she was selling the bulk of her baby items she wasn't done trying to grow her family ...
And as I sat there sorting through 18 month size clothing I reached over for the newborn pile. Ostensibly for my friend who is due next month. But I'm not giving these clothes to her.
I truly don't know why. I know our chances are reasonable but not huge. 10-20% chance per cycle that I am allowed to go to trigger (which is far less than 50% on my track record thus far). Possibly a bit higher with IVF because they don't have to worry so much about how many follicles grow. Maybe I just want to pretend that I am a normal 28-year-old who can casually throw out at the playground that we'll be trying for another baby in the summer.
Or maybe it's because I realized while listening to the woman that there is no waffling in my plans: I want another baby. I want another pregnancy, I want another newborn. I am terrified of twins, I am worried of what another baby so soon would do to my career, I realize that both treatments and another high risk pregnancy will put stress on my marriage. I have convinced myself that since I felt great through the pregnancy and had an easy delivery the next one will be miserable. And despite all of that, I am certain. And because of that my heart is going to be broken if it doesn't happen, and one more bag of newborn clothes in the closet is not going to make it sting any more.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Classy parenting, part 2
I met a friend for dinner on Friday. Basically ran from work to pick the fusspot up at daycare and straight to dinner (this detail is relevant). While we were out she got a phone call about a rather stressful situation. Given her huge bump and the fact that her husband was out of town I decided to stay with her until everything was settled (cue ominous music).
The issue was resolved by midnight or so (the fusspot fell asleep on the couch hours before) but my friend didn't really want to be alone and I was a bit worried about her so I stayed around for a bit. Next time I looked at the clock it was already 2 am so she suggested we do a sleepover! Since the fusspot looked comfy and I had no clear plans for the following day I agreed. We stayed up eating chocolate bars and chatting until almost 4 am.
Which is all just to say that I happened to bump into a work colleague at 10 am Saturday wearing the exact same outfit I arrived at work in on Friday morning at 9 am. With unbrushed hair and teeth, of course. Nothing says classy like a walk 'o shame with a stroller in tow.
The issue was resolved by midnight or so (the fusspot fell asleep on the couch hours before) but my friend didn't really want to be alone and I was a bit worried about her so I stayed around for a bit. Next time I looked at the clock it was already 2 am so she suggested we do a sleepover! Since the fusspot looked comfy and I had no clear plans for the following day I agreed. We stayed up eating chocolate bars and chatting until almost 4 am.
Which is all just to say that I happened to bump into a work colleague at 10 am Saturday wearing the exact same outfit I arrived at work in on Friday morning at 9 am. With unbrushed hair and teeth, of course. Nothing says classy like a walk 'o shame with a stroller in tow.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
And just like that I'm back
Seriously, you guys are awesome. I have readers who I had no idea had ever been to my blog (hi Lindsey!) and while I do feel a bit guilty rambling on when two of my most favoritest bloggers are recovering from miscarriages (please send your love to May and Rachel), today was one of those days ...
I went to an ex-pats parenting event tonight. Mostly to talk to other mothers, but also because the event itself seemed quite nice and laid-back. Short presentations by a few parenting experts and then you could sign-up to meet with them one on one (needless to say the sleep expert was horrified we co-slept and the language expert was not in the least surprised to learn that the fusspot has no discernible language skills yet ...)
Except of course the event started late enough that everyone could put their children to bed and then head out. Which of course I can't do. So I brought the fusspot along. Only baby there, of course (not to mention the embarrassment of bringing your wide awake not-yet one year-old in for a consult with a sleep specialist at 10 pm. But wait, it gets better).
I set the fusspot down so I could pore myself a glass of wine ... and she started to crawl and promptly face planted. I returned to pouring my wine, being very much of the philosophy that if the parent doesn't panic the child will stay calm after falling, until the mother next to me pointed out that the fusspot was dripping blood. Cue nosebleed of the week. Of course, I immediately snuggled her and started nursing her to calm her down. Not a big deal, I had a change of clothes for her and she was grinning away in under a minute. Except of course I'd sat down to nurse her and my entire crotch was covered in blood. Yes, I spent a full two hours socializing and learning about different parenting philosophies with dried blood all over the 'lap' of my light gray pants. Oh yeah, and the fusspot was not exactly cooperative of having her face wiped so she spent the rest of the evening looking like bar-brawl-baby extraordinaire. Classy parenting fail, I tell you. You may not be shocked to learn that while my friends/acquaintances were very polite, I made no new friends tonight.
In celebration of an upcoming birthday and your kind comments, I think I will devote this entire week to cute fusspot stories. And then presumably back to travel tales/IF musings/medical adventures following.
I went to an ex-pats parenting event tonight. Mostly to talk to other mothers, but also because the event itself seemed quite nice and laid-back. Short presentations by a few parenting experts and then you could sign-up to meet with them one on one (needless to say the sleep expert was horrified we co-slept and the language expert was not in the least surprised to learn that the fusspot has no discernible language skills yet ...)
Except of course the event started late enough that everyone could put their children to bed and then head out. Which of course I can't do. So I brought the fusspot along. Only baby there, of course (not to mention the embarrassment of bringing your wide awake not-yet one year-old in for a consult with a sleep specialist at 10 pm. But wait, it gets better).
I set the fusspot down so I could pore myself a glass of wine ... and she started to crawl and promptly face planted. I returned to pouring my wine, being very much of the philosophy that if the parent doesn't panic the child will stay calm after falling, until the mother next to me pointed out that the fusspot was dripping blood. Cue nosebleed of the week. Of course, I immediately snuggled her and started nursing her to calm her down. Not a big deal, I had a change of clothes for her and she was grinning away in under a minute. Except of course I'd sat down to nurse her and my entire crotch was covered in blood. Yes, I spent a full two hours socializing and learning about different parenting philosophies with dried blood all over the 'lap' of my light gray pants. Oh yeah, and the fusspot was not exactly cooperative of having her face wiped so she spent the rest of the evening looking like bar-brawl-baby extraordinaire. Classy parenting fail, I tell you. You may not be shocked to learn that while my friends/acquaintances were very polite, I made no new friends tonight.
In celebration of an upcoming birthday and your kind comments, I think I will devote this entire week to cute fusspot stories. And then presumably back to travel tales/IF musings/medical adventures following.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Taking a break
Just a temporary break.
Nothing's wrong.
I've just run out of IF-related obsessing for the moment and I'm guessing that the vast majority of my readers are not interested in hearing about daily life with the fusspot. I have noticed a rather dramatic drop in readers/comments in the past month. And while I am not a blogger who is trying to draw a huge crowd, I do like knowing that there are a few ol' faithful readers following along. I may start posting again about life abroad (new socialized medical adventures coming up soon) or bilingual/biracial issues. Maybe in December, maybe later.
I will continue to read and comment and I hope to start blogging again soon - maybe when Project 2.0 is a bit closer (coming soon this spring: weaning! moving in with my husband! NYC fertility clinics!) or maybe just when I've had a full night's sleep and work is a bit less stressful.
Nothing's wrong.
I've just run out of IF-related obsessing for the moment and I'm guessing that the vast majority of my readers are not interested in hearing about daily life with the fusspot. I have noticed a rather dramatic drop in readers/comments in the past month. And while I am not a blogger who is trying to draw a huge crowd, I do like knowing that there are a few ol' faithful readers following along. I may start posting again about life abroad (new socialized medical adventures coming up soon) or bilingual/biracial issues. Maybe in December, maybe later.
I will continue to read and comment and I hope to start blogging again soon - maybe when Project 2.0 is a bit closer (coming soon this spring: weaning! moving in with my husband! NYC fertility clinics!) or maybe just when I've had a full night's sleep and work is a bit less stressful.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Continuing a trend
Things I am looking forward to when I can once again live with my husband:
- Having someone else to (help) clean up vomit-covered sheets
- Having access to a dryer
- Owning more than one set of sheets
Things I am grateful for tonight:
- A boarder who is happy to hold a vomit covered-baby while I strip the bed.
- Having someone else to (help) clean up vomit-covered sheets
- Having access to a dryer
- Owning more than one set of sheets
Things I am grateful for tonight:
- A boarder who is happy to hold a vomit covered-baby while I strip the bed.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Giving thanks
Today I am giving thanks that my beautiful perfect little girl is fine. Fine after a terrifying fall.
I almost didn't post about it. I went to dinner directly after the fall (in fact we were enroute to dinner when the accident happened) and I didn't mention it to anybody. I of course told JD, but he was completely distracted by work and doesn't seem to understand quite how serious it was. But this is both my record of my struggle to become a mother and my little with my daughter, and I don't want to skip over the terrible, horrible things that happen.
I had a work event which ran late so I asked a daughter's high school friend to pick the fusspot up from daycare. She was still in her stroller when I got home (and was running out to meet friends), so I just headed back out the door. The bus did not pull up to the curb so I had to lean the stroller all the way back to get it up onto the bus (think big heavy bugaboo and no one ever offers to help). I've done this thousands of times without a problem. Thousands.
But it never even crossed my mind that the babysitter might not have strapped the baby into the stroller (folks, she crawls. Time to break out the seatbelts). So when I tipped the stroller, the fusspot rolled out of the stroller and fell all the way onto the street. Concrete street. A good 2-3 feet.
I of course immediately dropped my attempt to maneuveur huge, heavy stroller onto the bus and grab my child (who was neither crying nor had dropped her toy during her tumble). And of course the bus driver makes off likes he's going to drive off with my stroller and purse and yells something about schedules. While my baby is lying in the street looking confused and about to cry. Luckily some young guy got the stroller and my bag off the bus and asked if we were ok before wandering off.
She was fine. Completely fine. No scratches, no bruises (she was very well padded with a cloth diaper and thick winter coat). After nursing for five minutes she sat up and grinned at everyone walking down the street.
I feel like I'm still shaking.
I almost didn't post about it. I went to dinner directly after the fall (in fact we were enroute to dinner when the accident happened) and I didn't mention it to anybody. I of course told JD, but he was completely distracted by work and doesn't seem to understand quite how serious it was. But this is both my record of my struggle to become a mother and my little with my daughter, and I don't want to skip over the terrible, horrible things that happen.
I had a work event which ran late so I asked a daughter's high school friend to pick the fusspot up from daycare. She was still in her stroller when I got home (and was running out to meet friends), so I just headed back out the door. The bus did not pull up to the curb so I had to lean the stroller all the way back to get it up onto the bus (think big heavy bugaboo and no one ever offers to help). I've done this thousands of times without a problem. Thousands.
But it never even crossed my mind that the babysitter might not have strapped the baby into the stroller (folks, she crawls. Time to break out the seatbelts). So when I tipped the stroller, the fusspot rolled out of the stroller and fell all the way onto the street. Concrete street. A good 2-3 feet.
I of course immediately dropped my attempt to maneuveur huge, heavy stroller onto the bus and grab my child (who was neither crying nor had dropped her toy during her tumble). And of course the bus driver makes off likes he's going to drive off with my stroller and purse and yells something about schedules. While my baby is lying in the street looking confused and about to cry. Luckily some young guy got the stroller and my bag off the bus and asked if we were ok before wandering off.
She was fine. Completely fine. No scratches, no bruises (she was very well padded with a cloth diaper and thick winter coat). After nursing for five minutes she sat up and grinned at everyone walking down the street.
I feel like I'm still shaking.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Not right
Something is not right in this ad (from pre.na.tal - the largest maternity and baby store here in Lalaland):
Hint: look at the third baby from the left and the second in from the right.
I know, I know lots of people have debated this tradition here. And plenty of people claim that there's nothing at all racist about putting babies in blackface. But honestly? It is about race and it's not right.
Hint: look at the third baby from the left and the second in from the right.
I know, I know lots of people have debated this tradition here. And plenty of people claim that there's nothing at all racist about putting babies in blackface. But honestly? It is about race and it's not right.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Gorgeous day
But first, a tale from the weekend.
The fusspot is a truly well-behaved baby. She was in her second museum of the day on Sunday when she started to fuss without any warning. I immediately sat down to try and feed her (which always calms her down) and a guard rushed over and told me I wasn't allowed to sit on the floor. Great. So I went rushing through the gallery to find someplace I could feed the baby but I had never been there before and didn't know where the exit was. While obviously flustered and walking very quickly and all because I was trying to exit, I turned a corner and a woman with a headset looked at me and the now-screaming fusspot and hissed: "I can't hear." Duh.
And just saying I had responded: "Good to know your parents kept you in a box. It explains a lot." would you think that was excessive? I mean really woman, it's obvious you can't hear your headset with a screaming baby in the room. I felt it was also obvious that I was walking very quickly and trying to get out of there.
And with no segway at all, pretty photos from tonight:
The fusspot is a truly well-behaved baby. She was in her second museum of the day on Sunday when she started to fuss without any warning. I immediately sat down to try and feed her (which always calms her down) and a guard rushed over and told me I wasn't allowed to sit on the floor. Great. So I went rushing through the gallery to find someplace I could feed the baby but I had never been there before and didn't know where the exit was. While obviously flustered and walking very quickly and all because I was trying to exit, I turned a corner and a woman with a headset looked at me and the now-screaming fusspot and hissed: "I can't hear." Duh.
And just saying I had responded: "Good to know your parents kept you in a box. It explains a lot." would you think that was excessive? I mean really woman, it's obvious you can't hear your headset with a screaming baby in the room. I felt it was also obvious that I was walking very quickly and trying to get out of there.
And with no segway at all, pretty photos from tonight:
Maclaren stroller recall
Apologies to those of you still waiting for your strollers, but I hadn't heard anything about this and everyone I know in the city owns a Maclaren. There's a recall out on all of them (http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/33787728/ns/health-kids_and_parenting/)
Here's a brief 'status of the stroller' in my household:
bugaboo: broken wheel rim, out of warranty, waiting for 2nd expensive replacement part
maclaren: recalled
snap 'n go: long outgrown
jogging stroller: 2000 miles away - not very useful
and while we're tallying: ergo - covered in snot and mashed up crackers but otherwise functioning
(For new readers, I purchased all of these used on craigslist except the ergo and jogging stroller which were gifts when friends outgrew them).
Here's a brief 'status of the stroller' in my household:
bugaboo: broken wheel rim, out of warranty, waiting for 2nd expensive replacement part
maclaren: recalled
snap 'n go: long outgrown
jogging stroller: 2000 miles away - not very useful
and while we're tallying: ergo - covered in snot and mashed up crackers but otherwise functioning
(For new readers, I purchased all of these used on craigslist except the ergo and jogging stroller which were gifts when friends outgrew them).
adventures in international parenting
So this weekend I had a one-day conference a couple of hours away (albeit in a different country). I posted a note online on a message board looking for a babysitter for the fusspot, but when JD (who is not the cautious one when it comes to her) asked: "You're really going to leave our baby with someone you've never met before in a foreign country? Someone you have no reference for at all?" I realized I needed a new plan.
And I found one which was perfect for the fusspot. I offered to pay for a good friend to take her 2 kids to the zoo in this unstated little country in exchange for bringing along my fusspot. Safe, secure, convenient.
Except, of course, she couldn't get out of the house early enough to just meet us there. Fine.
So the morning of the conference the fusspot and I left the house at 6:03 am. We walked all the way to the train station because I live in a tiny enough town that the buses don't run that early. We took a train to my friend's house, dropped the fusspot, sprinted back to the train station and got myself to the conference by 10 am. At 4 pm I sprinted from the conference to a bus, took a train to another city, picked up the fusspot at the zoo entrance, train back to conference-city, bus, reception at someone's apartment, and then we went out to a fancy dinner. At 8 pm.
Where there was no high chair, of course. The fusspot by this point had been up since 6 am. I did not have time to pump at the conference so I really wanted to feed her and she really wanted to eat. And we were seated next to one of the grumpiest, important men in my field of work. In a fancy restaurant.
Sitting semi-unclad at a Pa.ris.ian bistro has nothing on a B.el.gi.an fancy (did I mention it was fancy? think $30-40 entres) restaurant next to a professor who will probably be reviewing my work in the near future. But it worked, the fusspot fell asleep and I transferred her to her stroller.
And if only that were the end of the story. But twice she was woken up by people knocking into her stroller and I had to nurse her back to sleep. And then she woke up when we left the restaurant at 11 pm (yup, 11) and sleepily smiled at everyone and they all exclaimed what a good baby she was. And I was so proud of myself on the walk to the hotel (which also had no high chair at breakfast - more on the search for high chairs in Europe later).
And then at midnight when we were safely in the quiet of our own hotel room I took the fusspot out of her stroller ... and her diaper had leaked poo all over everything. Her onesie. Her back. The blanket. The bib. The stuffed animal. And that's when I knew I was the luckiest girl in the world - because I didn't pick my baby up when we left the restaurant and thus didn't have to deal with the mess in front of a crowd of old, grumpy men. Instead I am deeply thankful that I just let her sit in her own poo for an hour ... or possibly three?
And I found one which was perfect for the fusspot. I offered to pay for a good friend to take her 2 kids to the zoo in this unstated little country in exchange for bringing along my fusspot. Safe, secure, convenient.
Except, of course, she couldn't get out of the house early enough to just meet us there. Fine.
So the morning of the conference the fusspot and I left the house at 6:03 am. We walked all the way to the train station because I live in a tiny enough town that the buses don't run that early. We took a train to my friend's house, dropped the fusspot, sprinted back to the train station and got myself to the conference by 10 am. At 4 pm I sprinted from the conference to a bus, took a train to another city, picked up the fusspot at the zoo entrance, train back to conference-city, bus, reception at someone's apartment, and then we went out to a fancy dinner. At 8 pm.
Where there was no high chair, of course. The fusspot by this point had been up since 6 am. I did not have time to pump at the conference so I really wanted to feed her and she really wanted to eat. And we were seated next to one of the grumpiest, important men in my field of work. In a fancy restaurant.
Sitting semi-unclad at a Pa.ris.ian bistro has nothing on a B.el.gi.an fancy (did I mention it was fancy? think $30-40 entres) restaurant next to a professor who will probably be reviewing my work in the near future. But it worked, the fusspot fell asleep and I transferred her to her stroller.
And if only that were the end of the story. But twice she was woken up by people knocking into her stroller and I had to nurse her back to sleep. And then she woke up when we left the restaurant at 11 pm (yup, 11) and sleepily smiled at everyone and they all exclaimed what a good baby she was. And I was so proud of myself on the walk to the hotel (which also had no high chair at breakfast - more on the search for high chairs in Europe later).
And then at midnight when we were safely in the quiet of our own hotel room I took the fusspot out of her stroller ... and her diaper had leaked poo all over everything. Her onesie. Her back. The blanket. The bib. The stuffed animal. And that's when I knew I was the luckiest girl in the world - because I didn't pick my baby up when we left the restaurant and thus didn't have to deal with the mess in front of a crowd of old, grumpy men. Instead I am deeply thankful that I just let her sit in her own poo for an hour ... or possibly three?
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Back again
from the land where they had the brilliant idea to serve rich, choclatey hot chocolate with both a cookie and a dark chocolate on the side. Quite brilliant.
ps - any guesses?
ps - any guesses?
Friday, November 6, 2009
Another bad piece of reporting
This type of article just pisses me off. In total it states that home fetal monitors may be dangerous because women receive false assurance that everything is ok and don't seek medical attention.
Any woman who has dealt with a high-risk pregnancy can tell you that 99% of the time that you call the doctor/midwife/receptionist/IF clinic with 'concern's they will tell you to wait and call back in a day ... or two ... or longer ... and that's even presuming you can get in touch with anyone.
I know. I had a baby who refused to kick. For weeks and weeks and weeks. And every 48 hours when I'd call to check in the midwife would tell me to call back 'if there was no movement in 48 hours' ... repeated ad nauseum throughout my entire honeymoon. For the record, within 2 minutes of my feeling movement JD could also feel it (and the placenta was not in a weird position - it was checked many times). And every new doctor/nurse/student in the GD clinic would tell me to call if I couldn't get a kick count of 10 by 10 am. I never got a kick count of ten when pregnant with the fusspot. Not one single day.
I think not getting a fetal monitor was one of my biggest regrets. I wasted so many, many hours not just stressing but waiting on hold and endlessly repeating my address and callback number and insurance info. Should I ever have the chance to be pregnant again, I"ll be ordering one right after my beta (I never did get a beta last time either ...)
Any woman who has dealt with a high-risk pregnancy can tell you that 99% of the time that you call the doctor/midwife/receptionist/IF clinic with 'concern's they will tell you to wait and call back in a day ... or two ... or longer ... and that's even presuming you can get in touch with anyone.
I know. I had a baby who refused to kick. For weeks and weeks and weeks. And every 48 hours when I'd call to check in the midwife would tell me to call back 'if there was no movement in 48 hours' ... repeated ad nauseum throughout my entire honeymoon. For the record, within 2 minutes of my feeling movement JD could also feel it (and the placenta was not in a weird position - it was checked many times). And every new doctor/nurse/student in the GD clinic would tell me to call if I couldn't get a kick count of 10 by 10 am. I never got a kick count of ten when pregnant with the fusspot. Not one single day.
I think not getting a fetal monitor was one of my biggest regrets. I wasted so many, many hours not just stressing but waiting on hold and endlessly repeating my address and callback number and insurance info. Should I ever have the chance to be pregnant again, I"ll be ordering one right after my beta (I never did get a beta last time either ...)
Now where were we?
Right. No computer for 9 days. I can't even tell you how unfortunate that is under the current circumstances: no talking to JD, working by hand all day long, no blogs, no music at dinner, walking 30 minutes to the apple store every day to check my e-mail (there are no more internet cafes in my little city), no playdates/drinks because I can't make plans with anyone ...
But we are through the darkness, folks. 9 days, 100 euros, and 2 loud temper tantrums later my believed laptop has a new harddrive (yes, it's under warranty. The 100 euros were for an 'express' warranty service. 'Express'=9 days????)
A few tidbits from my absence:
- The fusspot is now crawling, pulling up, and the proud wearer of 3 teeth.
- I have slept a combined 4 hours in the past 2 nights.
- I actually went upstairs and offered my boarder earplugs at 3 am yesterday night.
- I also carried the fusspot in her stroller up and down 91 flights of stairs in the metro. The Pa.r.is metro, to be precise.
- Pa.r.is has the very best goo.dw.ill stores ever. The fusspot now has 4 designer French dresses at $3 a piece. Such fun.
- I can now say that I have sat in the front window of an elegant restaurant in an elegant city with my shirt half off. If your baby had finally fallen asleep at 9 pm after a napless day and all you wanted was to drink a glass of white wine before she woke up, you would have too.
- She screamed her way through her first carousel ride. I loved it. I love carousels, even while holding a displeased baby.
- Snap happy tourists stopped me at least 10 times during our mini-vacation to ask if they could photograph my baby. Little thoughts like this are not just boasting, but necessary to get me through the long, slow, tedious process of teething combined with an awful cold (the fusspot) and a sore throat and headache (me).
- My much beloved and previously lauded bumgenius diapers are in trouble. Serious black mold spot trouble on the outside PUL part of three of them. Any advice much appreciated. Definitely planning to call customer service tonight.
- The good news is that we've now had a poo-free-diaper week. And several quite dry diapers. My baby may not sign, talk, or move very much but she is a potty-super star. Ah well, I guess we all have our strengths.
- My milk supply is dropping. Could be exhaustion, could be that the fusspot is eating so much food now. But the daycare wants two full bottles - no matter what (she is the only child getting breastmilk there, so they really don't believe that she doesn't need 10 oz of pumped milk in an 8 hour day).
- I thought I would be devastated by prior item. I would be had I not found the most incredible local, lightly pasteurized organic farmers milk at market. The first day I found it I drank a liter and then went back to buy 3 more. I am quite sure the fusspot will love it (lightly pasteurizing doesn't break up the fat as much so it tastes sweeter - someone not from Lalaland please tell me that this is safe - everyone here thinks it is).
- The local, organic milk stand also sells local, organic chocolate pudding. I just had it for breakfast and now I'm off to a 10 minute power nap and then work. Local, organic chocolate pudding is the best breakfast ever.
But we are through the darkness, folks. 9 days, 100 euros, and 2 loud temper tantrums later my believed laptop has a new harddrive (yes, it's under warranty. The 100 euros were for an 'express' warranty service. 'Express'=9 days????)
A few tidbits from my absence:
- The fusspot is now crawling, pulling up, and the proud wearer of 3 teeth.
- I have slept a combined 4 hours in the past 2 nights.
- I actually went upstairs and offered my boarder earplugs at 3 am yesterday night.
- I also carried the fusspot in her stroller up and down 91 flights of stairs in the metro. The Pa.r.is metro, to be precise.
- Pa.r.is has the very best goo.dw.ill stores ever. The fusspot now has 4 designer French dresses at $3 a piece. Such fun.
- I can now say that I have sat in the front window of an elegant restaurant in an elegant city with my shirt half off. If your baby had finally fallen asleep at 9 pm after a napless day and all you wanted was to drink a glass of white wine before she woke up, you would have too.
- She screamed her way through her first carousel ride. I loved it. I love carousels, even while holding a displeased baby.
- Snap happy tourists stopped me at least 10 times during our mini-vacation to ask if they could photograph my baby. Little thoughts like this are not just boasting, but necessary to get me through the long, slow, tedious process of teething combined with an awful cold (the fusspot) and a sore throat and headache (me).
- My much beloved and previously lauded bumgenius diapers are in trouble. Serious black mold spot trouble on the outside PUL part of three of them. Any advice much appreciated. Definitely planning to call customer service tonight.
- The good news is that we've now had a poo-free-diaper week. And several quite dry diapers. My baby may not sign, talk, or move very much but she is a potty-super star. Ah well, I guess we all have our strengths.
- My milk supply is dropping. Could be exhaustion, could be that the fusspot is eating so much food now. But the daycare wants two full bottles - no matter what (she is the only child getting breastmilk there, so they really don't believe that she doesn't need 10 oz of pumped milk in an 8 hour day).
- I thought I would be devastated by prior item. I would be had I not found the most incredible local, lightly pasteurized organic farmers milk at market. The first day I found it I drank a liter and then went back to buy 3 more. I am quite sure the fusspot will love it (lightly pasteurizing doesn't break up the fat as much so it tastes sweeter - someone not from Lalaland please tell me that this is safe - everyone here thinks it is).
- The local, organic milk stand also sells local, organic chocolate pudding. I just had it for breakfast and now I'm off to a 10 minute power nap and then work. Local, organic chocolate pudding is the best breakfast ever.
Friday, October 30, 2009
No stroller; no internets
We are doing fine, really.
But my stroller is broken and my computer needs a new harddrive.
I do not expect to post again until I have it back.
Back in 2-3 weeks according to apple in Lalaland.
But my stroller is broken and my computer needs a new harddrive.
I do not expect to post again until I have it back.
Back in 2-3 weeks according to apple in Lalaland.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Cutting off her career choices already
I am a huge lover of go.odwill, yard sales, cra.ig.slist, and dumpster shopping (the source of a good 80% of JD and my furniture) but I just couldn't grab this clean, newish-looking playset off the street near my apartment.
It's not that I have anything against pretend play or fine fast food chefs, but I just couldn't quite wrap my head around how I would explain this to JD:
It's not that I have anything against pretend play or fine fast food chefs, but I just couldn't quite wrap my head around how I would explain this to JD:
Sunday, October 25, 2009
New topics
Time for new and more positive topics.
1. Weight loss. I'm pretty sure that I've finally hit my goal of 140, if not a bit less (no scale to be found to confirm). I am back in my pre-pregnancy pants and they are actually getting rather loose. Sadly I'm pretty sure this trick will be hard to replicate in the U.S., and especially in NYC. Quite simply, food here in Lalaland is pretty bleak, especially for a kosher-family with a strong penchant for really spicy ethnic food. So everything is bland and expensive and the produce is really bad so I haven't been snacking as much. And of course we're on foot all the time here. The fusspot and I probably spend at least an hour a day walking - 15 minutes each way to drop her at daycare and then another 15 minutes to pick her up, 10 each way to work, 15 if I go to the university, another 10 to the supermarket ... it adds up really quickly. And it is rather remarkable that in my little city there are no obese people and only a handful of plump ones. Really, truly. It's certainly not because the food is healthier here because if anything they eat either super-rich meat stuff or carbs, carbs, carbs and fruits and veggies are really expensive and hard to find (i.e. couldn't find either avocado or sweet potatos for weeks here when I was looking for good first baby foods). Also low-carb or sugar-free items are basically non-existent. So I credit the bland and boring and lack of public transport through the middle of my pre-modern city with the weight loss. No easy solutions for anyone still struggling.
2. the big trip is ON. And I am in full-out planning mode:
- scheduled consult with travel doc for me (trying to figure out if japan.ese en.ce.phali.tis vax is safe while breastfeeding)
- contacted the fusspot's ped about early vaccines (anyone know about getting Dtap early?) [If you're wondering, we vaccinate. Fully. Mostly on schedule. We're science people - science gave us our beautiful fusspot and we believe in our social responsibility to those who cannot be vaccinated. If you want to read what I consider a very-well written post on the subject by someone far more articulate than I, I'd recommend the second post down by City Girl Tales and following the links at the bottom].
- found place to store our personal effects while on said trip
- found plane tickets (to be purchased tomorrow)
- asked friend to buy train tickets to incredible, fabulous places such as this and this (and told her she had to find a carseat for our visit - she's already acquired one)
- started puzzling over how exactly to get a visa since I cannot hand over my passport for any period of time (although the fusspot and I are now both legal residents of Lalaland!!!). Any suggestions on getting a visa to the land-of-backpackers when you are not resident in the USA?
I know this post is dull, so here's the new excitement on the walk to the fusspot's daycare. It cracks us up every time we pass it (which may suggest we don't have the most sophisticated senses of humor between us):
(In case you can't tell, the digger is floating on a barge in the canal in front of the fusspot's daycare).
1. Weight loss. I'm pretty sure that I've finally hit my goal of 140, if not a bit less (no scale to be found to confirm). I am back in my pre-pregnancy pants and they are actually getting rather loose. Sadly I'm pretty sure this trick will be hard to replicate in the U.S., and especially in NYC. Quite simply, food here in Lalaland is pretty bleak, especially for a kosher-family with a strong penchant for really spicy ethnic food. So everything is bland and expensive and the produce is really bad so I haven't been snacking as much. And of course we're on foot all the time here. The fusspot and I probably spend at least an hour a day walking - 15 minutes each way to drop her at daycare and then another 15 minutes to pick her up, 10 each way to work, 15 if I go to the university, another 10 to the supermarket ... it adds up really quickly. And it is rather remarkable that in my little city there are no obese people and only a handful of plump ones. Really, truly. It's certainly not because the food is healthier here because if anything they eat either super-rich meat stuff or carbs, carbs, carbs and fruits and veggies are really expensive and hard to find (i.e. couldn't find either avocado or sweet potatos for weeks here when I was looking for good first baby foods). Also low-carb or sugar-free items are basically non-existent. So I credit the bland and boring and lack of public transport through the middle of my pre-modern city with the weight loss. No easy solutions for anyone still struggling.
2. the big trip is ON. And I am in full-out planning mode:
- scheduled consult with travel doc for me (trying to figure out if japan.ese en.ce.phali.tis vax is safe while breastfeeding)
- contacted the fusspot's ped about early vaccines (anyone know about getting Dtap early?) [If you're wondering, we vaccinate. Fully. Mostly on schedule. We're science people - science gave us our beautiful fusspot and we believe in our social responsibility to those who cannot be vaccinated. If you want to read what I consider a very-well written post on the subject by someone far more articulate than I, I'd recommend the second post down by City Girl Tales and following the links at the bottom].
- found place to store our personal effects while on said trip
- found plane tickets (to be purchased tomorrow)
- asked friend to buy train tickets to incredible, fabulous places such as this and this (and told her she had to find a carseat for our visit - she's already acquired one)
- started puzzling over how exactly to get a visa since I cannot hand over my passport for any period of time (although the fusspot and I are now both legal residents of Lalaland!!!). Any suggestions on getting a visa to the land-of-backpackers when you are not resident in the USA?
I know this post is dull, so here's the new excitement on the walk to the fusspot's daycare. It cracks us up every time we pass it (which may suggest we don't have the most sophisticated senses of humor between us):
(In case you can't tell, the digger is floating on a barge in the canal in front of the fusspot's daycare).
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Struggling
In case it's not apparent by the silence over here, I'm struggling this week.
When people ask me about single parenting I'm usually all rainbows! and unicorns! and my husband works 70 hours a week anyway! so he does not ever have time to help. Whee! And the truth is that it usually is just fine.
And then a little thing little 2 teeth (her first) throws the whole thing out of balance. And it's really not so much the sleep and related diaper rash and waking up every 2 hours to nurse her back to sleep as much as the criticism. Basically everyone I know thinks I ought to just let her CIO. Let alone that we co-sleep so I have no idea how that would work (do I flee to the couch when she wakes up mid-night?) Oh, and the terrifying fear that I'm just not getting enough work done and that my 'sacrificing' my sleep is actually going to hurt my work.
I just wish I could get a little more support for my parenting choices because 95% of the time they work well for us. But I keep hearing echos of "you're making it harder for yourself" from my mother and husband (and always MIL but she's not exactly my parenting model at the moment despite being a wonderful, loving mother). Yes, it's awful that the fusspot wants to be nursed back to sleep whenever she wakes up. But it is so much easier for me than walking her (we have no rocking chair here) and I have yet to find anything else that works (and I have tried quite a few things, including in desperation one night allowing her to mash bread and cheese into the bed just because I needed to check that she wasn't actually hungry).
I know that my productivity is lower when she wakes up multiple times during the night. And I really count on being able to do housework from 8 to 9 pm and then put in 3-4 more hours of work before going to bed myself. But I just don't see an easy solution. I don't have anyone I can share the night-parenting with and I'm just not ready to leave my baby alone in a dark room screaming her head off (and this is not a criticism of anyone who has chosen CIO. I have worked/lived with families who used it very successfully. I just don't see it as the right choice for the fusspot and I at the moment).
The absurd thing is that she is truly a great sleeper when not sick or teething. From the moment I get into bed until I wake up she usually sleeps without interruption - something like 12am/1am to 8 am. And most nights she also sleeps from 8 pm until midnight, waking up perhaps once. So I really oughtn't to be complaining except that I need those hours from 8 pm to midnight to work, and I also need my 7-8 hours of sleep. And except for one new friend here (a SAHM extended breastfeeder, if you get my drift) and one long-time friend who also did not work, I get nothing but criticism for my choice to breastfeed/cosleep/use the "baby lead weaning" method to feed the fussopt (oh the mess every night!)/cloth diaper and do EC. And maybe I am just making it harder for myself - beats me.
When people ask me about single parenting I'm usually all rainbows! and unicorns! and my husband works 70 hours a week anyway! so he does not ever have time to help. Whee! And the truth is that it usually is just fine.
And then a little thing little 2 teeth (her first) throws the whole thing out of balance. And it's really not so much the sleep and related diaper rash and waking up every 2 hours to nurse her back to sleep as much as the criticism. Basically everyone I know thinks I ought to just let her CIO. Let alone that we co-sleep so I have no idea how that would work (do I flee to the couch when she wakes up mid-night?) Oh, and the terrifying fear that I'm just not getting enough work done and that my 'sacrificing' my sleep is actually going to hurt my work.
I just wish I could get a little more support for my parenting choices because 95% of the time they work well for us. But I keep hearing echos of "you're making it harder for yourself" from my mother and husband (and always MIL but she's not exactly my parenting model at the moment despite being a wonderful, loving mother). Yes, it's awful that the fusspot wants to be nursed back to sleep whenever she wakes up. But it is so much easier for me than walking her (we have no rocking chair here) and I have yet to find anything else that works (and I have tried quite a few things, including in desperation one night allowing her to mash bread and cheese into the bed just because I needed to check that she wasn't actually hungry).
I know that my productivity is lower when she wakes up multiple times during the night. And I really count on being able to do housework from 8 to 9 pm and then put in 3-4 more hours of work before going to bed myself. But I just don't see an easy solution. I don't have anyone I can share the night-parenting with and I'm just not ready to leave my baby alone in a dark room screaming her head off (and this is not a criticism of anyone who has chosen CIO. I have worked/lived with families who used it very successfully. I just don't see it as the right choice for the fusspot and I at the moment).
The absurd thing is that she is truly a great sleeper when not sick or teething. From the moment I get into bed until I wake up she usually sleeps without interruption - something like 12am/1am to 8 am. And most nights she also sleeps from 8 pm until midnight, waking up perhaps once. So I really oughtn't to be complaining except that I need those hours from 8 pm to midnight to work, and I also need my 7-8 hours of sleep. And except for one new friend here (a SAHM extended breastfeeder, if you get my drift) and one long-time friend who also did not work, I get nothing but criticism for my choice to breastfeed/cosleep/use the "baby lead weaning" method to feed the fussopt (oh the mess every night!)/cloth diaper and do EC. And maybe I am just making it harder for myself - beats me.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
my beautiful baby
is not always welcome. And it makes me so mad.
The Jewish community in my little town in Lalaland is tiny. Tiny enough to only hold services once a month. The fusspot and I walked in yesterday morning for the first time and literally the very first thing that the president's wife said to me when I sat down was:
"A bit oriental looking, isn't she [for a Jewish baby]?" (my translation, of course)
I wish that I had profound thoughts to share on the matter, just like I wish I had more profound thoughts on gender expectations, but the truth is that I am often just relieved that the fusspot is too young to understand what's going on. Of course, that's not exactly a long-term strategy for dealing with this. My grandparents were rather racist and I am well aware that racist people can otherwise be wonderful and kind. I also know that this community went through so much during the war and they feel extraordinarily threatened (as they will should) that they will be the last generation of observant Jews in Lalaland. And of course the fusspot and I were the only two people under 30 in the building. But it still just feels like a dagger-filled wall that is thrown up the moment we walk into certain places and I struggle with wondering whether we oughtn't to protect the fusspot by not placing her in such situations, or whether we ought to blindly flail our way through in the faith that we still belong in the community I was raised in.
The Jewish community in my little town in Lalaland is tiny. Tiny enough to only hold services once a month. The fusspot and I walked in yesterday morning for the first time and literally the very first thing that the president's wife said to me when I sat down was:
"A bit oriental looking, isn't she [for a Jewish baby]?" (my translation, of course)
I wish that I had profound thoughts to share on the matter, just like I wish I had more profound thoughts on gender expectations, but the truth is that I am often just relieved that the fusspot is too young to understand what's going on. Of course, that's not exactly a long-term strategy for dealing with this. My grandparents were rather racist and I am well aware that racist people can otherwise be wonderful and kind. I also know that this community went through so much during the war and they feel extraordinarily threatened (as they will should) that they will be the last generation of observant Jews in Lalaland. And of course the fusspot and I were the only two people under 30 in the building. But it still just feels like a dagger-filled wall that is thrown up the moment we walk into certain places and I struggle with wondering whether we oughtn't to protect the fusspot by not placing her in such situations, or whether we ought to blindly flail our way through in the faith that we still belong in the community I was raised in.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Just venting
I know my life is charmed and all, but still:
1. My in-laws are visiting.
2. My beloved bugaboo is broke. Out $100 and a good 2 weeks wait at least. Potentially due to the activities of person in item #1. Anyways, I need two new wheels. Which can only be shipped to the U.S. (I have an old model, although it still strikes me as odd since I live in the land of bugaboos), and then shipped to me. Oh, at $30 a piece.
3. I've snapped more than is reasonable for a 4-day visit. Although I do occasionally feel justified. Like when I randomly wandered into the kitchen yesterday night to discover someone (in #1) had taken chicken and beef out of the fridge and put it on the counter (next to the radiator) to defrost until dinner tonight (so, say, 20 hours?). Not safe folks. Not safe at all.
4. While trying to fix item #2 I found out my credit card has been cut off. Apparently I forgot to pay last month's $25 bill. But in this great financial climate before I could just 'pay the balance in full' (go extravagant me) I had to choose from a pull-down list of excuses for being late (none of which included absentmindedness but they did have both 'laid off' and 'no income' separately) and then provide an estimated date at which I can pay the full amount (now. last month. next month. I should perhaps add that this is my 'play money' credit card and our monthly joint account bill is significantly higher than $25). I finally gave up and called the company because it seemed like a lie to answer the questions.
5. As a result of said credit card being cut off I could not complete the phone call because my skype account is also disconnected. Whee!
6. I try to plan one weekend trip/visit every month to break up the frustrations of living alone with a non-verbal, not-fully-toilet-trained, immobile (but adorable) companion. I had made theoretical plans for next month, but it turns out the friend I was going to visit is moving continents. Whoops.
In conclusion, truly all is well but I am rather grumpy.
Clearly I posted too soon. 2 additions:
7. In case it is not clear to my dear readers, I do the organizing in JD and my life. A very underappreciated task. JD called yesterday to ask how I got such good bargains on car rentals because he has to go to a wedding this weekend -the save the date for which has been on our fridge for at least 4 months- and he can't find a good deal. Needless to say my 'bargains' are found by booking more than 48 hours in advance, so we're out over $100 for a one-day rental and tangentially JD won't be able to have so much as a drop to drink at the wedding given that he's driving a rental car.
8. I mentioned to persons in item #1 casually how they NEED to get the fusspot's carseat installed properly before we next visit the U.S. Blank stares. And really, I don't have much more to say other than the fact that I. will. NOT. be visiting them until they can take 20 minutes and get the carseat installed, base and all. And I also will not be getting in their car if they show up at the airport without the carseat installed (clearly JD could just read the manual and do it, but barring that they need to swing by the dealership or the police station or a big box store and ask for help. I can't exactly figure it out from a continent away).
9. I am a huge fan of potluck dinners, especially for busy moms. BUT, I'm not such a fan of throwing a potluck dinner and then asking the last person who rsvp'd to bring the main entre (suggestions?) Of course, given that last Sunday's lunch was an unmitigated disaster, I'm not sure exactly what I should have offered to bring. Let's just say I grabbed a bottle of wine someone had brought to my apartment, it was duly acknowledged and placed on the table, and then when it came time to sit down and eat the host took one look at the bottle, and put it away. The hostess then inquired why we weren't opening it, to which he replied with a withering glower. And in retrospect, the acquaintance who brought it over is a bit cheap, so it's possible that I showed up to a lovely Sunday lunch and offered up something a little more gauche than 2-buck-chuck. Brilliant.
1. My in-laws are visiting.
2. My beloved bugaboo is broke. Out $100 and a good 2 weeks wait at least. Potentially due to the activities of person in item #1. Anyways, I need two new wheels. Which can only be shipped to the U.S. (I have an old model, although it still strikes me as odd since I live in the land of bugaboos), and then shipped to me. Oh, at $30 a piece.
3. I've snapped more than is reasonable for a 4-day visit. Although I do occasionally feel justified. Like when I randomly wandered into the kitchen yesterday night to discover someone (in #1) had taken chicken and beef out of the fridge and put it on the counter (next to the radiator) to defrost until dinner tonight (so, say, 20 hours?). Not safe folks. Not safe at all.
4. While trying to fix item #2 I found out my credit card has been cut off. Apparently I forgot to pay last month's $25 bill. But in this great financial climate before I could just 'pay the balance in full' (go extravagant me) I had to choose from a pull-down list of excuses for being late (none of which included absentmindedness but they did have both 'laid off' and 'no income' separately) and then provide an estimated date at which I can pay the full amount (now. last month. next month. I should perhaps add that this is my 'play money' credit card and our monthly joint account bill is significantly higher than $25). I finally gave up and called the company because it seemed like a lie to answer the questions.
5. As a result of said credit card being cut off I could not complete the phone call because my skype account is also disconnected. Whee!
6. I try to plan one weekend trip/visit every month to break up the frustrations of living alone with a non-verbal, not-fully-toilet-trained, immobile (but adorable) companion. I had made theoretical plans for next month, but it turns out the friend I was going to visit is moving continents. Whoops.
In conclusion, truly all is well but I am rather grumpy.
Clearly I posted too soon. 2 additions:
7. In case it is not clear to my dear readers, I do the organizing in JD and my life. A very underappreciated task. JD called yesterday to ask how I got such good bargains on car rentals because he has to go to a wedding this weekend -the save the date for which has been on our fridge for at least 4 months- and he can't find a good deal. Needless to say my 'bargains' are found by booking more than 48 hours in advance, so we're out over $100 for a one-day rental and tangentially JD won't be able to have so much as a drop to drink at the wedding given that he's driving a rental car.
8. I mentioned to persons in item #1 casually how they NEED to get the fusspot's carseat installed properly before we next visit the U.S. Blank stares. And really, I don't have much more to say other than the fact that I. will. NOT. be visiting them until they can take 20 minutes and get the carseat installed, base and all. And I also will not be getting in their car if they show up at the airport without the carseat installed (clearly JD could just read the manual and do it, but barring that they need to swing by the dealership or the police station or a big box store and ask for help. I can't exactly figure it out from a continent away).
9. I am a huge fan of potluck dinners, especially for busy moms. BUT, I'm not such a fan of throwing a potluck dinner and then asking the last person who rsvp'd to bring the main entre (suggestions?) Of course, given that last Sunday's lunch was an unmitigated disaster, I'm not sure exactly what I should have offered to bring. Let's just say I grabbed a bottle of wine someone had brought to my apartment, it was duly acknowledged and placed on the table, and then when it came time to sit down and eat the host took one look at the bottle, and put it away. The hostess then inquired why we weren't opening it, to which he replied with a withering glower. And in retrospect, the acquaintance who brought it over is a bit cheap, so it's possible that I showed up to a lovely Sunday lunch and offered up something a little more gauche than 2-buck-chuck. Brilliant.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Project 2.0 hits a brick wall
but just maybe things are looking up?
Long-time readers (hi Carrie! hi Rachel! hi Ms. J! Guys, I love having more long-time readers than I can easily name check on a single line - you are awesome) may be aware that I am a bit obsessive. So even though Project 2.0 is still many months and one trans-Atlantic move away, I still thought it would cheer me up to figure out the details when I was back stateside.
Hence began the awful game: IF clinic phone tag.
Extra bonus: Balancing 2 clinics at once, do not dare let this be known be either.
Handicap: A cell phone battery which only lasts about 5 minutes and endless friends/relatives visiting/eavesdropping.
Note: 3+ weeks later we're still waiting to get all of our questions answered.
In brief, the clinic in City Y would be happy to let us cycle with them long-distance. They'll let me know what lab work needs to be done, charge us their low flat rate for the cycle even though I'm a l-o-n-g stimmer, and they are happy to follow our earlier protocol.
Downsides: having to live in City Y for 1-3 weeks (which is to say I am seriously considering crashing on the couch of a single guy buddy of JD's with my fusspot in tow while shooting myself up with drugs. Alone. In a city I have no connection to. Yeah, we're not exactly your traditional couple), having to buy a last minute ticket back up to NYC depending on how long I stim, realizing that we may be a bit more risk adverse this time around (see previous posts on twins).
Big Apple clinic: Happy to take me as a patient, fine with a 'natural inter.c.ourse cycle.' Rates are truly affordable for NYC: $450 for the initial consult. $200 for every ultrasound (and every. single. ultrasound. has to be done at their office - even though I get free ultrasounds elsewhere in the city. They justify this by basically not charging for the consults mid-cycle, which I'm guessing also means you don't actually see the doctor mid-cycle - they supervise from afar while running between their IVF patients with fixed rates per cycle). Still unclear if they will restrict where my meds come from (Po.rt.la.nd Pharmacy is not approved of by all clinics, even though it is full reputable) and will allow bloodwork elsewhere. Estimated cost of a cycle given my stimming history: $3300 plus meds - so around $5000 with meds and co-pays on lab draws. (And yes, we will pay every penny of that ourselves. Whee!)
Downsides: Cost, dealing with a new clinic (nurse dear, if I say that I have NO NO NO cycle do not send me paperwork which calls for CD3 labwork. I have NO NO NO cycle. I will not be able to identify a lovely CD3 for you. And while we're at it, don't suggest I use bcps to 'restart my cycle' when I already noted that I am one of those incredible women who can take standard bcps and not bleed during the placebo weeks. Same for prog.est.er.one to induce bleeding while we're at it. That's why I mailed you my medical file, darlin'. And anyway, pumping your body full of artificial hormones doesn't lead to the most representative lab results, ya know?).
And all seemed to be well in the world. And all of the cosmos were shifting so that early May might just be a possibility (oh how I hope my pox scars have faded by then ...) until chipper down South IVF coordinator says something about "And of course that will be at least six months since you weaned the fusspot, right?"
Screech.
Six months??????
So I called Big Apple clinic to ask their policy. Silence. Followed by silence. Followed by more silence (and yes, that's 4 separate voicemails asking the same question, for the record. Including one left by JD, which cheered me up immensely).
Now given how many of my friends have gotten pregnant while breastfeeding, I know that it is on occasion possible. And LLL has all sorts of testimonials about women who cycled (albeit not injectables while bf). Not that I was dreaming of that (and for the record, don't read their webpages. They are filled with testimonials which read like this: I was 45, infertile, nursing my 3-year-old-conceived-through-IVF and trying to decide whether I should end this beautiful nursing relationship to cycle again when POOF! I got pg on my own. Just like that. And now I can tandem nurse forever).
It's just that I really don't want to have to wean the fusspot alone. Or before she turns 18 months. Or close to 18 months? I realize it's possible and all, but my friends who have had an easy time weaning have used the 'don't offer, don't refuse' method which relies on a handy-dandy third party -let's just imagine husband/partner for many couples- to help break some of the associations, so do things like put the fusspot to bed or take her out of the bath (bathing makes my baby exceedingly hungry. Beats me). And I just don't want to have to go through all of that alone, with a baby pawing away at my clothes (my military friend who weaned when her husband was away said she literally could not take her bra off for a full 2 weeks - in bed, in the shower, or her daughter would go crazy trying to get to the source).
And then there's the whole wild trip to someplace awesome (which starts with an I and ends with an -ndia), which my pediatrician is totally fine with as long as the fusspot is bf.
So here was my fantasy: wean in May, cycle in June. But when you add an extra 6 months in ... it just doesn't look the same.
Clinic #1 has offered to test my prolactin every month and let me start cycling as soon as it's low enough once the fusspot is fully weaned. But since that would mean a full lab work up, than 20 days of bcps, then a bleed and then stims ... we're still looking at a long delay (my original plan was to start bcps simultaneous with full-on weaning attempts on the thought that the meds lower milk production anyway and wouldn't be dangerous in small doses for a month for the fusspot).
Clinic #2: crickets.
But now I have to decide: wean the fusspot while living alone, and pre-big trip, and much, much closer to 12 months than I ever dreamed of. Or deal with a mid-summer start date at the earliest, and a possible delay until the fall. And of course there's the advice of all 3 REs who have treated me to be very careful not to add age into my laundry list of complications. So I love the idea of being able to cycle again before 30. And yes, I'll just admit it here: the thought of weaning the fusspot early on to face months of labwork and canceled cycles has warmed even my cold, barren heart towards the idea of twins just a bit (there I've said it).
Anyway, IF sucks and I unfortunately just finished my candy bar while writing this so I'm off to scour the kitchen for more chocolate. Any other coping techniques/advice much appreciated.
Long-time readers (hi Carrie! hi Rachel! hi Ms. J! Guys, I love having more long-time readers than I can easily name check on a single line - you are awesome) may be aware that I am a bit obsessive. So even though Project 2.0 is still many months and one trans-Atlantic move away, I still thought it would cheer me up to figure out the details when I was back stateside.
Hence began the awful game: IF clinic phone tag.
Extra bonus: Balancing 2 clinics at once, do not dare let this be known be either.
Handicap: A cell phone battery which only lasts about 5 minutes and endless friends/relatives visiting/eavesdropping.
Note: 3+ weeks later we're still waiting to get all of our questions answered.
In brief, the clinic in City Y would be happy to let us cycle with them long-distance. They'll let me know what lab work needs to be done, charge us their low flat rate for the cycle even though I'm a l-o-n-g stimmer, and they are happy to follow our earlier protocol.
Downsides: having to live in City Y for 1-3 weeks (which is to say I am seriously considering crashing on the couch of a single guy buddy of JD's with my fusspot in tow while shooting myself up with drugs. Alone. In a city I have no connection to. Yeah, we're not exactly your traditional couple), having to buy a last minute ticket back up to NYC depending on how long I stim, realizing that we may be a bit more risk adverse this time around (see previous posts on twins).
Big Apple clinic: Happy to take me as a patient, fine with a 'natural inter.c.ourse cycle.' Rates are truly affordable for NYC: $450 for the initial consult. $200 for every ultrasound (and every. single. ultrasound. has to be done at their office - even though I get free ultrasounds elsewhere in the city. They justify this by basically not charging for the consults mid-cycle, which I'm guessing also means you don't actually see the doctor mid-cycle - they supervise from afar while running between their IVF patients with fixed rates per cycle). Still unclear if they will restrict where my meds come from (Po.rt.la.nd Pharmacy is not approved of by all clinics, even though it is full reputable) and will allow bloodwork elsewhere. Estimated cost of a cycle given my stimming history: $3300 plus meds - so around $5000 with meds and co-pays on lab draws. (And yes, we will pay every penny of that ourselves. Whee!)
Downsides: Cost, dealing with a new clinic (nurse dear, if I say that I have NO NO NO cycle do not send me paperwork which calls for CD3 labwork. I have NO NO NO cycle. I will not be able to identify a lovely CD3 for you. And while we're at it, don't suggest I use bcps to 'restart my cycle' when I already noted that I am one of those incredible women who can take standard bcps and not bleed during the placebo weeks. Same for prog.est.er.one to induce bleeding while we're at it. That's why I mailed you my medical file, darlin'. And anyway, pumping your body full of artificial hormones doesn't lead to the most representative lab results, ya know?).
And all seemed to be well in the world. And all of the cosmos were shifting so that early May might just be a possibility (oh how I hope my pox scars have faded by then ...) until chipper down South IVF coordinator says something about "And of course that will be at least six months since you weaned the fusspot, right?"
Screech.
Six months??????
So I called Big Apple clinic to ask their policy. Silence. Followed by silence. Followed by more silence (and yes, that's 4 separate voicemails asking the same question, for the record. Including one left by JD, which cheered me up immensely).
Now given how many of my friends have gotten pregnant while breastfeeding, I know that it is on occasion possible. And LLL has all sorts of testimonials about women who cycled (albeit not injectables while bf). Not that I was dreaming of that (and for the record, don't read their webpages. They are filled with testimonials which read like this: I was 45, infertile, nursing my 3-year-old-conceived-through-IVF and trying to decide whether I should end this beautiful nursing relationship to cycle again when POOF! I got pg on my own. Just like that. And now I can tandem nurse forever).
It's just that I really don't want to have to wean the fusspot alone. Or before she turns 18 months. Or close to 18 months? I realize it's possible and all, but my friends who have had an easy time weaning have used the 'don't offer, don't refuse' method which relies on a handy-dandy third party -let's just imagine husband/partner for many couples- to help break some of the associations, so do things like put the fusspot to bed or take her out of the bath (bathing makes my baby exceedingly hungry. Beats me). And I just don't want to have to go through all of that alone, with a baby pawing away at my clothes (my military friend who weaned when her husband was away said she literally could not take her bra off for a full 2 weeks - in bed, in the shower, or her daughter would go crazy trying to get to the source).
And then there's the whole wild trip to someplace awesome (which starts with an I and ends with an -ndia), which my pediatrician is totally fine with as long as the fusspot is bf.
So here was my fantasy: wean in May, cycle in June. But when you add an extra 6 months in ... it just doesn't look the same.
Clinic #1 has offered to test my prolactin every month and let me start cycling as soon as it's low enough once the fusspot is fully weaned. But since that would mean a full lab work up, than 20 days of bcps, then a bleed and then stims ... we're still looking at a long delay (my original plan was to start bcps simultaneous with full-on weaning attempts on the thought that the meds lower milk production anyway and wouldn't be dangerous in small doses for a month for the fusspot).
Clinic #2: crickets.
But now I have to decide: wean the fusspot while living alone, and pre-big trip, and much, much closer to 12 months than I ever dreamed of. Or deal with a mid-summer start date at the earliest, and a possible delay until the fall. And of course there's the advice of all 3 REs who have treated me to be very careful not to add age into my laundry list of complications. So I love the idea of being able to cycle again before 30. And yes, I'll just admit it here: the thought of weaning the fusspot early on to face months of labwork and canceled cycles has warmed even my cold, barren heart towards the idea of twins just a bit (there I've said it).
Anyway, IF sucks and I unfortunately just finished my candy bar while writing this so I'm off to scour the kitchen for more chocolate. Any other coping techniques/advice much appreciated.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Wowie
Least y'all think that no good could possibly come of the two rather judgmental NYT's articles about IVF and IUIs ...
Well.
I am a bit blown away.
JD just offered to call both of our potential clinics to ask a very specific question about Project 2.0 since neither has returned my calls. And to be clear, neither returned my calls after I spoke to the IVF coordinator at both last week. I am guessing that either they don't deal with this question much, or just maybe they realized that I really rather care that they get the answer right.
No secrets here: the wall Project 2.0 hit has to do with breastfeeding. And cause we like to keep it real simple 'round here, thrown in with some heavy-handed pediatrician advice to keep at it if I really plan to take the fusspot to the 3rd world this spring. And obviously if I really have to choose between a fab vacation and cycling 3-6 months earlier, well, long-time readers will know that I am one of the "obsessed" referred to in said articles but still ...
More on 2.0 soon. But the fusspot has a tooth! and I must sleep whenever possible to keep up with her voracious appetite.
Well.
I am a bit blown away.
JD just offered to call both of our potential clinics to ask a very specific question about Project 2.0 since neither has returned my calls. And to be clear, neither returned my calls after I spoke to the IVF coordinator at both last week. I am guessing that either they don't deal with this question much, or just maybe they realized that I really rather care that they get the answer right.
No secrets here: the wall Project 2.0 hit has to do with breastfeeding. And cause we like to keep it real simple 'round here, thrown in with some heavy-handed pediatrician advice to keep at it if I really plan to take the fusspot to the 3rd world this spring. And obviously if I really have to choose between a fab vacation and cycling 3-6 months earlier, well, long-time readers will know that I am one of the "obsessed" referred to in said articles but still ...
More on 2.0 soon. But the fusspot has a tooth! and I must sleep whenever possible to keep up with her voracious appetite.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Since I rant about unfortunate comments so frequently ..
the fusspot and I were at a Sunday lunch today and one of the moms was complaining about the cost of childcare while a full-time student and made some off-hand remark about how none of us quasi-single moms had 'planned pregnancies.'
And I just said rather quietly: "We did. In fact, we had to wait a month to raise our Amex credit limit before we could start."
Which immediately turned the conversation to my insides and stuff. And one of the woman said two really nice and really appropriate things. She said "It is just really unfair that some women can't get pregnant" and "It's nice that your daughter will know how much she was wanted when you tell her what you went through."
Just really kind comments and not the type you often hear.
And then a few minutes later I realized that all of these other women had been there to witness each other's births. And listening to them I was just starting to think how nice it would be to be able to support another woman during delivery ...
So when another friend later tonight asked if I'd come during her labor to hang out, I said sure. Not sure if I meant it, but we'll see. At least I can still shock myself occasionally.
And I just said rather quietly: "We did. In fact, we had to wait a month to raise our Amex credit limit before we could start."
Which immediately turned the conversation to my insides and stuff. And one of the woman said two really nice and really appropriate things. She said "It is just really unfair that some women can't get pregnant" and "It's nice that your daughter will know how much she was wanted when you tell her what you went through."
Just really kind comments and not the type you often hear.
And then a few minutes later I realized that all of these other women had been there to witness each other's births. And listening to them I was just starting to think how nice it would be to be able to support another woman during delivery ...
So when another friend later tonight asked if I'd come during her labor to hang out, I said sure. Not sure if I meant it, but we'll see. At least I can still shock myself occasionally.
All of my fears about twins
An article in the NYT's today: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/11/health/11fertility.html?ref=health
And later, Project 2.0 hits a brick wall.
And later, Project 2.0 hits a brick wall.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Much improved, just send kleenex
I don't think I've ever gone this long without posting. I've been in a bit of a funk. A funk that really should have been cured by 2 weeks vacation in the U.S. and seeing JD. But that's not exactly how things worked out.
Just before we left for NYC I wrote and then immediately deleted a funny post about what an obsessive first-time mom I am. The type who sees three little spots on her daughter's arm, starts googling obsessively, and diagnosis her with the dreaded chick.en pox. I then called and woke my mom up at 5 am to consult, and she assured me that if there were only 3 spots and no more after 2 days it couldn't be the pox.
So I went back to Dr. Google and self-diagnosed spider bites, and then spent hours vacuuming and dusting (which was probably well needed). I did decide to cancel my lunch with a preggers friend, but rescheduled a playdate with a new acquaintance and her 2-year old.
All I can say is like moths to a flame. New-friend asked me about more children, and like normal I started in on my IF rant. New-friend smiled and told me she knows all about it because they did clomid and IUIs for months and finally got pregnant the month after they stopped. And WHEE! she's pregnant again! And she even got pregnant before and lost the baby but WHEE! she can get pregnant without drugs. And maybe I'll just 'get lucky' someday too. Needless to say I haven't been so keen to schedule a follow-up playdate here.
Fast forward to daycare drop off 24 hours before our scheduled departure for NYC (on a bus, a train, and 2 planes all filled with healthy, innocent bystanders). I walk into the fusspot's room and realize that she does indeed have the dreaded pox because 6 of her classmates are covered head to toe in oozing pox. Apparently here in Lalaland the pox is considered a normal childhood disease, they don't vaccinate, and they certainly don't send babies home from daycare with it ... even though the fusspot is in a room with 4 newborns (I can almost hear the gasp from across the ocean). So the pox it was, and I spent hours on the phone with her American pediatrican ("make sure to put her in long sleeves and a hat in case she breaks out more on the plane") and her local doctor ("I wouldn't say she's not contagious per se, but have a lovely va-kay") and feeling horribly, terribly guilty (sidenote: do non-vaccinaters feel guilty when they bring their sick children into public with potentially life-threatening diseases?). The problem is that I was using the return half of an early ticket and then the first half of a new return ticket to NYC and neither airline would budge on their rebooking fee and I really don't have an extra $2000 lying around, so not going would have meant not seeing JD for a full 8 months.
(The conversation went something like this: "I am about to bring my highly contagious baby on your flight. She could pose a serious risk to your other customers and flight attendants. I would like to reschedule - can you lower your fees at all?" "Nope - shoudda bought travel insurance woman" "Dude, can't buy travel insurance for a lapchild in the U.S." "Hahah, sucks to be you")
Bet you didn't know that diarrhea is a common side-effect of the pox in babies. It was a fun flight. I am eternally grateful that we were seated near no potentially-fertile woman on either flight (we were in fact surrounded by businessmen) so that I did not need to have that super-de-duper-awkward conversation ("Hi. I'm irresponsible parent just wondering if you might possibly be pregnant and if so about to recommend that you move seats immediately because my fusspot is currently in the highly contagious phase for a disease that could be serious for you." I will admit that since we've returned to Lalaland and since the pox epidemic seems to have spread through my entire city I am rather relieved to see pox-infected babies at the library, the supermarket, the fair - so apparently they just have a completely different notion about it.)
After a bus, a train ride, a 2.5 hour wait in an airport, a flight, a sprint through airport #2 to flight #2, a long transatlantic flight I got off the plane at JFK to discover that JD was 'working late' and I was greeted by my in-laws. My MIL coos over the fusspot, then turns to me and says "You look tired. I beat you'd be less tired if you stopped breastfeeding." Sigh.
Obviously we couldn't exactly hang out with our baby-friends in NYC for the first week. And JD was working. But we went down South to see my parents and saw the awesome Kate. Although my mother insisted on severely restricting who we saw during the holidays and where we went.
And then we went back to NYC and I woke up one morning with a bright red rash on my stomach. Yup, I got the pox. And guess what makes the adult pox even worse? If you are breastfeeding a baby who likes to touch and kick and scratch your ever-so-itchy stomach. Awesome. So then we canceled all of our rescheduled playdates, including seeing this incredible woman). And for the record, not only did I have the pox vaccine, but I actually had my titers checked pre-IF treatments because I truly am that obsessive.
So you get the idea of problem #1 with the visit: the pox.
Problem #2: JD.
I am starting to wonder if I have somehow stunted my darling husband's transition from single guy to new father by absconding abroad with the fusspot. Since I take care of the fusspot alone here in Lalaland, I had presumed (and stated rather clearly) that I expected this to be a vacation and for JD to take over a lot of the basic daily care (like diaper changes, meals, cutting her naisl, baths and getting up in the morning). And hence our problem. JD just didn't live up to my expectations, particularly when it came to getting out of bed. To be precise, I got to sleep in 2 days during my visit. Two days. That's it.
I did succeed in not cooking for 2 weeks straight, but that's something I can almost achieve here by just resigning myself to eating toast and hard-boiled eggs. It's the extra sleep I was really looking forward to, and it didn't happen. And I had also e-mailed JD and list of things to do in preparation for our arrival, like, say, clean. And yet there were bunny-sized dustballs on the floor so I landed up spending hours cleaning on my vacation. And the honest truth is I resent it. And he resents that I don't appreciate how hard his job is and the crazy hours he works and that he feels like he has to stay at this job to support the fusspot and I (and to pay back his crazy student debts. When his friend said something about "oh, like $50,000" and we both laughed because that would be a point of major celebration). And while I know that his job is far from ideal, he still usually gets a full day per week off. And he can sleep in every day (many professional jobs in NYC start much later than the rest of the world). And he can shower everyday. And read the news in peace. And just up and decide he wants to go out for a drink after work and do that. Alone.
So we are both resentful. Although conscious enough that JD was quite clear that we need to work on our marriage. And then I packed up a suitcase of yummy American food (baking powder! chocolate chips!) and headed back to Lalaland with a healthy fusspot and a very itchy stomach. And 48 hours after returning to her daycare the fusspot started literally dripping snot every couple of minutes.
So much improved, but send kleenex.
And you really ought to get a prize for reading to the end.
Just before we left for NYC I wrote and then immediately deleted a funny post about what an obsessive first-time mom I am. The type who sees three little spots on her daughter's arm, starts googling obsessively, and diagnosis her with the dreaded chick.en pox. I then called and woke my mom up at 5 am to consult, and she assured me that if there were only 3 spots and no more after 2 days it couldn't be the pox.
So I went back to Dr. Google and self-diagnosed spider bites, and then spent hours vacuuming and dusting (which was probably well needed). I did decide to cancel my lunch with a preggers friend, but rescheduled a playdate with a new acquaintance and her 2-year old.
All I can say is like moths to a flame. New-friend asked me about more children, and like normal I started in on my IF rant. New-friend smiled and told me she knows all about it because they did clomid and IUIs for months and finally got pregnant the month after they stopped. And WHEE! she's pregnant again! And she even got pregnant before and lost the baby but WHEE! she can get pregnant without drugs. And maybe I'll just 'get lucky' someday too. Needless to say I haven't been so keen to schedule a follow-up playdate here.
Fast forward to daycare drop off 24 hours before our scheduled departure for NYC (on a bus, a train, and 2 planes all filled with healthy, innocent bystanders). I walk into the fusspot's room and realize that she does indeed have the dreaded pox because 6 of her classmates are covered head to toe in oozing pox. Apparently here in Lalaland the pox is considered a normal childhood disease, they don't vaccinate, and they certainly don't send babies home from daycare with it ... even though the fusspot is in a room with 4 newborns (I can almost hear the gasp from across the ocean). So the pox it was, and I spent hours on the phone with her American pediatrican ("make sure to put her in long sleeves and a hat in case she breaks out more on the plane") and her local doctor ("I wouldn't say she's not contagious per se, but have a lovely va-kay") and feeling horribly, terribly guilty (sidenote: do non-vaccinaters feel guilty when they bring their sick children into public with potentially life-threatening diseases?). The problem is that I was using the return half of an early ticket and then the first half of a new return ticket to NYC and neither airline would budge on their rebooking fee and I really don't have an extra $2000 lying around, so not going would have meant not seeing JD for a full 8 months.
(The conversation went something like this: "I am about to bring my highly contagious baby on your flight. She could pose a serious risk to your other customers and flight attendants. I would like to reschedule - can you lower your fees at all?" "Nope - shoudda bought travel insurance woman" "Dude, can't buy travel insurance for a lapchild in the U.S." "Hahah, sucks to be you")
Bet you didn't know that diarrhea is a common side-effect of the pox in babies. It was a fun flight. I am eternally grateful that we were seated near no potentially-fertile woman on either flight (we were in fact surrounded by businessmen) so that I did not need to have that super-de-duper-awkward conversation ("Hi. I'm irresponsible parent just wondering if you might possibly be pregnant and if so about to recommend that you move seats immediately because my fusspot is currently in the highly contagious phase for a disease that could be serious for you." I will admit that since we've returned to Lalaland and since the pox epidemic seems to have spread through my entire city I am rather relieved to see pox-infected babies at the library, the supermarket, the fair - so apparently they just have a completely different notion about it.)
After a bus, a train ride, a 2.5 hour wait in an airport, a flight, a sprint through airport #2 to flight #2, a long transatlantic flight I got off the plane at JFK to discover that JD was 'working late' and I was greeted by my in-laws. My MIL coos over the fusspot, then turns to me and says "You look tired. I beat you'd be less tired if you stopped breastfeeding." Sigh.
Obviously we couldn't exactly hang out with our baby-friends in NYC for the first week. And JD was working. But we went down South to see my parents and saw the awesome Kate. Although my mother insisted on severely restricting who we saw during the holidays and where we went.
And then we went back to NYC and I woke up one morning with a bright red rash on my stomach. Yup, I got the pox. And guess what makes the adult pox even worse? If you are breastfeeding a baby who likes to touch and kick and scratch your ever-so-itchy stomach. Awesome. So then we canceled all of our rescheduled playdates, including seeing this incredible woman). And for the record, not only did I have the pox vaccine, but I actually had my titers checked pre-IF treatments because I truly am that obsessive.
So you get the idea of problem #1 with the visit: the pox.
Problem #2: JD.
I am starting to wonder if I have somehow stunted my darling husband's transition from single guy to new father by absconding abroad with the fusspot. Since I take care of the fusspot alone here in Lalaland, I had presumed (and stated rather clearly) that I expected this to be a vacation and for JD to take over a lot of the basic daily care (like diaper changes, meals, cutting her naisl, baths and getting up in the morning). And hence our problem. JD just didn't live up to my expectations, particularly when it came to getting out of bed. To be precise, I got to sleep in 2 days during my visit. Two days. That's it.
I did succeed in not cooking for 2 weeks straight, but that's something I can almost achieve here by just resigning myself to eating toast and hard-boiled eggs. It's the extra sleep I was really looking forward to, and it didn't happen. And I had also e-mailed JD and list of things to do in preparation for our arrival, like, say, clean. And yet there were bunny-sized dustballs on the floor so I landed up spending hours cleaning on my vacation. And the honest truth is I resent it. And he resents that I don't appreciate how hard his job is and the crazy hours he works and that he feels like he has to stay at this job to support the fusspot and I (and to pay back his crazy student debts. When his friend said something about "oh, like $50,000" and we both laughed because that would be a point of major celebration). And while I know that his job is far from ideal, he still usually gets a full day per week off. And he can sleep in every day (many professional jobs in NYC start much later than the rest of the world). And he can shower everyday. And read the news in peace. And just up and decide he wants to go out for a drink after work and do that. Alone.
So we are both resentful. Although conscious enough that JD was quite clear that we need to work on our marriage. And then I packed up a suitcase of yummy American food (baking powder! chocolate chips!) and headed back to Lalaland with a healthy fusspot and a very itchy stomach. And 48 hours after returning to her daycare the fusspot started literally dripping snot every couple of minutes.
So much improved, but send kleenex.
And you really ought to get a prize for reading to the end.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Not good
48 hours after returning to Lalaland I just told my husband I may not come visit in December. Very tired and grumpy. Trying to finish something with a deadline of today while the fusspot alternates between screaming and banging the computer.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
I am tired and jetlagged and a bit grumpy
but still. Any ideas on age-appropriate discipline for a 9-month old? My plan had been to go with a firm "No" (note the capital n) and otherwise ignore the offending behavior (to date, exclusively the deliberate and repeated removal of the fusspot's diaper by said fusspot) except that I made my friend's toddler almost cry with said technique. And the fusspot tends to just ignore it.
Any ideas? Anything that works? She's way too young for a timeout (which I do like in moderation) or any type of reward/treat, but I do want to let her know that I don't like it when she takes her diaper off.
Speaking of things I'd like, a long nap would be lovely. But I have way too much work to do tonight. And we have no food in the house at all so I need to go grocery shopping in the morning. And no fresh pumped milk, so I need to pump 10-15 oz. for daycare tomorrow. Fun!
And while we're on developmental stuff (and since my brain is clearly friend with 1 hours sleep and 12 hours in public in the past 24 hours), my baby has impressive receptive language skills. No sign of signing at all, but I made up movements to a little song I also made up (JD would like to note that I made up the words, there is as of yet no particular tune). I thought the fusspot was just imitating me when I did the motions, but yesterday when I sang the song while sitting still she danced away through our routine.
Which really does suggest that I ought to be able to think of a feasible way to telling her not to take off her diaper.
Any ideas? Anything that works? She's way too young for a timeout (which I do like in moderation) or any type of reward/treat, but I do want to let her know that I don't like it when she takes her diaper off.
Speaking of things I'd like, a long nap would be lovely. But I have way too much work to do tonight. And we have no food in the house at all so I need to go grocery shopping in the morning. And no fresh pumped milk, so I need to pump 10-15 oz. for daycare tomorrow. Fun!
And while we're on developmental stuff (and since my brain is clearly friend with 1 hours sleep and 12 hours in public in the past 24 hours), my baby has impressive receptive language skills. No sign of signing at all, but I made up movements to a little song I also made up (JD would like to note that I made up the words, there is as of yet no particular tune). I thought the fusspot was just imitating me when I did the motions, but yesterday when I sang the song while sitting still she danced away through our routine.
Which really does suggest that I ought to be able to think of a feasible way to telling her not to take off her diaper.
Back
in lalaland.
The flight went rather well. Well enough that the couple sitting next to me pulled out their camera and took a photo of my fusspot halfway through the flight because she was that cute. Even though they were sitting next to her on an airplane.
The rest of the trip was not exactly so perfect, but more on that when I've had more than 2 hours sleep.
Before I forget, took the fusspot to her 9-month check-up in NYC. You know how cartoon characters have weird proportions which make them cute? Same with stuffed animals and booble heads? I think my fusspot is benefiting.
Least you've forgotten the all-important statistics, my little one was 50th percentile for weight at 3 months, 51st percentile at 6 months and a slight drop (kidding) to 49th percentile at 9 months. JD and I beamed with pride, as if were the type of parents who actually plan meals in advance and buy organic apples and don't take it as a point of pride that I did not cook a single meal (breakfast included) during my 2-week stint in the U.S. Then the doctor asked our permission to measure her again because the numbers "looked a bit odd" (way to make first-time parents queasy). The fusspot is now in the mid-90s for head circumference and a sharp drop to the 17th percentile for height. No wonder I have to roll all her pants. My adorable little cartoon character.
The flight went rather well. Well enough that the couple sitting next to me pulled out their camera and took a photo of my fusspot halfway through the flight because she was that cute. Even though they were sitting next to her on an airplane.
The rest of the trip was not exactly so perfect, but more on that when I've had more than 2 hours sleep.
Before I forget, took the fusspot to her 9-month check-up in NYC. You know how cartoon characters have weird proportions which make them cute? Same with stuffed animals and booble heads? I think my fusspot is benefiting.
Least you've forgotten the all-important statistics, my little one was 50th percentile for weight at 3 months, 51st percentile at 6 months and a slight drop (kidding) to 49th percentile at 9 months. JD and I beamed with pride, as if were the type of parents who actually plan meals in advance and buy organic apples and don't take it as a point of pride that I did not cook a single meal (breakfast included) during my 2-week stint in the U.S. Then the doctor asked our permission to measure her again because the numbers "looked a bit odd" (way to make first-time parents queasy). The fusspot is now in the mid-90s for head circumference and a sharp drop to the 17th percentile for height. No wonder I have to roll all her pants. My adorable little cartoon character.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Shana tova
Yesterday it was a leaky diaper at 3 am.
This morning the fusspot threw up all over me and our bed at 6 am. We're doing the laundry now before our flight down South to see my parents and Kate (who makes me sound like a glamorous international spy, which is awesome!).
I try to never take these moments for granted. Here's to another wonderful year with my darling JD and absolutely perfect fusspot who is bopping along to the radio right now.
L'shana tova.
This morning the fusspot threw up all over me and our bed at 6 am. We're doing the laundry now before our flight down South to see my parents and Kate (who makes me sound like a glamorous international spy, which is awesome!).
I try to never take these moments for granted. Here's to another wonderful year with my darling JD and absolutely perfect fusspot who is bopping along to the radio right now.
L'shana tova.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Sigh
On the way back into my apartment building today one of my neighbors asked if I was pregnant again.
Sigh.
What to respond? If all it took was dreaming, then I'm absolutely working on another baby. If you're asking whether we've saved up anywhere close to enough money to afford the ever-enthralling task of future fertility treatments? Well, nope. We're not even bank-account-pregnant, let alone paper/peestick-pregnant.
(and yes dear readers, I will be keeping a tally of how many people ask me this question)
Sigh.
What to respond? If all it took was dreaming, then I'm absolutely working on another baby. If you're asking whether we've saved up anywhere close to enough money to afford the ever-enthralling task of future fertility treatments? Well, nope. We're not even bank-account-pregnant, let alone paper/peestick-pregnant.
(and yes dear readers, I will be keeping a tally of how many people ask me this question)
Bliss
Let's see what has happened since we walked into our apartment at about 9 pm yesterday night (15 hours after walking out of our other domicile):
- I woke up feeling a bit damp at 3 am. Leaky-diarrhea-diaper damp (yes, we cosleep for any new readers).
- While searching for clean sheets the fusspot was rolling around on the bed and rolled right over the edge, through the slates on her new bed guard rail (which will be shipped back to amazon later today) and fell only to the floor. Thankfully she seemed entirely unhurt, landed on her hands, and did not even pause in her fussing.
- Left her out to air after her diaper change. She pooed all over the floor (messy diarrhea poo. And yes, I know diarrhea is hard to identify in babies but going with the definition of more than one poo per hour of an unusual sort - she got it. Did I mention we were in transit for 15 hours yesterday?).
But the bliss part? Not having to deal with any of it alone.
- I woke up feeling a bit damp at 3 am. Leaky-diarrhea-diaper damp (yes, we cosleep for any new readers).
- While searching for clean sheets the fusspot was rolling around on the bed and rolled right over the edge, through the slates on her new bed guard rail (which will be shipped back to amazon later today) and fell only to the floor. Thankfully she seemed entirely unhurt, landed on her hands, and did not even pause in her fussing.
- Left her out to air after her diaper change. She pooed all over the floor (messy diarrhea poo. And yes, I know diarrhea is hard to identify in babies but going with the definition of more than one poo per hour of an unusual sort - she got it. Did I mention we were in transit for 15 hours yesterday?).
But the bliss part? Not having to deal with any of it alone.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Growing up
You may not realize quite what a milestone this is for me, but I just did something that I would have considered completely absurd even this time last year.
I packed.
For a flight that does not leave until Wednesday afternoon.
Not started to pack, finished. Down to the cheerios and bib in the diaper bag and the NYC apartment keys in my purse.
I feel downright almost grown-up.
--------
On a completely different note, thank you to my lovely European readers Caro (who has some big news to share) and May for reminding me that I can be quite an idiot ;-) Of course my oven is in celsius, not fahrenheit. In my defense it is electric and seems to run a particularly cool 220C. But it certainly works. Dinner was a lovely disaster. Not only did I invite someone at 4:30 pm on Friday (for dinner that evening), but said guest beat me to the house. So instead of having a delightful 4 course meal ready to serve, I 'encouraged' my guests to each take charge of a dish and cook it themselves while I retreated to my room to change and nurse my baby. And despite all of that, dinner was lovely.
And thank you Melissia for the cleaning-up advice. This is exactly what I was looking for.
I packed.
For a flight that does not leave until Wednesday afternoon.
Not started to pack, finished. Down to the cheerios and bib in the diaper bag and the NYC apartment keys in my purse.
I feel downright almost grown-up.
--------
On a completely different note, thank you to my lovely European readers Caro (who has some big news to share) and May for reminding me that I can be quite an idiot ;-) Of course my oven is in celsius, not fahrenheit. In my defense it is electric and seems to run a particularly cool 220C. But it certainly works. Dinner was a lovely disaster. Not only did I invite someone at 4:30 pm on Friday (for dinner that evening), but said guest beat me to the house. So instead of having a delightful 4 course meal ready to serve, I 'encouraged' my guests to each take charge of a dish and cook it themselves while I retreated to my room to change and nurse my baby. And despite all of that, dinner was lovely.
And thank you Melissia for the cleaning-up advice. This is exactly what I was looking for.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Random - recipe ideas?
Well I'm hosting shabbos dinner this week. 6 adults, 1 fusspot.
According to a blog I read (with no citation, of course), the average American grocery story has 45,000 items. The average grocery store here has 15,000. And in the absurd exchange rate (which basically rules out salad) and the fact that it must be vegetarian by necessity (haven't made it to the butcher yet) and I'm sort-of at a loss for ideas ... oh, and my oven only goes up to 220 degrees. Of course, that may explain why the kitchen has no baking trays or pie pans (ruling out cookies or pie for dessert). Beats me why.
So, any clever ideas for easy, fun vegetarian dinner ideas? I was thinking of making a butternut squash soup (only ingredient purchased thus far) and a vegetarian curry. Recipes much appreciated. Maybe bruschetta for an appetizer, maybe an apple crisp for dessert? Any ideas for easy appetizers, entrees, sides or dessert very much appreciated.
My guess is that I am feeling so uninspired to cook (and I really do love to cook and to bake) because next Friday I'll be in the USA eating yummy holiday-food! That's right folks, only one more week until I see my much-missed husband again. 2.5 months down, 1 week to go.
According to a blog I read (with no citation, of course), the average American grocery story has 45,000 items. The average grocery store here has 15,000. And in the absurd exchange rate (which basically rules out salad) and the fact that it must be vegetarian by necessity (haven't made it to the butcher yet) and I'm sort-of at a loss for ideas ... oh, and my oven only goes up to 220 degrees. Of course, that may explain why the kitchen has no baking trays or pie pans (ruling out cookies or pie for dessert). Beats me why.
So, any clever ideas for easy, fun vegetarian dinner ideas? I was thinking of making a butternut squash soup (only ingredient purchased thus far) and a vegetarian curry. Recipes much appreciated. Maybe bruschetta for an appetizer, maybe an apple crisp for dessert? Any ideas for easy appetizers, entrees, sides or dessert very much appreciated.
My guess is that I am feeling so uninspired to cook (and I really do love to cook and to bake) because next Friday I'll be in the USA eating yummy holiday-food! That's right folks, only one more week until I see my much-missed husband again. 2.5 months down, 1 week to go.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
little, quiet tears of frustration
On Friday there was a little click on the slowly-moving cogs in the brain. Highly suspicious that the fusspot's half-finished bottles go bad so very quickly when I take them home from daycare (not that I could use them anyway, but they often smell rancid by the time I do the dishes around 9 pm).
So today I asked. And smiled wanely and tried not to cry.
Despite my clear instructions the first week, despite a full information sheet, they've been microwaving my breastmilk. 3 months. 2-3 5 oz. bottles a day. 5 days a week. Wasted.
If you microwave breastmilk it loses all of its magical qualities. Keeps the calories but no more antibodies, etc.
And these are supposed to be fully-trained professional daycare workers? It is obvious from across the room that it is breastmilk (since I pump it the day or night before it has separated into cream and milk by 9 am the next morning).
I know, I was pumping mainly to keep up my supply for when we are together. But all that wasted time? And those missed nutrients? And especially when the fusspot is happy to take her bottles cold! I know you're not supposed to cry over spilled milk, but how about a little exception for microwaved milk?
So today I asked. And smiled wanely and tried not to cry.
Despite my clear instructions the first week, despite a full information sheet, they've been microwaving my breastmilk. 3 months. 2-3 5 oz. bottles a day. 5 days a week. Wasted.
If you microwave breastmilk it loses all of its magical qualities. Keeps the calories but no more antibodies, etc.
And these are supposed to be fully-trained professional daycare workers? It is obvious from across the room that it is breastmilk (since I pump it the day or night before it has separated into cream and milk by 9 am the next morning).
I know, I was pumping mainly to keep up my supply for when we are together. But all that wasted time? And those missed nutrients? And especially when the fusspot is happy to take her bottles cold! I know you're not supposed to cry over spilled milk, but how about a little exception for microwaved milk?
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Nothing new
Just trying to enjoy every moment here with my little fusspot and not think about planning out the details of next year and after.
And also trying to stay on top of the smaller stuff. Like the fact that I put the fusspot in a new outfit, played blocks with her, went for a bike ride, and then met a colleague for coffee. And the moment she picked the fusspot up she declared something "odd" and lifted her new dress to show me that I'd left the diaper cover nicely attached on the inside (and yes, I had washed the outfit). A+ for paying attention to my daughter who spent the morning with a set of diaper-cover-panties pinned to the inside of her dress.
The foodie baby (aka my gluttonous child) continues to eat her way through the spice cabinet. Over the weekend she has heartily endorsed the following: butternut squash with butter and cinammon, homemade baba ganoush (very heavy on the garlic because apparently lemon juice is a key ingredient and I'm still queasy about citrus foods), carrots dipped in tahini, and tofu with soy sauce. For a shabbos treat I let my fusspot pet a bowl of beets mixed with hummus and the girl practically squealed in delight, but oh what a mess!
And then I panicked about money and not knowing what my husband was thinking and being fair to the fusspot and getting older and stuff so I called JD and demanded to know whether he would have enough saved up for treatments when I get back. He asked how much (since the first go round I wanted to either have, or have access to, as much as we would spend before moving on to another option for parenting, so at least 3 rounds of IVF and figuring out where we would borrow that much money was quite a mind-boggling job) and I told him $10,000 (figuring 3 rounds of o-induction or IUI if necessary and 1 IVF -at the very most- before my salary kicks in in mid-October) and he said fine. Exhale. He didn't say he thought it was the most brilliant plan ever, but he also didn't say no way.
Sometimes I forget how incredible my husband is.
I don't think he's forgotten how distracted I am. He called me on the way to the airport. Funny thing is that I had no idea he was going on a trip. But when I searched in my e-mail, he'd told me about it several times. Did I mention I let my daughter leave the house this morning with diaper-cover-panties pinned to her dress?
Tomorrow I am meeting up with a friend on maternity leave, and then a group of English-speaking new and expectant moms. And I am glad that I just called and asked point-blank whether my husband was on the same page I am. Not only do I feel better, but he's stuck around for this long (a full year of marriage already, folks! plus almost a decade as friends and then partners before that) so I doubt he was all that surprised.
And also trying to stay on top of the smaller stuff. Like the fact that I put the fusspot in a new outfit, played blocks with her, went for a bike ride, and then met a colleague for coffee. And the moment she picked the fusspot up she declared something "odd" and lifted her new dress to show me that I'd left the diaper cover nicely attached on the inside (and yes, I had washed the outfit). A+ for paying attention to my daughter who spent the morning with a set of diaper-cover-panties pinned to the inside of her dress.
The foodie baby (aka my gluttonous child) continues to eat her way through the spice cabinet. Over the weekend she has heartily endorsed the following: butternut squash with butter and cinammon, homemade baba ganoush (very heavy on the garlic because apparently lemon juice is a key ingredient and I'm still queasy about citrus foods), carrots dipped in tahini, and tofu with soy sauce. For a shabbos treat I let my fusspot pet a bowl of beets mixed with hummus and the girl practically squealed in delight, but oh what a mess!
And then I panicked about money and not knowing what my husband was thinking and being fair to the fusspot and getting older and stuff so I called JD and demanded to know whether he would have enough saved up for treatments when I get back. He asked how much (since the first go round I wanted to either have, or have access to, as much as we would spend before moving on to another option for parenting, so at least 3 rounds of IVF and figuring out where we would borrow that much money was quite a mind-boggling job) and I told him $10,000 (figuring 3 rounds of o-induction or IUI if necessary and 1 IVF -at the very most- before my salary kicks in in mid-October) and he said fine. Exhale. He didn't say he thought it was the most brilliant plan ever, but he also didn't say no way.
Sometimes I forget how incredible my husband is.
I don't think he's forgotten how distracted I am. He called me on the way to the airport. Funny thing is that I had no idea he was going on a trip. But when I searched in my e-mail, he'd told me about it several times. Did I mention I let my daughter leave the house this morning with diaper-cover-panties pinned to her dress?
Tomorrow I am meeting up with a friend on maternity leave, and then a group of English-speaking new and expectant moms. And I am glad that I just called and asked point-blank whether my husband was on the same page I am. Not only do I feel better, but he's stuck around for this long (a full year of marriage already, folks! plus almost a decade as friends and then partners before that) so I doubt he was all that surprised.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
A practical question of the stinky kind
For those of you with babies or pets or very poorly-behaved guests, any suggestions on how to clean up after near misses on our baby toilet? Since this is a rental apartment, I can't do anything about the wall-to-wall carpeting in the bedroom (where we keep our baby toilet) or the elegant room-sized carpets upstairs.
Also, we have a leather couch and 2 leather armchairs which are at some point going to get peed on.
Any advice much appreciated.
Also, we have a leather couch and 2 leather armchairs which are at some point going to get peed on.
Any advice much appreciated.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
I really do love him
However, I will not claim he's perfect.
I finally delegated the project of making the fusspot legal to JD. He told me that after 2 hours on hold he finally got through to someone, but they couldn't find her record. That would be because he had forgotten her birthday. That's right, less than 9 months after the big day JD can't remember the exact date. [Sidenote: My father is infamous for a hysterical voicemail he left me on my sister's birthday. He starts out by wishing me a happy birthday, talking about the upcoming year, then apparently realizes that he might just have confused us and tries to cover it up by adding "that he's just calling a few months early in case I'm too busy partying on my birthday proper for him to reach me." Nice save.]
Last week JD also e-mailed me a profile of a woman with a note that if I leave him, after crying for weeks of course, he's going to marry her.
Unlike the fusspot I picked the right guy.
I finally delegated the project of making the fusspot legal to JD. He told me that after 2 hours on hold he finally got through to someone, but they couldn't find her record. That would be because he had forgotten her birthday. That's right, less than 9 months after the big day JD can't remember the exact date. [Sidenote: My father is infamous for a hysterical voicemail he left me on my sister's birthday. He starts out by wishing me a happy birthday, talking about the upcoming year, then apparently realizes that he might just have confused us and tries to cover it up by adding "that he's just calling a few months early in case I'm too busy partying on my birthday proper for him to reach me." Nice save.]
Last week JD also e-mailed me a profile of a woman with a note that if I leave him, after crying for weeks of course, he's going to marry her.
Unlike the fusspot I picked the right guy.
Wrong guy
Hopefully she's not going to make a habit of it.
The fusspot has a boyfriend at daycare. Her teacher has been telling me for several days about this guy, but apparently his mom picks him up particularly early. So I did not meet him until today.
And while I'm glad that she is making friends, and I love the idea of her keeping up with the boys and all (especially since she's not yet mobile so the other toddlers have to bring the toys to her), well, did she really have to pick this particular little guy? Or at least this guy this week? I am really hoping that his pox are of the exzema/allergy sort, but a quick glance suggests that they are far more likely to be of the chicken pox variety (on his stomach, arms, and face. Not concentrated in any particular area. Dr. Google is in concurrence). I seem to recall chicken pox has a really long incubation period.
In other health news, I feed the fusspot the following for dinner:
- 1/2 banana
- Grapes (cut up very finely)
- 4 frozen cubes of spinach microwaved and sprinkled with Parmesan cheese
- Tahini
And despite having my epi-pen at the ready (and yes, I worked for a family with a severe nut allergy and I know that it is extraordinarily unlikely that a first time reaction would require an epipen), all seems to be well with the fusspot. We are in high gear for "beat your iron deficiency test." I've been a bit worried about it because she sleeps quite so much and is not crawling yet, but she's also still about 95% breastmilk, so we'll see. I'm going to have her tested in a few weeks. In the meantime, trying to fill her up on spinach and tahini and melons and cheerios. Any other ideas?
The fusspot has a boyfriend at daycare. Her teacher has been telling me for several days about this guy, but apparently his mom picks him up particularly early. So I did not meet him until today.
And while I'm glad that she is making friends, and I love the idea of her keeping up with the boys and all (especially since she's not yet mobile so the other toddlers have to bring the toys to her), well, did she really have to pick this particular little guy? Or at least this guy this week? I am really hoping that his pox are of the exzema/allergy sort, but a quick glance suggests that they are far more likely to be of the chicken pox variety (on his stomach, arms, and face. Not concentrated in any particular area. Dr. Google is in concurrence). I seem to recall chicken pox has a really long incubation period.
In other health news, I feed the fusspot the following for dinner:
- 1/2 banana
- Grapes (cut up very finely)
- 4 frozen cubes of spinach microwaved and sprinkled with Parmesan cheese
- Tahini
And despite having my epi-pen at the ready (and yes, I worked for a family with a severe nut allergy and I know that it is extraordinarily unlikely that a first time reaction would require an epipen), all seems to be well with the fusspot. We are in high gear for "beat your iron deficiency test." I've been a bit worried about it because she sleeps quite so much and is not crawling yet, but she's also still about 95% breastmilk, so we'll see. I'm going to have her tested in a few weeks. In the meantime, trying to fill her up on spinach and tahini and melons and cheerios. Any other ideas?
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