albeit a bit tired.
My faithful readers may recall that the fusspot got off to a particularly bad start with breastfeeding (with lots of related maternal guilt). The brief summary is that I probably never had gestational diabetes but was just insulin resistant while pregnant, and by super-zealously following the GD diet I inadvertently starved my baby. You could see all of her ribs when she was born. And as a result she was too sleepy/low calorie to latch on and we had 3 weeks of torture where she kept losing weight. Don't worry, the story has a happy ending and she is now a roly-poly perfectly health breastfed-on-demand baby.
But the point is that I spent a lot of time with my lactation consultant (and OT for the baby, pediatrician visits every 72 hours for weeks on end ...)
And tonight I got to use all of my skills. The LC here in Lalaland who visited my friend today (at my suggestion) not only made her more nervous (told her things like 'she was very concerned'), was also a bit culturally insensitive (they are really into scheduling things here, very authoritative with patients), and basically offered her a nipple shield and got the baby to eat once but left before a second feed (my LC always stayed for the second feed to watch me implement whatever I'd learned).
Which is to say that my friend was panicked, tired, and that at 4-days-old the baby had never latched onto the breast. And I got her to do it! I used every trick I could think of on one side (swaddle baby, have mom pump off 1/2 oz. so the baby doesn't have to get letdown, dribble the warm pumped 1/2 oz. down the breast while the baby tries to latch on) and THEN after a contented-tummy-full nap the baby just latched onto the other side (no swaddle, no pumping, no dribbling milk). My friend was SO proud, and I am too.
And now it's 3 am and I've promised to go back in the morning enroute to work to see how things are going. Oh yeah, and I did all of that while keeping my beautiful fusspot happy and distracted despite the fact that it was the middle of the night.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Point 5 to daycare
I really thought we'd done early childhood diseases this year: the dreaded pox (twice!), pink eye, 6 or 7 colds, RSV (complete with 105 fever), and probably the flu (104 fever for both of us). I was actually feeling a bit triumphant that since returning from Christmas break the fusspot has been illness-free. [Cue doom-impending music].
The note in her notebook was a bit ambiguous, but I got the general idea: "The fusspot has a problem between her legs." Much explaining in a language that is not my own didn't clarify the situation much, but a brief consult with my American pediatrican confirmed that yea.st infections are highly contagious and often go around daycares. I actually saw a nurse on Monday who suspected that the fusspot had such infection, but said to wait to treat it in case it was just diaper rash (which she has only had maybe 3 times in her life - we go diaper free a lot at home).
So yeah. Off to the pharmacy tomorrow to see what delightful over-the-counter treatment is available here.
It is a good thing this news hit me about 10 minutes before JD let me know that our most recent nanny-interviewee declined the job. See folks, when someone advertises that they are only interested in a legal nanny, well, um, the point is that they want to pay said nanny legally. New job posting should be up by the end of the week.
In other news, no wonder that less than 50% of women here are still breastfeeding at a month despite extended maternity leave and guaranteed space and time for pumping. Not only did the hospital mandate formula for my friend's baby, but the local nurse who did home visits also told her to pump and feed her baby so she could measure how much she was getting (baby is not petite and only 48 hours old), and apparently it's really hard to find a lactation consultant around here. Which is to say that I've been dropping by to provide breastfeeding cheerleading daily. More thoughts on other people's babies coming soon. And photos of my new craftiness (you never expected that, did you?)
The note in her notebook was a bit ambiguous, but I got the general idea: "The fusspot has a problem between her legs." Much explaining in a language that is not my own didn't clarify the situation much, but a brief consult with my American pediatrican confirmed that yea.st infections are highly contagious and often go around daycares. I actually saw a nurse on Monday who suspected that the fusspot had such infection, but said to wait to treat it in case it was just diaper rash (which she has only had maybe 3 times in her life - we go diaper free a lot at home).
So yeah. Off to the pharmacy tomorrow to see what delightful over-the-counter treatment is available here.
It is a good thing this news hit me about 10 minutes before JD let me know that our most recent nanny-interviewee declined the job. See folks, when someone advertises that they are only interested in a legal nanny, well, um, the point is that they want to pay said nanny legally. New job posting should be up by the end of the week.
In other news, no wonder that less than 50% of women here are still breastfeeding at a month despite extended maternity leave and guaranteed space and time for pumping. Not only did the hospital mandate formula for my friend's baby, but the local nurse who did home visits also told her to pump and feed her baby so she could measure how much she was getting (baby is not petite and only 48 hours old), and apparently it's really hard to find a lactation consultant around here. Which is to say that I've been dropping by to provide breastfeeding cheerleading daily. More thoughts on other people's babies coming soon. And photos of my new craftiness (you never expected that, did you?)
Monday, January 11, 2010
Gulp
So I spent the afternoon at the hospital. Holding a 4-hour old baby. For 4 hours.
I wasn't exactly sure how it would go, and I wasn't at all sure that I wouldn't start sobbing. But it actually went quite well, I think, and I didn't cry at all until I was waiting for the bus to go home.
See, I thought I'd just drop by, bring a snack, wave at the baby from behind the glass and head home. You see, I've never visited a baby in a hospital (just like my baby shower was the first and only one I've ever been to). Except that after 30 hours of labor my friend's husband looked up at me walking in, nodded sleepily, and announced that he was off home to nap. And my friend asked if I could hold the baby so she could rest. Which is how I happened to find myself in a 4th floor post-partum room with 3 post-partum women holding a 4-hour old baby. All afternoon long.
And yes, of course the nurse asked if I had any experience with babies and I told her I had my incredible fusspot at home. And she asked if holding a newborn made me want another and I said of course and she quipped something about "Well, you can do that tonight" and I snipped back at her "Oh, my husband's out of town" and left it at that. As if that was the biggest of our issues.
I am sure it will take me days to work through my thoughts on this one - really the holding of such a new little person is so different from reading baby announcements or visiting a friend's new 2-week old (like moths to a flame folks, I attract them bumps so I have a lot of preggo friends at the moment). Actually, I think the highlight was when I told JD online that I'd held a new baby and he said "Oh, cool." Let me assure you he never would have said something like that a year ago (New readers can be caught up on JD's infamous tact with an adorable little story from when I was about 8 months pregnant. His friend was trying to ask if it was scary to be responsible for bringing a new person into the world and JD just gave him a blank stare and said: "You know rats reproduce too." Needless to say I find JD's tact charming, and others don't).
But here's the other thing I realized. Our group of friends in NYC and our birth classes and our midwife all prepped me to do battle with the medical establishment over the fusspot's birth. And I really think I had to given that I was labeled high-risk and high-liability from day one and every doc I spoke to wanted to slice me open and take the fusspot out sooner rather than later. And in the end I had a lovely, intervention-free delivery and went back to work (with a 4+ hour commute) 5 weeks later. But maybe it wasn't all that necessary, or maybe some of those things I was fighting for just aren't that important.
I had GD. And the hospital staff kept threatening to feed the fusspot sugar water when she was born if my blood sugar was off. And not only did I fight that, but I also found another patient of my same midwife (so the midwife could confirm HIV status and Hep status without violating medical confidentiality) who was pumping and asked if we could have a couple of ounces of breastmilk so that the fusspot wouldn't have to get sugar water and formula. And in the end none of that was necessary because no one thought to check the fusspot's blood sugar levels in the hospital because she looked just fine.
Here in Lalaland they don't test for gestational diabetes. Or Group Strep B. At all, not even if you ask for it. My other friend said that no one weighed her during the last month of her pregnancy. Not once. [And YES, their infant mortality is much lower than in the U.S.] So the baby told was big, really big. And the hospital decided that it was a suspected case of untreated gestational diabetes, so they started her on formula and blood draws every 4 hours. I actually fed her today and held her through a blood draw. And basically my friend shrugged and said it wasn't a big deal to her and wasn't worth fighting about, and it really wasn't. They used a SNS to feed the baby (so no nipple confusion issues), it wasn't much formula, and after pushing out a rather big baby my friend was unconcerned about the baby suffering through a few heel pricks.
It's hard to think back about how many hours I spent worrying about feeding the fusspot formula, calling our pediatrician, calling the hospital, calling the insurance, talking to the LC. And really? It's probably just not that big a deal to give a baby 10 ccs of formula a couple times the first day.
So in short, I want another baby. Now. And I need to be more calm about the process.
Oh, and good thing we had our 12-month check-up in the U.S. before our 12-month check-up here in Lalaland. Because while my baby is in the 30th percentile in the U.S. she's only in the 1st percentile here. Babies here are tall, blond, and apparently born healthy despite rather nonchalant prenatal care.
I wasn't exactly sure how it would go, and I wasn't at all sure that I wouldn't start sobbing. But it actually went quite well, I think, and I didn't cry at all until I was waiting for the bus to go home.
See, I thought I'd just drop by, bring a snack, wave at the baby from behind the glass and head home. You see, I've never visited a baby in a hospital (just like my baby shower was the first and only one I've ever been to). Except that after 30 hours of labor my friend's husband looked up at me walking in, nodded sleepily, and announced that he was off home to nap. And my friend asked if I could hold the baby so she could rest. Which is how I happened to find myself in a 4th floor post-partum room with 3 post-partum women holding a 4-hour old baby. All afternoon long.
And yes, of course the nurse asked if I had any experience with babies and I told her I had my incredible fusspot at home. And she asked if holding a newborn made me want another and I said of course and she quipped something about "Well, you can do that tonight" and I snipped back at her "Oh, my husband's out of town" and left it at that. As if that was the biggest of our issues.
I am sure it will take me days to work through my thoughts on this one - really the holding of such a new little person is so different from reading baby announcements or visiting a friend's new 2-week old (like moths to a flame folks, I attract them bumps so I have a lot of preggo friends at the moment). Actually, I think the highlight was when I told JD online that I'd held a new baby and he said "Oh, cool." Let me assure you he never would have said something like that a year ago (New readers can be caught up on JD's infamous tact with an adorable little story from when I was about 8 months pregnant. His friend was trying to ask if it was scary to be responsible for bringing a new person into the world and JD just gave him a blank stare and said: "You know rats reproduce too." Needless to say I find JD's tact charming, and others don't).
But here's the other thing I realized. Our group of friends in NYC and our birth classes and our midwife all prepped me to do battle with the medical establishment over the fusspot's birth. And I really think I had to given that I was labeled high-risk and high-liability from day one and every doc I spoke to wanted to slice me open and take the fusspot out sooner rather than later. And in the end I had a lovely, intervention-free delivery and went back to work (with a 4+ hour commute) 5 weeks later. But maybe it wasn't all that necessary, or maybe some of those things I was fighting for just aren't that important.
I had GD. And the hospital staff kept threatening to feed the fusspot sugar water when she was born if my blood sugar was off. And not only did I fight that, but I also found another patient of my same midwife (so the midwife could confirm HIV status and Hep status without violating medical confidentiality) who was pumping and asked if we could have a couple of ounces of breastmilk so that the fusspot wouldn't have to get sugar water and formula. And in the end none of that was necessary because no one thought to check the fusspot's blood sugar levels in the hospital because she looked just fine.
Here in Lalaland they don't test for gestational diabetes. Or Group Strep B. At all, not even if you ask for it. My other friend said that no one weighed her during the last month of her pregnancy. Not once. [And YES, their infant mortality is much lower than in the U.S.] So the baby told was big, really big. And the hospital decided that it was a suspected case of untreated gestational diabetes, so they started her on formula and blood draws every 4 hours. I actually fed her today and held her through a blood draw. And basically my friend shrugged and said it wasn't a big deal to her and wasn't worth fighting about, and it really wasn't. They used a SNS to feed the baby (so no nipple confusion issues), it wasn't much formula, and after pushing out a rather big baby my friend was unconcerned about the baby suffering through a few heel pricks.
It's hard to think back about how many hours I spent worrying about feeding the fusspot formula, calling our pediatrician, calling the hospital, calling the insurance, talking to the LC. And really? It's probably just not that big a deal to give a baby 10 ccs of formula a couple times the first day.
So in short, I want another baby. Now. And I need to be more calm about the process.
Oh, and good thing we had our 12-month check-up in the U.S. before our 12-month check-up here in Lalaland. Because while my baby is in the 30th percentile in the U.S. she's only in the 1st percentile here. Babies here are tall, blond, and apparently born healthy despite rather nonchalant prenatal care.
Friday, January 8, 2010
In which the fusspot proves yet again why we need to leave NYC
Subtitled: failing her first big school test.
But first, thank you so much for de-lurking! You have totally made my week. Sona, will you post a link to your blog? I can't seem to get there from your comment (which speaks oodles to my technical incompetence). And thanks for all the sleep advice (more on that below).
On the day we left NYC the fusspot had her first (and only) daycare interview. You should know that my child has been with a nanny/in daycare since she was 5 weeks old and she has no stranger anxiety, is super social, and loves blocks. That combined with a cute outfit (although not a clean nose) made me feel pretty confident as I dropped her at our local Montessori "meet and greet."
And what did my beautiful child do after I set her down next to a basket of blocks? Um, well ... she sat there with her mouth hanging open watching the other children. For 20 minutes. That's right folks, the fusspot did not lift a finger to touch a block (demonstrating her excellent fine motor skills from a combination of baby led weaning and her love of eating), crawl to any new toys (displaying her somewhat lackluster gross motor skills - our otherwise normal pediatrician keeps recommending PT for her), or even smile at any of the three teachers sitting with clipboards watching or the other children.
Nope. She sat there with her month hanging open for 20 minutes. Reclined on my lap during the subsequent circle time. And fell asleep within 60 seconds of being placed in her stroller.
School fail.
For the record, other children in our 'group' looked at books, built towers, ran around the room, matched plastic zoo animals to photos on the wall, counted (granted the age range was 13 months to 20 months).
So that pretty much finalizes it for us - an offer will be made to our top choice nanny on Sunday. More on that later and the traumas of American healthcare (in short, the nanny will lose her subsidized health care because of our general pay schema. We feel awful, but we also need to pay her on the books. How's that for making you feel guilty?)
New topic: shopping. I love, love, love to shop for the fusspot. Specifically really high-quality wooden toys. To that end, I peruse the local craigsli.st almost daily and visit goodwill at least every other week. Thus far the fusspot has an incredible collection of wooden toddler toys (including a pedal-less bike, 2 walking toys, gorgeous wooden stacking blocks, colored blocks, a round stacking ring, wooden animals, and a baby-safe marble roll (with very large wooden shapes instead of marbles). One thing which I saw during our 'meet and greet' was a really nice looking wooden balance scale. It seems like the type of toy she'd love now just for taking things on and off and that might actually be educational in a year or two. Something like this: balance toy or maybe this far more sophisticated balance toy but the one I saw was all wood and had a few more parts than option one but less complicated than option two. Any ideas where to find it?
For that matter, here's a list of the awesome toddler toys I wish I could buy for the fusspot over the next year:
felt alphabet letters (found through spearmintbaby.com)
doll sling (not that she's into dolls at all but you never know)
a wooden rainbow puzzle (like this one but larger - very popular over here in Lalaland or one of these)
a felt noah's ark (there's one I've been eyeing in a store on my walk to work all year - why don't they do sales over here?)
If you're wondering why all the classic toys are missing, it's basic my parents saved every. single. one. of. them. And since my sister is barren, I have free pick of them all (please read that with a good deal of sarcasm. I would trade all of those toys and more for a niece or nephew in an instant). Brio, big blocks, fisher price village, 1970s dress-up clothes, 2 suitcases of dolls and doll clothes ... they're all still in my parents closet. Of course, we don't have room for them yet but we will at some point.
And while we're dreaming, I'd love for my father to build the fusspot a much smaller version of this. Nothing cooler than a designated reading nook in your bedroom.
New topic: sleep.
We didn't do CIO yesterday night because I was having an I-want-to-cosleep-forever moment. And I was remembering all the good times. Like how the fusspot and I curled up on Monday night after getting back to Europe and slept for 16 hours. Yes, SIXTEEN. She ate, I moved her from my left to right side, but neither of us got out of bed. We were that tired.
And then tonight three things happened in rapid succession which convinced me we'd try again (nothing like consistent parenting, eh?)
a. She tried to push one of our barricades out of the way when we got into bed (New readers may not have heard my rant about how our 1970s-era furnished mid-19th C. mansion has a built in bedframe and not enough floor space to put the mattress on the floor next to it. As a result instead of sleeping on the floor like I'd prefer we sleep in a pretty low bedframe surrounded by a barricade of pack 'n play, unused crib, and 2 overturned wooden dining tables. It's secure enough that a sleepy baby couldn't roll out but probably not secure enough that an awake and focused toddler couldn't squirm out).
b. The fusspot pooed all over herself as we were leaving daycare. Up to her neck (thank you disposables) and I realized that I absolutely had to wash those clothes out tonight because they'd reek tomorrow.
c. I broke a bowl in the sink while making dinner. I thought I'd just clean it up after the fusspot went to sleep and then she wasn't going to sleep and I was worried I would fall asleep next to her and I realized that I absolutely could not wake up in the morning to an unwashed high chair and broken glass in the sink. Not possible. So after nursing and snuggling the baby for 45 minutes (after our bedtime routine, of course), I unceremoniously dumped her in her crib. Where she is currently howling.
Ah well, at least the poo is cleaned up and the broken glass has been removed, right?
But first, thank you so much for de-lurking! You have totally made my week. Sona, will you post a link to your blog? I can't seem to get there from your comment (which speaks oodles to my technical incompetence). And thanks for all the sleep advice (more on that below).
On the day we left NYC the fusspot had her first (and only) daycare interview. You should know that my child has been with a nanny/in daycare since she was 5 weeks old and she has no stranger anxiety, is super social, and loves blocks. That combined with a cute outfit (although not a clean nose) made me feel pretty confident as I dropped her at our local Montessori "meet and greet."
And what did my beautiful child do after I set her down next to a basket of blocks? Um, well ... she sat there with her mouth hanging open watching the other children. For 20 minutes. That's right folks, the fusspot did not lift a finger to touch a block (demonstrating her excellent fine motor skills from a combination of baby led weaning and her love of eating), crawl to any new toys (displaying her somewhat lackluster gross motor skills - our otherwise normal pediatrician keeps recommending PT for her), or even smile at any of the three teachers sitting with clipboards watching or the other children.
Nope. She sat there with her month hanging open for 20 minutes. Reclined on my lap during the subsequent circle time. And fell asleep within 60 seconds of being placed in her stroller.
School fail.
For the record, other children in our 'group' looked at books, built towers, ran around the room, matched plastic zoo animals to photos on the wall, counted (granted the age range was 13 months to 20 months).
So that pretty much finalizes it for us - an offer will be made to our top choice nanny on Sunday. More on that later and the traumas of American healthcare (in short, the nanny will lose her subsidized health care because of our general pay schema. We feel awful, but we also need to pay her on the books. How's that for making you feel guilty?)
New topic: shopping. I love, love, love to shop for the fusspot. Specifically really high-quality wooden toys. To that end, I peruse the local craigsli.st almost daily and visit goodwill at least every other week. Thus far the fusspot has an incredible collection of wooden toddler toys (including a pedal-less bike, 2 walking toys, gorgeous wooden stacking blocks, colored blocks, a round stacking ring, wooden animals, and a baby-safe marble roll (with very large wooden shapes instead of marbles). One thing which I saw during our 'meet and greet' was a really nice looking wooden balance scale. It seems like the type of toy she'd love now just for taking things on and off and that might actually be educational in a year or two. Something like this: balance toy or maybe this far more sophisticated balance toy but the one I saw was all wood and had a few more parts than option one but less complicated than option two. Any ideas where to find it?
For that matter, here's a list of the awesome toddler toys I wish I could buy for the fusspot over the next year:
felt alphabet letters (found through spearmintbaby.com)
doll sling (not that she's into dolls at all but you never know)
a wooden rainbow puzzle (like this one but larger - very popular over here in Lalaland or one of these)
a felt noah's ark (there's one I've been eyeing in a store on my walk to work all year - why don't they do sales over here?)
If you're wondering why all the classic toys are missing, it's basic my parents saved every. single. one. of. them. And since my sister is barren, I have free pick of them all (please read that with a good deal of sarcasm. I would trade all of those toys and more for a niece or nephew in an instant). Brio, big blocks, fisher price village, 1970s dress-up clothes, 2 suitcases of dolls and doll clothes ... they're all still in my parents closet. Of course, we don't have room for them yet but we will at some point.
And while we're dreaming, I'd love for my father to build the fusspot a much smaller version of this. Nothing cooler than a designated reading nook in your bedroom.
New topic: sleep.
We didn't do CIO yesterday night because I was having an I-want-to-cosleep-forever moment. And I was remembering all the good times. Like how the fusspot and I curled up on Monday night after getting back to Europe and slept for 16 hours. Yes, SIXTEEN. She ate, I moved her from my left to right side, but neither of us got out of bed. We were that tired.
And then tonight three things happened in rapid succession which convinced me we'd try again (nothing like consistent parenting, eh?)
a. She tried to push one of our barricades out of the way when we got into bed (New readers may not have heard my rant about how our 1970s-era furnished mid-19th C. mansion has a built in bedframe and not enough floor space to put the mattress on the floor next to it. As a result instead of sleeping on the floor like I'd prefer we sleep in a pretty low bedframe surrounded by a barricade of pack 'n play, unused crib, and 2 overturned wooden dining tables. It's secure enough that a sleepy baby couldn't roll out but probably not secure enough that an awake and focused toddler couldn't squirm out).
b. The fusspot pooed all over herself as we were leaving daycare. Up to her neck (thank you disposables) and I realized that I absolutely had to wash those clothes out tonight because they'd reek tomorrow.
c. I broke a bowl in the sink while making dinner. I thought I'd just clean it up after the fusspot went to sleep and then she wasn't going to sleep and I was worried I would fall asleep next to her and I realized that I absolutely could not wake up in the morning to an unwashed high chair and broken glass in the sink. Not possible. So after nursing and snuggling the baby for 45 minutes (after our bedtime routine, of course), I unceremoniously dumped her in her crib. Where she is currently howling.
Ah well, at least the poo is cleaned up and the broken glass has been removed, right?
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Fail
2 hours later and we'll just call that attempt a failure. The fusspot cried for an hour. She got louder every time I went in to check on her and since I could see her through the cracks in the crib I stopped going in every 10 minutes. Between the 59 minute mark and the 1:10 minute mark she was quiet so I went to crawl into bed.
Turns out my baby was just sitting bolt upright in her crib waiting for me to come back.
Repeat. It's 2:01 am and I'm tired. The fusspot is sitting bolt upright in her crib wide awake waiting for me. Oh well. At least I got a shower, right?
Turns out my baby was just sitting bolt upright in her crib waiting for me to come back.
Repeat. It's 2:01 am and I'm tired. The fusspot is sitting bolt upright in her crib wide awake waiting for me. Oh well. At least I got a shower, right?
Miserable
It's midnight and my baby is screaming her head off. In her crib.
Long-time readers may not know that my baby has never cried for more than 10 minutes in her life. She's just that relaxed a baby. And oh, I always jump up and fix whatever is bothering her.
But yesterday's dishes are still in the sink. I haven't showered yet on this continent or in the past 4 days. I had to put away some dinner leftovers.
I don't think this is going to be easy and I may not leave her for more than half an hour. We'll see. She does a modified CIO at daycare and her teachers tell me that she is routinely the only child out of ten not to take a nap in a day. She's been there for 6 months now.
And I really don't want to do CIO. I realize it works, and works really well for other families, but I just don't want to. But I'm also single parenting and living alone and I need to be able to do the dishes/laundry/e-mail/work in the evening. It's the only way our life works.
While I was in NYC JD and I had another conversation about why so many people we know put a photo of their child as their facebook photo. I agree that it's annoying and yet another reason I'm not on facebook (after not wanting my students to know about my personal life and not wanting to compete over how many 'friends' I have. Very few, and they're flakey). But I also think JD missed the point a bit. I think the reason so many people put their child as their facebook photo and otherwise seem to lose their own adult identity when they have little ones is that no one recognizes quite how much daily labor goes into raising children, especially the very little ones. My family and friends all know that I'm living over here alone, and yet I got absolutely no comments on how the fusspot is doing or what a well-behaved, well-fed, well-dressed child she is. It's all taken for granted. In fact, I still got nasty phone calls from relatives noting how slow I am to write thank-you notes or how I never call them. Relatives with grown children who have significantly more time on their hands than I do. And that is why so many people feel the need to push their child out in front of them.
I know it's not directly related but I do wish that a few of the people in my life realized that it's not all that easy to live alone with a one-year-old while working full-time (excluding my dear internets friends. Hi lurkers!). I never leave the house without either the baby or the breastpump with me. Never. And now I'm going to shower, and then quite likely nurse my baby back to sleep.
But maybe we'll try this again tomorrow. Or in a few months. I just don't think nursing her to sleep every nap, night and time she wakes up is sustainable. I read blogs of several woman who have done it but they don't seem to need to jump out of bed to do the dishes at 9 pm. My friend who never let her children cry also had a husband who came home and cleaned up and did much of her cooking, etc. in the afternoon. I need to work, and I want to spend every moment I'm not at work during the day playing with the fusspot (and she's only in daycare 4 days a week).
So we may just be onto a new era in parenting. I wish I could be there to soothe her and snuggle her and I love watching her smile at me as she wakes up. But right now I need to shower and do the dishes because no one else is going to do them for me.
Long-time readers may not know that my baby has never cried for more than 10 minutes in her life. She's just that relaxed a baby. And oh, I always jump up and fix whatever is bothering her.
But yesterday's dishes are still in the sink. I haven't showered yet on this continent or in the past 4 days. I had to put away some dinner leftovers.
I don't think this is going to be easy and I may not leave her for more than half an hour. We'll see. She does a modified CIO at daycare and her teachers tell me that she is routinely the only child out of ten not to take a nap in a day. She's been there for 6 months now.
And I really don't want to do CIO. I realize it works, and works really well for other families, but I just don't want to. But I'm also single parenting and living alone and I need to be able to do the dishes/laundry/e-mail/work in the evening. It's the only way our life works.
While I was in NYC JD and I had another conversation about why so many people we know put a photo of their child as their facebook photo. I agree that it's annoying and yet another reason I'm not on facebook (after not wanting my students to know about my personal life and not wanting to compete over how many 'friends' I have. Very few, and they're flakey). But I also think JD missed the point a bit. I think the reason so many people put their child as their facebook photo and otherwise seem to lose their own adult identity when they have little ones is that no one recognizes quite how much daily labor goes into raising children, especially the very little ones. My family and friends all know that I'm living over here alone, and yet I got absolutely no comments on how the fusspot is doing or what a well-behaved, well-fed, well-dressed child she is. It's all taken for granted. In fact, I still got nasty phone calls from relatives noting how slow I am to write thank-you notes or how I never call them. Relatives with grown children who have significantly more time on their hands than I do. And that is why so many people feel the need to push their child out in front of them.
I know it's not directly related but I do wish that a few of the people in my life realized that it's not all that easy to live alone with a one-year-old while working full-time (excluding my dear internets friends. Hi lurkers!). I never leave the house without either the baby or the breastpump with me. Never. And now I'm going to shower, and then quite likely nurse my baby back to sleep.
But maybe we'll try this again tomorrow. Or in a few months. I just don't think nursing her to sleep every nap, night and time she wakes up is sustainable. I read blogs of several woman who have done it but they don't seem to need to jump out of bed to do the dishes at 9 pm. My friend who never let her children cry also had a husband who came home and cleaned up and did much of her cooking, etc. in the afternoon. I need to work, and I want to spend every moment I'm not at work during the day playing with the fusspot (and she's only in daycare 4 days a week).
So we may just be onto a new era in parenting. I wish I could be there to soothe her and snuggle her and I love watching her smile at me as she wakes up. But right now I need to shower and do the dishes because no one else is going to do them for me.
Not much going on
We're back in Europe. Feeling very much like my current gmail status "invisible." Having a small tiff with the husband which is basically just the culmination of having only got one nap and very little extra night sleep time during my long-anticipated vacation. Nothing serious but I'm obviously still peeved. And it peeves me even more that JD doesn't understand that my trips to visit friends, including our fabulous exotic vacation this spring, are more relaxing than going home because my friends who have kids totally understand that I don't want to talk about what's for dinner and I really do appreciate the chance to nap.
New topic.
New years resolutions. I don't usually do them just because we're flooded with new years (secular, Rosh Hashanah and Chinese) but I've been feeling inspired reading other peoples. So this year I will attempt to:
1. write more paper letters, especially thank you notes
2. cook more meals which need to be served in more than one dish (i.e. make things like salads, sides, desserts to go with the entre)
3. whine less
In the spirit of delurking week, I'd love to know if you're reading this blog and haven't been commenting. Although honestly I read many blogs on which I never comment. A few I commented 10+ times without the other blogger hoping over to my blog so I stopped commenting (but not reading if it's interesting). The other blogs I read are not infertility blogs. I read several big family blogs because I find them fun and I do someday hope to find myself in that category by some means which probably will not include my hard-to-find eggs and also a bunch of photography blogs because I love taking photos. Actually JD and I share an interest in photography and we make a fabulous team. He looks at a good photo and starts talking about the light and the aperture and I looked at it and say 'I love the soft white dress with cardigan and hair clip look.' So that's my de-lurking confession, but I'd still love to know who is reading.
Tomorrow I'll tell you all about how my daughter failed her first school test. In the finest of styles.
New topic.
New years resolutions. I don't usually do them just because we're flooded with new years (secular, Rosh Hashanah and Chinese) but I've been feeling inspired reading other peoples. So this year I will attempt to:
1. write more paper letters, especially thank you notes
2. cook more meals which need to be served in more than one dish (i.e. make things like salads, sides, desserts to go with the entre)
3. whine less
In the spirit of delurking week, I'd love to know if you're reading this blog and haven't been commenting. Although honestly I read many blogs on which I never comment. A few I commented 10+ times without the other blogger hoping over to my blog so I stopped commenting (but not reading if it's interesting). The other blogs I read are not infertility blogs. I read several big family blogs because I find them fun and I do someday hope to find myself in that category by some means which probably will not include my hard-to-find eggs and also a bunch of photography blogs because I love taking photos. Actually JD and I share an interest in photography and we make a fabulous team. He looks at a good photo and starts talking about the light and the aperture and I looked at it and say 'I love the soft white dress with cardigan and hair clip look.' So that's my de-lurking confession, but I'd still love to know who is reading.
Tomorrow I'll tell you all about how my daughter failed her first school test. In the finest of styles.
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