The ABCs of Motherhood: J

J is for Johnny-Jump-Up! 

This thing was awesome. It was hard to actually catch Alex sitting/standing still in this thing. I would definitely recommend one of these contraptions to moms everywhere.

The ABCs of Motherhood: I

I, as in me, myself, and I. Identity. I've always felt that I needed to define who I am; I think most people do. Who am I? Am I really who I say I am? Or, am I just pretending to be who I am? Or, worse yet, am I trying to be someone I'm really not?

I have always known I wanted to be a mom. I may not know what I want out of my career, but I've always known that having kids was in the cards for me. If I wasn't able to get pregnant, I would have adopted. I couldn't imagine my life without kids. But, now that I have one, the quest for defining "I" is becoming more difficult.

I have started to hate to introduce myself. When people ask what I do, I'm half-ashamed and half-delighted to say that I'm a stay-at-home mom. I feel like a walking contradiction most of the time. I absolutely adore staying home with Alex, but I also hate being home all day. It's weird. I want to be a great mom, but I don't want mom-hood to be the only thing that defines me. Most days being a mom ranks high on my list. I love the snuggles, how no one but me will do when he gets hurt, the big crocodile tears, the "ma-mas" and "da-das" that are directed at me. Other days I wish I could be a little more free to forget. I'd love to go out and just have a crazy, fun time again. Now there's a part of me walking (or crawling anyway) around in the world that cannot be ignored, even when I know Alex is safe with a capable husband, grandparent, friend, or babysitter.

Defining "I" is more difficult because I cannot imagine myself without defining my relationship with my little boy. I think we all are defined by our relationships with others, but this is a little different. Never before did I have the urge to say, "My name is Jayme, and I have a husband." I did not introduce myself by saying, "Hi. I'm Jayme. I have loving parents and one sister." But, I feel like I can't help but drag Alex into every conversation. I guess I'll have to live with a "love me, love my kid" philosophy.

The ABCs of Motherhood: H

Hurt. Happiness. Heart. 

I've been struggling with the letter H for about a week. I just was not sure what to say, or how to say it.

Hurt. 
Alex and I have been going through a lot of hurt this month. His hurt is physical, mine emotional. Alex is climbing on everything: the buffet, the kitchen cabinets, patio doors, closet doors, trash cans, bookshelves, dressers, the crib, the dining room table, his stroller, the desk. With all this climbing comes a lot of falling. I'm of the philosophy that you should let a little kid explore as much as possible as long as they can do so reasonably safely. I don't catch him every time he falls, but I do snuggle him if he cries after bumping his head or scratching his hand. Alex gets hurt, but it doesn't ever last very long. He's resilient and on to something new, usually within a matter of seconds.

My hurt is not so quick to heal. I'm still hurting over the death of my dad. I've known for a long time that life is not fair, but this seems more unfair than usual. I'm also struggling with adjusting to California. It's beautiful here, but I'm finding it rather lonely. Ben works long hours. He's gone at 6 a.m. and usually doesn't get home until after 8 p.m. That's a lot of hours alone. On top of that, my job search has been pretty fruitless. I'm trying to get out and meet people, but it's rather difficult to make new friends. I feel like I had so many good friends in Madison. I'm sure there are good people here too, but it takes time to really get to know them.   

Happiness. 
Despite the hurt, there is a lot of happiness in my day. Alex is almost always a constant source of joy. It's hard not to smile when he spends most of his day being so darned cute. He has no idea that I cannot sing, and he always smiles so big when I really belt it out. He giggles when I give him raspberries before a diaper change. He talks, and talks, and talks, and talks every morning when he wakes up. It's like he's been saving up all his dreams from the night before and cannot wait to start telling me about them in the morning.

Heart. 
I once read this quote:

Making the decision to have a child is momentous.
It is to decide forever to have your heart
go walking around outside your body.

 ~Elizabeth Stone

I do not know who Elizabeth Stone is, but I now I know how she feels.

Yesterday, I was working on a menu for the upcoming month. We are trying to cut down on our grocery bill, so I'm trying to plan our menus, use coupons, and make meals with less complicated ingredients. I'll post about the experience later. But, my attention was not completely on Alex. He was crawling around the living room and dining room. I could hear him babbling. I saw him climbing over his carseat, chewing on everything, and exploring his world. I was typing and trying to partially pay attention to him at the same time. I heard him go into the kitchen. I'm okay with him playing in there, because it's all baby-proofed. There's not much trouble he can get into. A couple minutes later, I realized he was being awfully quiet.

A quiet child strikes fear in a mother's heart. I quickly got up to check on him in the kitchen. Not there.

Hmm.

I quickly glanced around the dining room and living room. Not there. I checked behind every chair. I checked in the Moses basket. I called his name.  I checked the stairs. I start panicking, hyperventilating, heart racing. Under the desk. Under a blanket that is lying flat on the ground. I call his name again, knowing in my head that he won't respond in any way I can hear. He only turns his head when I say his name. He is not downstairs.

I run upstairs and do a check of his bedroom, our bedroom, and the bathroom. He's not upstairs.

I go back downstairs. I check behind the curtains.  I check the closets, even though the doors were closed. I check outside on the back patio. I check outside by the front door. There is something from the UPS man, but no baby boy. Now, I'm in tears. I am freaking out. Did the UPS man take him? Surely I would have heard if someone walked into my home and took my kid. But, now I'm starting to doubt myself. Yep, terrible parent. Plus, I'm sure my little guy is freaking out, or at least he will freak out when he wants his mama and she's not there.

I run back upstairs, dreading making a phone call to 911. I hear the tiniest noise. Hope! I go back into my bedroom, and there's my little guy. He's chewing on something. I scoop him up and hold him tight. I don't let go for at least ten minutes, and only then when he insists that I put him down. My heart...climbing up an entire set of stairs on his own. Thank goodness he did not fall. Thank goodness I found him. Thank goodness I have him. 

The ABCs of Mommyhood: G

Grandparents are the best!

They come when you're born.

They are willing to hang out or snuggle.

They come for big life events.

 They make you laugh.

   

They carry your bottle when you ask. 

They are always really proud to show you off.

 

And they are snuggly and warm!

The ABCs of Mommyhood: F

Food

Is anyone else out there attempting to feed their child solid foods? And, failing miserably?

We nurse on a very specific schedule, because we feel that Alex sleeps better when he has a more specific nursing schedule. Every four hours, Alex nurses. I attempt to alternate nursing with feeding him every four hours--so he's either nursing or being fed solids every two hours throughout the day. He usually acts hungry before it's time to nurse, but he often refuses to eat his solids when I try to feed him. 

We started giving Alex rice cereal around 5 months. Then, we switched to fruits. I had always heard that babies liked the fruits because they are a little sweeter. Well, not Alex. I attempted to feed him peaches, and he made a scrunched up, "yucky!" face.  I tried to feed him blueberries and bananas this morning.

This is what I got for my efforts.

He does like some vegetables. Despite the fact that they smell horrid, he apparently likes peas.

Ben has better luck than I do. Perhaps it's because I smell like milk. Why settle for less than the best?

The doctor says there is nothing to worry about; he'll take to eating in his own good time. But, I cannot help but worry. Is he getting all his vitamins and nutrients? Is he starving? Would he eat if I offered something different? Worry - that's the real work of parenting.

Then there is the whole ordeal of attempting to make our own baby food. I really need to get started with that. But, I hate making up a bunch of stuff just to have him scrunch up his nose at it. It's not like it only takes a few minutes to make something. I did buy an immersion blender. Now, I just have to get to work with making something. I'm considering just pureeing whatever we eat at night to feed to Alex the next day. At least then I'm not attempting to make a bunch of special food. Anyone out there have thoughts on that approach? Or, what did you do if you're making your own baby food?

The ABCs of Mommyhood: E

Exercise.

I should do more exercise. This thought is not really unique to mommyhood. I thought this often before I became a mom. However, now the need to exercise is more imperative. I really need to lose the baby weight.

Believe it or not, I had actually lost all my baby weight. If you had asked me at the end of July, I would have happily told you that I was back to pre-baby weight. Yay! Go me! I had done nothing to deserve this. I was breastfeeding and avoiding exercise like the plague. Rumor has it that you burn 600 calories per day breastfeeding. I have not been able to verify that with any reliable source material, but it's a great story I tell myself each time I reach for another Oreo. Regardless of my terrible eating habits, I really had lost the baby weight. All 43 pounds of it.

Then, I went to Missouri. My dad was receiving hospice care at home. Since I don't have a job, I went back to spend time with my dad and mom. It was a rather difficult and trying time. That's a story for another day. I was home for almost four weeks. Four weeks in Missouri could wreck anybody's diet--and I mean diet in the loosest sense of the word. From February until July, I ate my fair share of sweets, but I also ate a ton of fruits and vegetables.

Then, there was August in Missouri. My parents are both well-liked in my small hometown. When people in small towns are suffering, their friends bring food and lots of it. There's nothing like homemade chicken and dumplings to help you through your grief, unless it's beef lasagna, fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, meatloaf, brisket, pork loin, or ham. There was also any number of desserts to choose from: german chocolate cake, chocolate pie, homemade coconut creme pie, brownies with nuts, brownies without nuts, lemon bars, chocolate chip cookies, etc, etc. The fruits and veggies were sort of lacking, with the exception of fresh tomatoes out of the garden. Plus, there was more soda and sweet tea than we could drink. I gained 10 pounds in less than a month. Yay! Go me!

So, now I need to exercise. But, it's nearly impossible with an infant. My kid hardly ever naps, so I've decided I have to wake up early to get my work out in. Jillian Michaels and I had words this morning. Most of my words were not very nice ones. But, I have used my 30-Day Shred video twice in the last four days, so that's saying something. I'll keep the interwebs updated on whether or not I actually make any progress with exercising on a semi-regular basis.

I feel like this post was really about food, but that's way better than exercising anyway.

This is me about a week before Alex joined us.
Luckily, most of those 43 pounds really were
concentrated in my belly!

The ABCs of Mommyhood: D

Does anyone else out there have mixed feelings about taking the baby to the doctor? We went today, and I am now a total grump. I know that the doctor occasionally runs late, especially pediatricians. I tried my best to be patient. Doctors get behind when there are sick kids, so I'm very thankful that it's not my kid who is sick. But I still cannot help but be a little frustrated that I spent over two hours at the doctor's office today for a simple 5-minute appointment. Two hours of trying to keep a crawling baby still feels more like two days. My kid is a total wiggleworm. If he's not allowed to crawl on the floor, he will do his best to crawl up my belly/chest/neck. I'm exhausted! Plus, I hate how he cries when he gets his shots.

On top of all that, I think I am also annoyed at myself for becoming competitive over something that absolutely does not matter.  You see, when Alex was born, he was rather long - 21.5 inches. And, for his one-month, two-month, and four-month appointments, Alex was generally in the ninetieth percentile (or higher) for height. Today, he was only in the seventy-first percentile. Honestly, who cares? I care, that's who. The problem is that I hate that I care. This is one of the measurements that is notoriously inaccurate. Here I am being grumpy that I cannot brag about my tall baby anymore. I hope that I am not one of those ultra-competitive moms. Ugh. How do you find a good balance between being your kid's biggest fan and proudest supporter without pushing them to grow up before they have to? I want him to stay tiny and get bigger at the same time. No one told me that parenting is a constant battle in your own head!

My average-sized kid playing on the floor at the doctor's office.