When you are an adult 6 months age difference is nothing to think about between two people, but when you hold up a newborn and a 6-month-old baby, there is a world of difference. It is amazing how quickly they grow, but it’s just not only that, it is watching life unfold before you. It like watching one of those PBS nature show where you see a flower grow from seed in speed up time.
In the beginning (a whole 7 months ago- ha!) I felt as though every waking moment I had to somehow educate my baby. I was worried that I just wasn’t doing enough. (Even though now I have come to know that by just observing where my baby is at I can gauge what challenges he is up to.) Everything that I had doubts about I was double and triple checking on the Internet and researching with books. I could only hope that I was doing everything right and not traumatizing my baby. All this researching often led to more confusion and uncertainty.
In my previous statements I had mentioned the feeling that I wouldn’t have made it as a mother back in the pioneer days. What I am realizing is that one, it doesn’t matter- and two; I am a pioneer in this modern age of information overload and baby product propaganda. We as mothers and fathers have to trudge through this overpopulated swamp of information and somehow find our way to dry land. We have to pick through the words and advice from every doctor, mother, grandparent and stranger and somehow filter it until it’s usable. And who is to say what the right way is when there is a book written from every angle, an opinion from every side? Let’s face it- there are as many ways as it takes. The goal is the same, no matter how many roads lead to it.
At the 6-month marker, I feel like I’ve finally got my sea legs on this mother ship. Everything that has led up to this point has guided me to my own personal mother’s artist statement. Granted, I’m still working on that statement, but I feel like I have a strong foundation to begin writing it down.
January 16th
It’s a wonder I can write anything down, I feel like I’m behind because by the time I write something a thousand new things have happened. He’s crawling now, so I have one eye on the screen and one on him. He’s also looking a little hillbilly with two bottom teeth and one front tooth- I love it, yet it’s a reminder how quickly things are changing.
I feel like we are on the cusp of a new change. As of two days ago, nursing him to sleep isn’t doing it all the way- why with his new moving techniques he is simply rolling over and backing up on the whole sleep situation. Beep, beep… I am aware that I had to cross this bridge eventually; I was just hoping that it would last a little longer, because it has been working so efficiently. Now I must face that we need some new tools for sleep. It takes two to tango for this dance.
Until I became a parent I thought linear about the whole parenting thing. Like a math equation you think that the answer would be simple a + b = c. But no, there is personality involved in this equation and we’re not just talking about the baby. This is where the drama happens. This is why for one parenting question; there are many different answers that work. The real question is finding the answer that works for my baby and me.
January 22, 2013
Such thrashing, such fuss as though sleeping was such a battle to be fought. I was almost laughing out loud last night while I was putting my son to bed. After all his fussing and tossing and turning he finally settled down, but not before he moaned like 5 times. So theatrical I tried to stifle my laughter. It reminded me of When Harry Met Sally when Harry practices moaning on the phone to Sally. It reminded me of something I would do in my twenties when I was really tired and on the border of being silly.
This kid, he cracks me up.
February 28th
I’m surprised I know the date, truth be told, actually I’m not too sure I do. I have lost account of what day of the month it is, although I’m still good at knowing what day of the week it is. I can’t believe it; Weston is on my back right now taking a nap. What good fortune has befallen me? He has been leading the resistance of napping, and seems to have dropped his late afternoon nap- that on top of his mid afternoon nap taking an hour cut from his normal routine. Normal routine, ha! Like that really exists. On the recommendation of a friend I splurged and bought a woven wrap. These things are pricey! Hand woven in Guatemala, I thought maybe I could make one, and there happens to be a fabric store that sells hand woven fabric by the yard, but it turns out that it’s just about the same cost as buying one. So taking the path of lest resistance, I searched on line and found one.
You wouldn’t think that a long piece of fabric could be so complicated. But baby wrapping takes some practice. I was a little scared trying the ruck sac position (back position), but now when I place Weston in it and fling him over my shoulder, he laughs- well more like he giggles! Granted I’m on my knees when I do this, just in case something goes wrong the fall would be minimal. But I love it. It’s a little long, but I’m getting good at wrapping him fairly quickly. He even smiles when he see’s me putting it on. I go on walks with him around the block, I pop him on my back when I want to do light yard work or chores. I wrap him on the front when he’s tired and crabby, but not sleepy enough to go to sleep. I’m determined to get my monies worth of this thing.
It’s easy for me to become obsessed with these baby carriers and slings. I’ve tried many and so far Weston likes the Bjorn front carrier (even though there is a group of baby wearing people that poo-poo these) and the woven wrap. I found a used Maya ring sling on Craigslist, but I have to say, after the other two, side slings just don’t feel “right”. I like the even quality of the top two as well as being able to be hands free. The Bjorn I leave in the car and just pop him into it for quick runs into stores. The woven wrap I use for everything else. What I need to be is content with what I have and stop searching for the even better product.
So besides wraps being awesome- the other tool in my arsenal is the Kindle. When I go to breast feed my baby- I have my kindle there loaded with books. It’s my reading time. I’m content only reading during the feeding times. In fact, regular ole’ books just wont do for me at this stage of my life. I would need one extra arm to be able to pull off reading a normal book and breastfeeding Weston at the same time.
March 2nd
Geeze Louise. He’s creeping up on his one-year birthday, I just can’t believe it. Spring is in the air today, and it makes me happy with a squeeze of nostalgia. This is the time to venture outside and get away from the house. I’m looking forward to the big family vacation where Weston gets to meet his Uncle Josh and his family for the first time. The only thing I’m slightly nervous/curious about is the flight over. Even though it will be highly unlikely that Weston will remember, I am excited to make new memories for myself with the family. I really lose track of how time goes by until I see how quickly my niece is growing, and now the same goes for my son.
My head is swimming with ideas and my hands are itching to make things (such is the inspiration of spring). In my minds eye I have a big white board in which I am constantly writing down ideas and thoughts and problem solving solutions. Everyday I look at this board and am reminded of what I need to do to progress and keep going. I think to myself I should really get a big board for the house so I can execute what my mind has been thinking of doing. But I don’t. Maybe I will happen upon one day, maybe not, but for now scrap paper will have to do- although it doesn’t seem as impressive or inspiring as a big board.
March 5, 2013
First trip to the ER this morning. Nothing major, although I always think about the worst-case scenario. He spat up all his milk that I just breastfed him, and then he pooped and then he spat up yellow bile. Well, checking in with the nurse from our pediatrician she said that anytime there is yellow or green bile, they recommend an E.R. visit. Even though he didn’t cry or seem out of sorts, the nurse urged me to take him. Well, of course I took him- how could I not take him on the off chance something was seriously wrong. So we mosey on over there in no particular rush, and not exactly taking our time either. We got admitted right away, and I thought, wow, no ones here, this should go fast.
Yeah, right.
I’m not going to go into all the details, but I’m going to vent that doctors need to be a bit clearer on things. After seeing Weston and telling us that we need to give him 5 cc’s of Pedialyte every five minutes and to only be concerned if he spits up green bile or blood- I took a look at the bottle they gave us which was green colored Pedialyte. So….if he spits up this green liquid I should be concerned? Oh, good point let me have the nurse get you a different color. I was a little confused when the doctor left. I thought, well that’s it, right? We go home and shove this drink down his throat. But she had said before she was leaving that she will be back to check on us. Hmm.
Well by the time the nurse comes in with a new drink, Weston has fallen asleep. As she bangs through the door- she informs us that we need to wake him up and give him the drink. Shortly thereafter the doctor follows in to see how things are going. Well- he’s been asleep. I figured that was good, because he was exhausted and a rested baby is more likely to be well. It was then that she informed us that in order for us to leave he would have to take at least 3 more doses of the drink to insure that he’s holding it down. Ohhh. Well why didn’t you say so to begin with. I had thought that it was our homework to do, not a pop quiz. At that point we set our timer and dosed him. I wasn’t playing around- I was sick of being in this room and was pretty sure that Weston was going to be O.K.
From talking with the doctor I came to understand that yellow bile wasn’t as problematic as green bile. So keeping the baby hydrated, hence the baby Gatorade, is numero uno- but in small doses. This is basically what the nurse had told me on the phone, however the only difference was that she mentioned anytime there is green or yellow bile, they recommend going to the ER.
So was it a waste of time and money? Part of me says yes, and part of me says no. I learned something new and if this were to happen again, I wouldn’t go to the ER. I mean $125 co-pay should teach me something, right?
There is a little more to this story, like how our pediatrician’s nurse told us not to give him milk for 24 hours, I found this out when Andy hand scribbled a note while I was breastfeeding Weston. No way was I going to do that- and it contradicted what the ER doctor had told me. But I have to say at this point of my motherhood journey, although I had a moment of hesitation and worry- I was confident on how I handled Weston’s recovery. Sometimes you have to filter what the doctors and nurses say to fit the needs and temperament of your child. And that is what I did.
The same day Andy got sick. I have to tell you at this point, I didn’t have much to give. Dealing with a recovering baby and then having the daddy sick as well… he was on his own sorry to say. I had enough on my plate and just couldn’t muster up any reserve for my husband. I wish I could, but my well was dry.
March 14, 2013
I did a bad thing and looked at my High School yearbooks. I wanted to flip through them and see if I still wanted to hold on to them. My short answer to that is No, but that is not what this is about.
It’s about reliving that solitary feeling I had growing up in small town Prescott. Feeling like I never got the whole picture of things and like I was always missing out on something. So when I looked through my yearbooks that feeling washed over me again. Seeing all these people that I never knew, activities I never joined in, boyfriends I never had, I get this creepy lonely feeling. This was not my story of high school. My story didn’t make the pages of the yearbook.
I always felt that Prescott was a town in which you leave in search for the better. Maybe this was jaded by the fact that my family moved away from Prescott slowly one by one until it was just me and the dog left behind. But no, I felt this way even before that happened- perhaps that feeling was enhanced by them leaving.
I never understood my friends that stayed behind, didn’t go to college, or got married and had babies or some combination of all three.
I never understood the wanting to get married, or the wanting to have babies at so young of an age. Even after I finished college, this sentiment was alien to me.
But there are those that know early on and they do it. They have families and go forward. And there are people like me that need more time to come to that understanding. And of course there are those who want families, but finding the right person may take longer than expected.
It wasn’t until my trip to Italy, right after I graduated from college that I came to understand something about this lonely sentiment I had. Fate was in my hands, not those around me. If I wanted something, it was me who was going to have to work for it. It was there in Italy where I was expecting the trip to carry me like a big wave from here to there that I realized that my own happiness was something I would have to work for. Not something someone else could give me. There was no one there to take my hand and lead the way, it was time to grow up and realize that I had to carry myself.
This may not seem like it connects to my small town lonely feeling, but it does. That feeling of missing out on things persisted until Italy where I discovered that it was up to me to control my future, my fate. It doesn’t matter whom so and so is doing these days. Besides the slight curiosity that I might have, it doesn’t change my life. And that’s what it comes down to- my life. My decisions, my choices, my life.
It’s still something that I have to remind myself about. When I feel like things are passing me by I remember. Remember the lessons it took so long for me to come to understand.
In the beginning (a whole 7 months ago- ha!) I felt as though every waking moment I had to somehow educate my baby. I was worried that I just wasn’t doing enough. (Even though now I have come to know that by just observing where my baby is at I can gauge what challenges he is up to.) Everything that I had doubts about I was double and triple checking on the Internet and researching with books. I could only hope that I was doing everything right and not traumatizing my baby. All this researching often led to more confusion and uncertainty.
In my previous statements I had mentioned the feeling that I wouldn’t have made it as a mother back in the pioneer days. What I am realizing is that one, it doesn’t matter- and two; I am a pioneer in this modern age of information overload and baby product propaganda. We as mothers and fathers have to trudge through this overpopulated swamp of information and somehow find our way to dry land. We have to pick through the words and advice from every doctor, mother, grandparent and stranger and somehow filter it until it’s usable. And who is to say what the right way is when there is a book written from every angle, an opinion from every side? Let’s face it- there are as many ways as it takes. The goal is the same, no matter how many roads lead to it.
At the 6-month marker, I feel like I’ve finally got my sea legs on this mother ship. Everything that has led up to this point has guided me to my own personal mother’s artist statement. Granted, I’m still working on that statement, but I feel like I have a strong foundation to begin writing it down.
January 16th
It’s a wonder I can write anything down, I feel like I’m behind because by the time I write something a thousand new things have happened. He’s crawling now, so I have one eye on the screen and one on him. He’s also looking a little hillbilly with two bottom teeth and one front tooth- I love it, yet it’s a reminder how quickly things are changing.
I feel like we are on the cusp of a new change. As of two days ago, nursing him to sleep isn’t doing it all the way- why with his new moving techniques he is simply rolling over and backing up on the whole sleep situation. Beep, beep… I am aware that I had to cross this bridge eventually; I was just hoping that it would last a little longer, because it has been working so efficiently. Now I must face that we need some new tools for sleep. It takes two to tango for this dance.
Until I became a parent I thought linear about the whole parenting thing. Like a math equation you think that the answer would be simple a + b = c. But no, there is personality involved in this equation and we’re not just talking about the baby. This is where the drama happens. This is why for one parenting question; there are many different answers that work. The real question is finding the answer that works for my baby and me.
January 22, 2013
Such thrashing, such fuss as though sleeping was such a battle to be fought. I was almost laughing out loud last night while I was putting my son to bed. After all his fussing and tossing and turning he finally settled down, but not before he moaned like 5 times. So theatrical I tried to stifle my laughter. It reminded me of When Harry Met Sally when Harry practices moaning on the phone to Sally. It reminded me of something I would do in my twenties when I was really tired and on the border of being silly.
This kid, he cracks me up.
February 28th
I’m surprised I know the date, truth be told, actually I’m not too sure I do. I have lost account of what day of the month it is, although I’m still good at knowing what day of the week it is. I can’t believe it; Weston is on my back right now taking a nap. What good fortune has befallen me? He has been leading the resistance of napping, and seems to have dropped his late afternoon nap- that on top of his mid afternoon nap taking an hour cut from his normal routine. Normal routine, ha! Like that really exists. On the recommendation of a friend I splurged and bought a woven wrap. These things are pricey! Hand woven in Guatemala, I thought maybe I could make one, and there happens to be a fabric store that sells hand woven fabric by the yard, but it turns out that it’s just about the same cost as buying one. So taking the path of lest resistance, I searched on line and found one.
You wouldn’t think that a long piece of fabric could be so complicated. But baby wrapping takes some practice. I was a little scared trying the ruck sac position (back position), but now when I place Weston in it and fling him over my shoulder, he laughs- well more like he giggles! Granted I’m on my knees when I do this, just in case something goes wrong the fall would be minimal. But I love it. It’s a little long, but I’m getting good at wrapping him fairly quickly. He even smiles when he see’s me putting it on. I go on walks with him around the block, I pop him on my back when I want to do light yard work or chores. I wrap him on the front when he’s tired and crabby, but not sleepy enough to go to sleep. I’m determined to get my monies worth of this thing.
It’s easy for me to become obsessed with these baby carriers and slings. I’ve tried many and so far Weston likes the Bjorn front carrier (even though there is a group of baby wearing people that poo-poo these) and the woven wrap. I found a used Maya ring sling on Craigslist, but I have to say, after the other two, side slings just don’t feel “right”. I like the even quality of the top two as well as being able to be hands free. The Bjorn I leave in the car and just pop him into it for quick runs into stores. The woven wrap I use for everything else. What I need to be is content with what I have and stop searching for the even better product.
So besides wraps being awesome- the other tool in my arsenal is the Kindle. When I go to breast feed my baby- I have my kindle there loaded with books. It’s my reading time. I’m content only reading during the feeding times. In fact, regular ole’ books just wont do for me at this stage of my life. I would need one extra arm to be able to pull off reading a normal book and breastfeeding Weston at the same time.
March 2nd
Geeze Louise. He’s creeping up on his one-year birthday, I just can’t believe it. Spring is in the air today, and it makes me happy with a squeeze of nostalgia. This is the time to venture outside and get away from the house. I’m looking forward to the big family vacation where Weston gets to meet his Uncle Josh and his family for the first time. The only thing I’m slightly nervous/curious about is the flight over. Even though it will be highly unlikely that Weston will remember, I am excited to make new memories for myself with the family. I really lose track of how time goes by until I see how quickly my niece is growing, and now the same goes for my son.
My head is swimming with ideas and my hands are itching to make things (such is the inspiration of spring). In my minds eye I have a big white board in which I am constantly writing down ideas and thoughts and problem solving solutions. Everyday I look at this board and am reminded of what I need to do to progress and keep going. I think to myself I should really get a big board for the house so I can execute what my mind has been thinking of doing. But I don’t. Maybe I will happen upon one day, maybe not, but for now scrap paper will have to do- although it doesn’t seem as impressive or inspiring as a big board.
March 5, 2013
First trip to the ER this morning. Nothing major, although I always think about the worst-case scenario. He spat up all his milk that I just breastfed him, and then he pooped and then he spat up yellow bile. Well, checking in with the nurse from our pediatrician she said that anytime there is yellow or green bile, they recommend an E.R. visit. Even though he didn’t cry or seem out of sorts, the nurse urged me to take him. Well, of course I took him- how could I not take him on the off chance something was seriously wrong. So we mosey on over there in no particular rush, and not exactly taking our time either. We got admitted right away, and I thought, wow, no ones here, this should go fast.
Yeah, right.
I’m not going to go into all the details, but I’m going to vent that doctors need to be a bit clearer on things. After seeing Weston and telling us that we need to give him 5 cc’s of Pedialyte every five minutes and to only be concerned if he spits up green bile or blood- I took a look at the bottle they gave us which was green colored Pedialyte. So….if he spits up this green liquid I should be concerned? Oh, good point let me have the nurse get you a different color. I was a little confused when the doctor left. I thought, well that’s it, right? We go home and shove this drink down his throat. But she had said before she was leaving that she will be back to check on us. Hmm.
Well by the time the nurse comes in with a new drink, Weston has fallen asleep. As she bangs through the door- she informs us that we need to wake him up and give him the drink. Shortly thereafter the doctor follows in to see how things are going. Well- he’s been asleep. I figured that was good, because he was exhausted and a rested baby is more likely to be well. It was then that she informed us that in order for us to leave he would have to take at least 3 more doses of the drink to insure that he’s holding it down. Ohhh. Well why didn’t you say so to begin with. I had thought that it was our homework to do, not a pop quiz. At that point we set our timer and dosed him. I wasn’t playing around- I was sick of being in this room and was pretty sure that Weston was going to be O.K.
From talking with the doctor I came to understand that yellow bile wasn’t as problematic as green bile. So keeping the baby hydrated, hence the baby Gatorade, is numero uno- but in small doses. This is basically what the nurse had told me on the phone, however the only difference was that she mentioned anytime there is green or yellow bile, they recommend going to the ER.
So was it a waste of time and money? Part of me says yes, and part of me says no. I learned something new and if this were to happen again, I wouldn’t go to the ER. I mean $125 co-pay should teach me something, right?
There is a little more to this story, like how our pediatrician’s nurse told us not to give him milk for 24 hours, I found this out when Andy hand scribbled a note while I was breastfeeding Weston. No way was I going to do that- and it contradicted what the ER doctor had told me. But I have to say at this point of my motherhood journey, although I had a moment of hesitation and worry- I was confident on how I handled Weston’s recovery. Sometimes you have to filter what the doctors and nurses say to fit the needs and temperament of your child. And that is what I did.
The same day Andy got sick. I have to tell you at this point, I didn’t have much to give. Dealing with a recovering baby and then having the daddy sick as well… he was on his own sorry to say. I had enough on my plate and just couldn’t muster up any reserve for my husband. I wish I could, but my well was dry.
March 14, 2013
I did a bad thing and looked at my High School yearbooks. I wanted to flip through them and see if I still wanted to hold on to them. My short answer to that is No, but that is not what this is about.
It’s about reliving that solitary feeling I had growing up in small town Prescott. Feeling like I never got the whole picture of things and like I was always missing out on something. So when I looked through my yearbooks that feeling washed over me again. Seeing all these people that I never knew, activities I never joined in, boyfriends I never had, I get this creepy lonely feeling. This was not my story of high school. My story didn’t make the pages of the yearbook.
I always felt that Prescott was a town in which you leave in search for the better. Maybe this was jaded by the fact that my family moved away from Prescott slowly one by one until it was just me and the dog left behind. But no, I felt this way even before that happened- perhaps that feeling was enhanced by them leaving.
I never understood my friends that stayed behind, didn’t go to college, or got married and had babies or some combination of all three.
I never understood the wanting to get married, or the wanting to have babies at so young of an age. Even after I finished college, this sentiment was alien to me.
But there are those that know early on and they do it. They have families and go forward. And there are people like me that need more time to come to that understanding. And of course there are those who want families, but finding the right person may take longer than expected.
It wasn’t until my trip to Italy, right after I graduated from college that I came to understand something about this lonely sentiment I had. Fate was in my hands, not those around me. If I wanted something, it was me who was going to have to work for it. It was there in Italy where I was expecting the trip to carry me like a big wave from here to there that I realized that my own happiness was something I would have to work for. Not something someone else could give me. There was no one there to take my hand and lead the way, it was time to grow up and realize that I had to carry myself.
This may not seem like it connects to my small town lonely feeling, but it does. That feeling of missing out on things persisted until Italy where I discovered that it was up to me to control my future, my fate. It doesn’t matter whom so and so is doing these days. Besides the slight curiosity that I might have, it doesn’t change my life. And that’s what it comes down to- my life. My decisions, my choices, my life.
It’s still something that I have to remind myself about. When I feel like things are passing me by I remember. Remember the lessons it took so long for me to come to understand.
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