I’m only one day late, in typical fashion. I have a post brewing about extended nursing and how I never expected to still be breastfeeding. About how it contributes to my mental health and how it impacts our family. But for now, this beautiful moment from this morning.
What an amazing, empowering event to take part in! Thank you to my friend A and her husband and son for joining us!
Back in my darkest days I could have never envisioned having a day as good as today. Thank you, Postpartum Progress, for all you do to help moms like me.
Wishing you a wonderful holiday season.
We’ve entered the fun phase when babies hate to nap for fear they might miss something. Every naptime begins as a scene from Goldilocks and the Three Bears: too tired? Not tired enough? Just right?
I only hit “just right” about 50% of the time. Which means at least once a day, I nurse and snuggle her only to have her thrash her body and smack her face as soon as she realizes she’s drowsy. It takes a toll.
So on the weekends, even though I desperately want her to nap in her crib, I relinquish control and hand her over to my husband. She falls asleep with the autumn leaves dangling over her head and the pavement under her daddy’s feet. Turns out, she loves running as much as he does. And it’s one less nap battle I have to fight.
Having a second kid means worrying less about how they sleep and just doing what works. I love it and I’m happier for letting go.
Have you seen the new baby panda at the San Diego Zoo? It was born July 29th and they’re not even sure of the gender yet because the mother won’t leave it for more than a couple of minutes a day. She spends all her time in the den snuggling it in her arms, keeping her razor-sharp claws safely away from her blind baby. Seeing as I am up at odd hours of the night, I’ve managed to catch some great screen shots on my phone. This is my favorite.
I know it’s silly, but I feel a kinship with this mother who has given up everything for the time being…who has mastered the art of living in the moment and who knows that all she has to do is be her baby’s environment. When I’m up nursing No2 late at night, I sometimes watch Bai Yun and feel a little less alone.
Clicking on the photo should take you to the Panda Cam live feed, but the San Diego Zoo iPhone app has the camera, too!
It’s been a hellish week, baby girl. I so regret being moody and responding to your cries with frustration. But you see? Waking every two or three hours to feed you at night is exhausting, & it triggers my OCD. I feel like I’m fumbling lately…like I’m not measuring up.
But I know. I know that’s the OCD talking, because you light up when I walk into a room. I must be doing something right, between your chubby leg rolls and all your new milestones this week. You are sitting up, rolling, and want to crawl so badly I expect you’ll do it any day now just from sheer will. You’re like a whole different baby. Maybe that’s part of why I feel a little lost these days.
We may be just surviving, my sweet girl. But through it all, I love you, am amazed by you, and live to see you smile.
Happy 1/2 year, Peanut.
1. Open crescent roll tube. Unroll flat and pinch together all seams.
2. Mix 1/2 cup brown sugar with 1 1/2 Tablespoons ground cinnamon. Spread onto dough and press flat with hands.
3. Roll up. Press dough together at the end to form a seam. Cut into disks with a serrated knife.
4. Bake at 375 for 9 minutes.
5. Eat all ten rolls for breakfast. Don’t look at the nutritional information on tube.
I make ALL kinds of things with crescent rolls. They are dairy-free, keep for a while in the fridge, and versatile. One of these days, I’ll share them in a post. For now, I need to get back to eating my breakfast.
I’m not sure who coined the phrase, and I do remember feeling challenged by No1 as she mastered running and climbing, talking and potty training (do I *really* have to potty train another child??? I barely survived round one). Challenged, but not driven to madness.
What no one tells you is that when toddlers turn three, a switch clicks and they develop free will. Or maybe they just recognize it for the useful tool that it is. Either way, that burgeoning independence makes for some heinous behavior. I’m talking screaming, explosive tantrums because a zipper is onlyhalfwayupandohmygoditmightfalldownfixitnow, and a loss of that “want to please you” innocence. It means arguing over how much water to drink before bedtime, every night. Even the smallest task is negotiated. The question “why” is not just reserved for the wonders of the world; now it is applied to every command and request made of your little psychopath. And you spend hours fixing hurt feelings instead of just bumps on the head.
It’s intense. And some days I feel like I’m failing.
And then No1 says, “hey, Mommy!” and makes me giggle with her sharp sense of humor mixed with a love of inappropriate noises. Her reasoning and debate skills blow me away. And I have to hide my pride when she writes her name in crayon on the windows while I’m busy with the baby, lest she think I’m impressed with window art instead of her beautiful letters. (Coolest milestone of this year, by the way.)
And suddenly I don’t feel like such a failure anymore. She’s a handful. But she’s absolutely amazing. Bright, devious, joyful, kind. We’re doing just fine.
Gone are the days of setting her down and knowing she’ll still be there when I return. With No1, I couldn’t wait for the day when she rolled over. This time, I want to push the baby back over and whisper in her ear, “Slow down, baby girl. Slow down.”
You are a miracle, my darling baby. I cannot imagine our family without you. Happy 5 Months.