Damn You, Rubik's Cube!

Having a new baby is like working on a Rubik's Cube every day. As soon as you have the yellow side figured out and then solve the blue, you realize that, in doing so, you've just fucked up the yellow side, and in trying to fix that, you fuck up the blue again! Soon you find yourself in frustrating spiral of do-overs, second guessing every move you make, and seriously contemplating peeling off every single goddamn sticker and reorganizing it by color to make everyone think you are so fucking brilliant and put-together that they hate your guts. Perfection. That's what we want. We want our children to be perfect and we want to be perfect parents. There's no shame in that. Of course I want the best for my child. But this week, I learned something that I think all new moms should know: Best does not always equal perfection.

By the time our baby turned 3 months, life started to get a whole lot easier.  Baby girl was a pro at latching to breastfeed, we had established a daytime routine complete with somewhat regular nap times, a nighttime routine with bedtime stories, and best of a all, baby girl was sleeping through the night! We had 4 out of 6 sides of the Rubik's Cube complete! We were fucking rockstar parents! Life was good... for about 2 weeks. Then we hit the trifecta of  turds hitting the fan: growth spurt, teething,  and... what was the third thing? Shit. I can't remember. Hello, sleep deprivation. It's nice to see you again. NOT!

One of my biggest concerns was that this little peanut decided to go back to cluster feeding during the day again.  I brought this up at the Breastfeeding Support group and Counselor Grabby basically told me it was my fault. She said that in letting my baby sleep through the night, I was allowing my milk supply to diminish. Her advice was to wake my baby up at night to feed her and save my milk supply! Excuse me? We have a good thing going and you want me to wake her up? Hell no! I tuned her out after that advice. After that she sounded like Charlie Brown's mom. Wha wha wha wha....  It didn't matter anyway because soon after that, she started waking up 2-3 times during the night on her own. Ugh.

Another issue we are now facing is teething. I think this is why she is waking up at night. It's not crying that I wake up to through the monitor, but rather a sort of primal grunting noise that you would not expect to come from the body of such a tiny baby. After waking up in a panic, expecting to see a gorilla peering over my baby's crib on the monitor, I realized it was just her trying to suck on her thumb. Actually, she was trying to get her whole entire fist in her mouth.  Someone once told me that when a tooth is making its way through a baby's gums, it comes in like a cork screw! I have no idea if that's true or not, but that image was enough for me to leap out of bed and run to my baby's rescue as fast as I could. The only thing that seems to calm her down is to breastfeed her until she falls back asleep.  Now she can't fall asleep for naps or bedtime unless I breastfeed her to sleep. So this begs the question: have I created a bad habit?  (Hubby, did I use that phrase correctly?).

Like I said earlier, I want the best for my child. I want to be a perfect mom for her. I want to teach her how to grow up to be a strong, independent woman, the way my mom taught me. I want her to be a good problem solver and have the courage and self esteem to try things on her own before asking for help. Some people would argue that you should teach your child independence by allowing them to fall asleep on their own and let them cry it out. But is it too early to teach her those lessons?

After talking to other moms, especially the one mom that I look up to the most, my sister, I came to an answer to that question. Yes. Yes it is too early to teach those lessons. I get so wrapped up in worrying about her future, I tend to lose sight of what's right in front of me. She's just a baby and she needs me. It's ok that she falls asleep on my breast, and needs a little extra comfort in the middle of the night. It's ok that I pick her up every time she cries, and sometimes before she cries, just when she gets that little boo-boo lip going. It's ok that I kiss her cheeks several times before laying her in her crib at night, and sneak into her room for one more smooch before I hit the sack. It doesn't seem like it right now, but I am teaching her something that I never want her to forget. I am teaching her that Mommy will always be here for her, day or night, whenever she needs me. Hopefully, she will grow up knowing that she will always have the support of Mommy and Daddy, and with that she will be able conquer anything her little heart desires!

It's certainly not ideal to wake up at midnight, 2 am, 4 am, and 6 am, or to suffer the pains of cluster feeding a teething baby, but it's my life right now and it's perfect. We'll figure out this side of the cube together, and when we do, baby girl will probably scramble up all the colors again and we'll be right back where we started, in Rubik's Cube hell. And that's ok.  Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to nurse my little bean to sleep for her nap and hold her a little longer before laying her in her crib. No, scratch that, I'm going to put my chores aside for a while and let her nap on my chest on the couch. Now that's a perfect afternoon!

Breast Friends Forever

My friend and I decided to attend a breastfeeding support group at the hospital where we both delivered our babies. Our little peanuts have been doing well with breastfeeding, but like many other new moms, we still had 1,001 questions. I figured, why not? Even if I don't get answers to my boob related inquiries, at least we can make friends with some other new moms in the area. And if we fail to do that, at least I can get some good blog material.

And that I did.

We had no idea what to expect. We walk in and who do we see? Our favorite Boob Camp Counselor. You know, the real handsy one. "Hey!" I said to her, as if she would remember me from 3 months ago. Of course she had no idea who I was. I don't know, I just thought that since she and I went right to second base when we first met, she would at least recognize my face! Huh!

The room was already a bit crowded with babies and moms, sitting barefoot in a circle, on a blanket, on the floor. A breastfeeding picnic, if you will. Except the only ones allowed to eat are the babies.  We found a spot on the floor and joined the lovely kumbaya circle of boobs.

We chatted with a few moms and kept glancing at Counselor Grabby, wondering when she was going to facilitate this meeting. 10 minutes went by... 15... 20 minutes. She just stood over in the corner! Meanwhile all the moms, who we soon found out all knew each other from prenatal yoga classes and have been attending this group on a regular basis, kept chatting and breastfeeding. No udder covers, no blankets, just a whole lot of boobage! And there we were, my friend and I, with our trendy little nursing covers at our sides. Without saying a word, we knew exactly what the other was thinking:

Are you going to use your cover?

I don't know. Are you?

I'll do whatever you do. We're in this together.

Well, soon enough, our babies started to fuss and were ready to join the feeding frenzy.  We looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders. When in Rome...  If we weren't close friends before, we certainly are now!

We soon realized that this was not going to be a raise-your-hand, Q&A type of class. It was literally just a place where moms can breastfeed together. It was a bit awkward at first, I'll admit, but I did learn some fascinating things about breastfeeding from the other moms. I even got a few tips from Booby McGrabbyhands, once she decided to leave her corner and converse with us mommies. One mom, in particular, totally blew my fucking mind with a bit of info that she shared. We got on the subject of pumping and building a good milk supply for daycare and she said "I can usually pump about 14 ounces a few times a day. Then I divide it into smaller portions and freeze some."

"I'm sorry," I interrupted. "did you say 14 ounces?  Like 1-4?"

"Yeah." She replied. "I can get anywhere between 14-16 ounces on each side every time I pump."

"What!?" I said in disbelief. "On each side?!"  I hope she wasn't offended by the you-are-a-freak-of-nature look I had on my face. "Do you mean milliliters?"

"No. Ounces."

Holy shit! I can maybe pump 3 or 4 ounces on each side. And that's on a good day! How the hell does she do that? I couldn't help but picture her pumping into a freaking Nalgene bottle, and then attaching an enormous, custom-made nipple to feed it to her giant baby (her baby was not giant at all. He was perfectly average sized).  I was so amazed by her ability to supply enough milk for an entire village, I had to tell my hubby when I got home. "Was her name Bessy?" he asked, laughing. "Is she a blue ribbon contender at the state fair?"

We had a good laugh, but honestly, I was kind of jealous! It would be so nice to be able to pump enough milk every day and have enough bottles to be comfortable leaving my baby with someone for longer than an hour. She can go on vacation for a whole week and be able to leave more than enough breastmilk for her baby! Incredible!

Soon the two hours were up and moms started to pack up their babies and leave, but not before we heard some whispers:
Mom #1: "Are you going to the..."

Mom#2: "Oh, yes. We'll be there."

Mom #3: "I'll meet you guys there in a bit.  How about you? Are you going to... the thing?"

Mom #4: "Of course! I'll see you there!"

What? What thing? Where is everyone going? Clearly we were the "newbies," not yet initiated into this secret sorority. How do we pledge? When can we become Kappa Kappa Ta-Tas? I want in!

Grocery Shopping... Ugh.

I have been spoiled for several years now with a husband who loves to cook. And he's pretty damn good at it! And because he is the Foodie in the house, he usually does the grocery shopping too! What a catch, right? I know, I totally hit the jackpot! It's not that I'm lazy, I'm just not a good cook. I have a few specialties that my husband will request every once in a while, but it's really best for everyone if I just stay out of the kitchen. I'll help do the grocery shopping every once in a while too, but half the time I come home with the wrong type of olive oil, or forget the fennel because I have no idea what the fuck that is or where to find it. Plus, I haaaaate it. I don't have enough patience to wait for my number to be called at the Deli line, and I have zero will power when I get to the snack aisle. But now that I'm a temporary stay-at-home mom, I figured I need to up my game a bit in the kitchen so we can have good quality family time when Hubby comes home from work. (By "upping my game," I mean learn a few easy crock pot recipes. I know my limitations).

To do that, I was going to have to conquer my fear and take the little peanut grocery shopping. So that's what I did this morning. The grocery store is right down the road and my list was pretty short, so I figured what the heck, let's do this! I got a parking spot right next to the shopping carts. Score! Then came my first obstacle: where does the baby go? She's too small to sit in the seat in the cart, and I needed to buy too many things to pile on top of the stroller, so I just put her car seat right in the basket of the cart, facing me. That's what you're supposed to do, right? Baby girl gave me a look as if to say "why are you putting me in this cage? What have I ever done to you besides the 23 hour labor, 3 1/2 hours of pushing, hemorrhoids, stitches, stretch marks... Ok, maybe I deserve to be in this cage for a few minutes." She must have felt pretty guilty, because she was quiet and content the whole time. I, on the other hand, was faced with another dilemma: where do the groceries go? The car seat takes up the whole damn cart! I was able to put some stuff in the front seat area of the cart, shoved a box of cereal and a few boxes of granola bars down in front of the car seat, 2 quarts of milk in the undercarriage, and I let the baby hold onto a pack of sponges and soap. What?! She owes me one!

We made it through the checkout, no problem. I feel kind of stupid for even writing about it. I know moms and dads do this all the time, and they are probably laughing at me right now for being such a spaz about it.  But this time my list was short and it was easy. What do people do when they need a week's worth of groceries? Seriously, I want to know! I'm a pretty good multi-tasker, but there is no way I can push a stroller AND a shopping cart! Especially not mid-week, in the middle of the day, when all the senior citizens do their shopping in their Hoverounds with a total disregard for common sense traffic rules! How do parents of multiples do it? How do single parents do it? Good God, how do single parents WITH multiples do it??? It will be easier when she is old enough to sit in the cart, but what am I supposed to do until then? Balance a gallon of OJ on my head and stuff the lunch meat in my bra?

Show off!

Is this another one of those secrets experienced moms don't want to share? Come on! Help a sista out!

A Reading Rainbow... Of Sorts

For my baby shower, guests were asked to give a book in lieu of a card. I loved this idea because I couldn't wait to start building a library for our daughter. My husband and I decided it's never too early to start reading to her, so we've been reading bedtime stories every night since the day we brought her home from the hospital. I know what you're thinking, what's the point? It's like reading to the dog. Newborns don't even have fully developed eyesight, let alone the ability to comprehend the exciting plot twists of Frog and Toad. I know she has no idea what's going on and has zero comprehension of the stories we read, but it creates a routine for her (and us), and it sets aside some special time for us to spend together.

We got some fantastic books, old and new, and let me tell you, they are all just as fun to read to each other (Mommy and Daddy) as they were to read to my students when I taught Preschool. Besides all of the educational benefits of reading to your child at an early age, it's also really fun to over analyze the simplicity of children's books now while she doesn't understand what the hell we're saying! It's like Mystery Science Theater every night in my house, but with children's books. You should try it!  I hope no one takes offense if I happen to mention a book that you gifted to us. I'm not criticizing them, just having a little fun here.

Five Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed: my husband thinks it's hilarious, and a bit disturbing, that every single time one of the monkeys falls out of bed and hits their head hard enough for Momma to have to call the doctor, she puts the injured monkey back to sleep! Hello? NEVER LET SOMEONE WITH A HEAD INJURY GO TO SLEEP!! They could have a concussion! And what the fuck kind of doctor responds to a head injury with "This is the 5th child from the same house in the SAME NIGHT with a head injury? How about trying no more jumping on the bed? Let's see if that works." Uh, it didn't work the first four times, maybe now you should call CPS on this woman. Not only do all of her children have possible head trauma, but all five of them have to share a bed! That's just sad.

The Cat in the Hat: Don't even get me started on how this book teaches kids to let a total stranger in the house to play and completely trash the place while mom's not home. Wait. Mom's not home? Yup, that's right. Mom left the two young children at home alone while she went grocery shopping. Oh but don't worry, the goldfish is babysitting!

I actually do love both of those books and I can't wait to read them to our little one when she is a little more self-aware. There is absolutely nothing wrong with them. As a teacher with a masters in Literacy, I can tell you that they are engaging, fun, and introduce concepts like rhyming, repetition and alliteration, and they've withstood the test of time. So thank you to the people who gave them to us!

Then we came across this book:

This treasure was from my husband's childhood collection of books. As tattered and worn out as it is, I'm surprised it even exists. I mean, why has this book not been burned in a fire along with all the bras during the women's lib movement of the 1960's, or had the pages torn out and used to roll joints during the environmental movement of the 70's? I should explain. Let me make something very clear: what you are about to read is not sarcasm. This is actually a synopsis of the book.

Stan is about to embark on his first day on the job as a Garbage Man. During his route, he decides it's such a waste to just throw gently used household items into the "chewer-upper," so instead he ties everything to the top of the truck and gives them way to the people in town. Everyone is so excited to make other people's trash their treasure. Great idea, right? Reduce, Re-use, Recycle! Yay!

Not so fast.

When everything is gone, and I quote: "...fathers went to work and mothers went back to the dishes."

Mmmhmm. Yup. That's right, Mom. Go back to the kitchen where you belong and make me a pie!

But wait, there's more! Stan's boss is a little disappointed with this novel idea of recycling. He was supposed to put everything in the "chewer upper" so that the trash and ashes can be carried away on a tugboat and, I quote again: "used to fill in swampland. Then parks and playgrounds would be built there."  What a shame! Now, because stupid Stan had to go and reduce the amount of trash collected in the town, the poor children won't have a dirty swamp yard to play in! WHEN WILL SOMEONE THINK OF THE CHILDREN?!

But don't get too worried. Every good book has a happy ending. [SPOILER ALERT!!!!!] The people of the town decide, the very next day, that their new treasures were pieces of shit after all and put everything back on the street for garbage pick up. Stan was sad at first, but then he realized something:
"All this stuff will fill in lots and lots of swamps!"

If you were as captivated by this author's poignant writing as I was, then you'll want to check out his other work (I'm going out on a limb here to assume that Gene is a guy):

The review for No Roses for Harry especially caught my attention.  Dear Garbage Man already proved that logic + ludicrousness = gales of laughter, I can't wait to see what kind of gender stereotyping and environmental activism Harry has in store for us!

Here's another timeless classic from the 1950's, salvaged (thank god!) from my husband's childhood collection:

[I should take a moment here to point out that my husband is not actually in his 70's, although if you look at his taste in alcohol, you might think so. He's only 32, and he drinks Manhattans and single malt Scotch. But I digress...]

I Want to be a Fireman: I'll be brief with this one.  Bill and Jane stop by the fire house on their way home from school, when the fire alarm goes off. Curious about what firemen actually do (you can see how interested Jane is in this illustration), they stick around to watch them in action.

They count the firemen and identify the different trucks and equipment. Even Jane, a girl, identifies the pump engine! Way to go, Jane! Then, here comes Dad to drive them right to the deadly inferno so they can get a front row seat at the action. Right then and there, Bill decides that's what he wants to be when he grows up. And what about Jane, you ask? Will she become a trailblazer for other intelligent little girls like herself in the future, and become the first female firefighter?

No, she will not.

Bring Back Reading Rainbow... PLEASE!!