Adventures in Sleeping

There is no photo for this post, for good reason. As much as I would love a picture of C asleep with his arms over his head, I could not risk waking him up with the flash. Maybe on a day when I am fully rested and can take the chance I will get a cute dozing shot, but for now you will just have to imagine it.

On Monday we took C for his 4 month appointment, and on our list of questions for the doctor was "should we stop swaddling C?" I don't know how long swaddling has been such a fad for parents, but I feel like it was all they talked about at parenting classes and in the books. So we swaddled. We even used the nifty "swaddle me" blanket that has Velcro (making C look like the cross between a burrito and a straight jacket. Due to the latter image, neither my dad or my mother-in-law seemed to get what it was we were "doing to him"). And when he got too large for the swaddle me, we upgraded to the "large."

And I would say in large part, C has been sleeping through the night since the beginning of November due to swaddling. When he was overtired, once he was wrapped up he calmed down. It kept him from scratching his head and waking himself up with his hands.

But as we expected, the doctor said now is a good time to do without the swaddle. This also happens to coincide as we are trying to get him to sleep in his own room, and possibly sleep train him (but that is a whole other story!)

So Tuesday night we go without the swaddle. There is a lot of rocking C, C falls asleep in our arms, we put him down, C wakes up. This goes on forever. We quickly realize tonight is not the night for trying a new room. Let's just focus on one thing at a time. At long last, he goes to sleep. We are exhausted.

Wednesday is worse. Wednesday actually feels pretty awful. It is the same, but worse. Every time we lay him down, it is the same thing: eyes shoot open, hands bat his face, he grabs his pacifier out and drops it, sometimes shakes his head back and forth. All he wants to do is be held. I feed him at 3:00 am, and look at Matt with the "I need to get up at 6:00 for work" face. He takes C into the other room. I later find out that C didn't fall back to sleep until 5:00 am. Nice.

Thursday I get one of my baby info emails. No joke, 2 of the topics for 4 month olds are "should you stop swaddling?" and "why do 4 month olds all of a sudden want to stay awake at night?" On one hand it is reassuring, it is not just us. On the other hand, it doesn't make it any easier.

Thursday night. I learn that C had a 1 hour nap at daycare, which is huge progress for him. He sleeps in my arms from 8-10. He eats at 10 and I try to put him to sleep in his co sleeper next to me. He is chill, but awake, and not letting go of my hand. Since he's chill, I think to myself, "I am just going to try it."

I put him in his room, in his crib. I turn on the mobile that Grandpa got him for Christmas (this amazing model has cute animals that turn around, plays music, and projects a little light show on what looks like an umbrella). C kinda stares at it. I leave.

Matt and I lay in our room waiting for the screams. There are none. He's fallen asleep!

He wakes up to eat at 2, and then same thing. Oh, I love this mobile!

Same routine at 5:00. And when he gets up for good at 8:00, he is his usual, happy morning self.

I know it won't be like this everyday, but last night in and of itself feels like a victory. Here's to a long weekend with minimal sleepless nights!

Thirty-something mindset vs. Mommy brain

Ever since we brought C home, I have sung to him. Broadway show tunes, holiday songs, songs that I make up about whatever I am doing at that moment. Pretty much constant noise. I didn't even sing this much as a Theater major in college. I'm not saying that the singing is good, but he does seem to like it.

So awhile back when a fellow mom told me about a CD of kids songs that incorporates the child's name, I thought that sounded like a great idea. I remembered seeing something like that in the window of a toy store in New Orleans. So on our trip out there last weekend, I bought one.

Now I am the first to admit that I was not expecting high quality vocals. And the corny image of a kid saying, "Wow! I heard my name 50 times!" on the cover wasn't necessarily a vote of confidence (considering there are only 9 songs all under 3 minutes each). While Matt was cooking dinner, I held C and put the music on.

The first song, "All About Me" covers about 1/3 of the 50 call outs for C. Imagine a somewhat awkward pause, and then a voice saying," Hey, C...". I was not a fan of the song "Raspberry Spray" which seems to teach kids about spitting, so that one gets skipped. The other songs about counting, the alphabet, rhymes, and manners all seem pretty straightforward and somewhat educational. (So far the only one that really gets into my head is "C has good manners, and that's what matters...")

Then comes the song "monkey counts to 20." All of the songs to this point have had a cheesy quality to them, but there is something about the melody that reminds me of a sketchy circus. It is about a monkey that loves to count to 20, and is friends with "C". The monkey's name is Jay-Z. I don't know if that is the spelling, but that is what the song says. I don't know why they picked that name, because it doesn't even rhyme with anything. Well, Matt and I just start cracking up. I laugh so hard that Matt asks if I need to put C down. He also asks me how much money I spent on this thing. But C does seem to like it. We make the obligatory Jay-Z jokes about the monkey "ruling the town tonight" (a song that I have on my Ipod). Matt had to pull up "Big Pimpin'" on Itunes.

And of course, we had to name his toy monkey Jay-Z, picutred above. Not to be confused with monkey puppet, who is still called "monkey".

$13 well spent.

Happy New Year

So on New Year's Eve day, I had my whole blog posting in mind. I was planning on just reminiscing about my New Year's Day last year, and how the little guy figured into the plans and made us so thankful for 2009. And I am still going to do that. But then life happened, and I had more to be thankful for.

On New Year's Eve 2008, Matt and I had plans to have a romantic dinner in Boston. Instead, we were snowed in at my dad's house. I was anxious to take a pregnancy test, but wanted to wait until I was in the privacy of my own home, so I wouldn't have to figure out how to hide the test afterwards, or hide my disappointment if the results were negative. So I had to wait until New Year's Day, and was thrilled to see that the test was positive. 2008 had been such a hard year, and Matt and I kept saying, "2009 will be a better year." And it has been, more than we could imagine.

On this New Year's eve, I was running errands on my lunch break, buying a dress for our weekend trip to New Orleans for Matt's mom's wedding, when I got a voicemail on my cell from Matt, telling me to call him as soon as I got the message. My heart dropped. I called and got his voicemail. I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk near Newbury Street in the snow and called again. All the while I am running scenarios in my head...Matt is calling, so he must be ok. There are no messages from any of my family members, so they must be ok. All I can think of is C, and how I didn't want to leave him and go to work this morning, and now, what if something is wrong? My chest was tightening and I could feel by breath get labored.

Luckily, everyone is ok. Matt was driving C to daycare, and had a minor fender bender. He did a fantastic job as dad and insisted that the police man have EMTs take a look at C, even though the fender bender was so minor that the police refused to write a report (I believe their exact words were, "it's snowing...if we wrote a report for every incident like this we would be writing reports all day"). He also kept his cool when the driver, a pizza delivery guy, kept on insisting that he should leave to deliver his pizza rather than exchange info, and then when his info was shared, it was not a driver's license, but an expired Brazilian ID (no, the policeman was not concerned about this either).

And we both kept our cool when we took C into our pediatrician's office just to double check him out. And we took a collective sign of relief when she said, "if he was my grandson, I would not be worried, he seems fine". And we both relaxed and felt so lucky when we got home and C was smiling and talking his head off, as if to say, "see, I am fine, let's have some fun"

Most of all I am thankful that the three of us have each other, and that we get through each day together...the eventful ones and the non eventful ones.

This picture has nothing to do with New Year's, but I really like it. C's friend is the daughter of one of our dear Chicago friends. I think she is at least a couple of weeks older, if not a month older. I know part of it is because he isn't in a car seat, but it cracks me up that he looks like such a big boy next to her!

Happy New Year everybody!

Going Out to Eat

There were many great things about C's first Christmas, but the focus of this post is going out to eat. My sister graciously babysat for C so that I could take Matt out for a belated birthday lunch. It occured to me that since becoming a parent, I have viewed going out to eat in two entirely different ways than before.

1. I make it count!
We chose the restaurant where we had our rehearsal dinner (we hadn't been there since). We got dressed up. When my brother noticed I was wearing jewelry that he gave me for Christmas and asked ," whoa, where are you going?" my response was, "we hardly go out, I need to make it count!" For those that have shared meals with me, this is very different. I used to be happy going to the same places all the time (i.e. Friendlys, Northsides in Chicago). Now I sometimes what to change things up a little!

2. I want something I can't make for myself any day of the week
In the same vein as going to the same places, I used to always order the same things because they are my go to favorites (turkey sandwiches, chicken parm). Until I realized that I make those things for myself at home. So for lunch this time? Wild mushroom ravioli. There is no way I am making myself fresh pasta in the near future! This is also the reason that Matt and I ordered Krispy Kreme bread pudding and a bacon brownie on our last trip to New Orleans. Where else are we going to eat that? When Matt and I were living in Chicago, we went through a long stretch of going to the same pub for dinner Friday nights. When I think about how many miniburger, fries, and beers I ordered without even thinking about it, it just makes me laugh. Not that I regret it...those days were great, and these days are great...just funny how life with C has made me a little more adventurous in my free time!

On the 4th day of Matt's trip, my true love gave to me...

I am happy to report that C and I survived Matt's 4-day business trip, which happened to coincide with my second week back at work. While it wasn't easy, and we missed Matt a ton, it felt good to get through it...and to know that most work weeks will never be that hard (hopefully!)

So in the spirit of the 12 days of Christmas, here are 12 parts to our 4 days without Matt:

12 bottles pumping
11 mph driving (darn Boston commute!)
10 minutes early (leaving work because of the darn commute!)
9 outfit changes
8 day care drop offs/pick ups
7 times giving drops (for a stuffy nose)
6 minutes crying (hates putting on winter clothes, see photo!)
5 minutes warming up the car (10 degrees. Really? Why this week?!?)
4 full days of day care
3 hours of sleep (before a "I have a cold so I would like to eat in the middle of the night" feeding)
2 pizza slices (shared with a good friend...what a way to get through the first night!)
1 accident report (Yes, on my very first pick up from day care I had to sign an accident report. Luckily it was just for a scratch that a 9 month old apparently left on C's forehead. I couldn't even see said scratch, so crisis averted.

Now the more fun countdown...3 more days til Matt's birthday and 4 days til our first Christmas with C!

First Week Back

So, we survived my first week back at work. Granted, it was a 4 day week, but it counts. My worst fear wasn't realized...C does seem to still remember and love me. While it is really hard to send him to day care at all, I think we picked the right place for him. And I like that he gets to spend "Boys Friday" and "Guys Monday" home with Dad. Matt takes great care of him, and we realize that not every dad gets the chance to spend this kind of time at home...so we are fortunate to take advantage of this now, before his career takes Matt's time away from C.

I did not cry at work, although I felt like there was a Megan cry watch last week. (I am absolutely not known for that, but I guess with so many new mom's here, they have come to expect it). I did use the "call us anytime" feature at day care on the day that this photo was taken. It was our first real snow flurry day...and it just didn't feel right to rush out and not spend more time with C. So, I called and got the update. What kind of update can you get for a 3 month old, you ask? It is about what you would expect. "He is having a great day. He ate at these times, slept at these times, and was changed at these times". Just a verbal update of what we have on a form at the end of the day. I am convinced that unless something is really wrong, that every report starts with, "your child had a great day." They are well attuned to the nerves and emotions of working parents (after all, they let you call in whenever you want!). Or I guess every day for a kid that little is when they get to eat and sleep.

Going back to work has made me really look forward to the weekend. Which on one hand is great. The only downside is that starting Saturday night, I started to get down about, "the weekend is almost over" So that will be a challenge.

This week I am on my own a lot...Matt is away 4 of the 5 work days. I feel like I am pulling all nighters, but very different from the college kind! I will update you next week on how I made out. My initial feeling right now is, why are movies like Baby Boom where the working mom is juggling a little baby around so popular? They aren't funny!

Nope, not yet...

So we took C on his first plane ride to meet his family in New Orleans...two uncles, his aunt, his 3 cousins, and to catch up with his Mimi, who he hadn't seen since October. There are lots of stories to tell...how he was a superstar on both flights, how everyone loved him, how he traveled so well and slept soundly in a new place. But unfortunately, I have a feeling that when he is a teenager, we will all still refer to this first trip as "the time C didn't poop for 4 days."

Yes, this post is about poop.

I promise there won't be many like this, but this is the story of the week.

For those of you who have kids, I am sure you are all to aware about how much of your life is centered about number 2. I could have driven myself nuts following all of the parenting books the first couple of weeks, tracking every feeding and every diaper. I did for awhile...and was glad when that over attentive phase seemed to disappear.

Some of our friends have commented that we seem to be comfortable, natural new parents. I take that as a huge compliment. But I am the first to admit that the one area where we are more nervous than most is tummy things. On C's very first night in the hospital, he was taken to Children's Hospital for testing to rule out tummy problems. It ended up being a false alarm, but nonetheless really scary. So with tummy things, we don't freak out, but we do take advantage of the nurse line.

So back to our trip.

Our first afternoon there, he seemed a little fussy. I mentioned to Matt, "hmmm, I don't think he had a dirty diaper all day." I said this in front of my sister-in-law. We then told my mother-in-law, since she noticed that our usually happy guy was a little fussy. Then when my dad made his nightly phone call and heard him crying in the background, I told him.

As a result, for the next 3 days, every phone call between us, and every morning we all greeted each other with, "nope, not yet." I got an all business email from my dad that simply said "I hope C is feeling better" only to be told that night that there was hidden meaning in that email, and did I get it? (Yes, I did). We got a text message from my sister in California.

We called the nurses line twice, and were reassured that this is pretty normal.

It then became the big question: Where are we going to be when this finally happens?" Our fears were the plane. We were blessed with such a great flight down, was the return going to be the opposite?

The big event happened when we were having dinner at a friends house. The couple, who are trying to get pregnant, are renovating there house. Besides their dining table, the only furniture was a light suede couch and a big white bed. And the floors were bare concrete. Yes, I was scoping my options.

C was sitting on the floor next to me, and Matt across from me. Halfway through dinner, I think I hear something. Matt and I make eye contact...did-you-hear-what-I-heard. I start to laugh, and then we really hear something. And despite my cold, I smell something. I start laughing uncontrollably and excuse myself and my little guy...who by that point was all smiles.

I didn't care how hospitable this baby-wanting couple was...I went to their tile bathroom and avoided their bedroom at all costs!

So that was our first trip. We are now on day 2 of daycare, and I am back at work. I am really glad that we took this trip before work, so we could enjoy some family time, no matter how gastrointenstinally challenged our time was! We are hanging in there with the work transition...taking it day by day. I admit that I took advantage of their call in policy just to hear someone say to me, "yes, C is doing well today". Matt put a surprise song on my Ipod, an upbeat version of a song that I sing to C. It was very sweet...and I was smart enough to NOT listen to it on the way to work, but saved it for the trip home.

Can't wait for the weekend.