I’m a fool. Was offered the opportunity to go back to sleep somewhat peacefully and I squandered it. LB got up at 1:30, upset about something, nursed hir back to sleep. Ze was nestled peacefully against my arm so it seemed like the perfect time to put hir in the crib.
Ze protested, but it seemed like a token protest. I covered hir up with a light blanket so it wouldn’t feel like a shock going from my body heat to a cold crib and crawled back into bed. No sooner did I settle: *squawwwwwwwk*
I ignored it.
*squaaaaaakkkkk squaawwwwk*
Still not listening.
*SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEE* for ten minutes.
Ok ok ok geez.
Ze was unbelievably pleased to be grumpily bundled back up into bed with me, even after a half recumbent diaper change because who would appreciate their infant to stay STILL when being changed in the dark? No one, says LB, so to show my appreciation I shall writhe and wriggle as hard as I possibly can which is pretty hard since you feed me so well, and it’ll therefore be impossible to fasten that diaper with fewer than five hands and an elbow.
Ze didn’t try to play when we got back to bed, thank everything, but hir idea of “settling down” was a series of flopping from back to front to back to front to back, burying hir face in the comforter I’d piled at the foot of the bed to prevent another Great FaceFirst Launch Off the Bed, squeaking and doing a Baby Gregorian chant. If I didn’t know better, and I don’t, ze could have been summoning the Greater Gods of Baby-induced Sleep Deprivation. I’m tired.
After about an hour of this, LB was content to mostly stay still with one foot propped on my ribs, the other on my chin, hands reached up over hir head in an attempt to create a tiny human bridge between me and hir father, still doing that odd Gregorian chant / kitten yowl every 20 seconds in case I might fall asleep. Cute. But when ze was evicted from this womb I’m pretty sure there was a clause in there about not kicking me in the ribs anymore. Ze is in clear violation of hir parole.
Two hours later. I realize that ze has finally stopped emitting any sounds and movements have slowed to nearly a standstill. Oh blessed sleep.
***
Related: The baby food lie: blast from Nicole & Maggie’s archives still holds true. I vaguely remembered the information in this post if not the post itself and with full endorsement from our pediatrician (which was nice but not strictly necessary), proceeded with not very reckless abandon.
We are working on food and not food categories. Food goes into the mouth and is eventually swallowed. Not food includes: any part of Seamus. Confidential documents. Electronics. Remote controls. Any of my comic books. My toes – dear god why would you chew on my toes?? Head bands. Shoes. The dishwasher. Power cables. Furniture. Seamus’s leash. Seamus’s collar. Seamus’s toys. Seamus has made a bid that anything associated with him should be off limits to being eaten. I agree.
Things that still aren’t food but I can’t be bothered if ze chews on them: Legos. My arm. Tags. Bedding. Pillows. Blankets. The drying rack.
It’s a steep learning curve here.
***
Mimicry has suddenly started happening here. We always echo back at LB when ze vocalizes because it’s funny, ze has started echoing back at us when we do it to hir. Everything is just funnier when you’re an infant.
Actions, too. If we do a thing, ze tries to, sometimes. Right now ze is in an ET phone home phase: holding hir index finger out to touch PiC’s when he holds up his hand. Ze won’t do it with me, though. I guess it’s just a daddy-kiddo thing.
***
Word babbles are happening. Ze suddenly added about 5 more consonants to hir 2 vowels. Conversations are still not deep but they’re entertaining. Except when it’s “I’m putting your legs in your pants. KEEP THEM THERE” or “STOP worming away when I’m diapering you!” Then I vaguely wish for five months ago when ze could barely flip. But I guess that’s less language and more Infant With Shit To Do.
***
Ze thinks it’s funny to elicit a reaction out of us by licking inappropriate things. I just figured out ze was just playing me when ze leaned over to the wall, glanced at me, waited til I looked, then licked the wall. Then chuckled at my expression.
***
Teeth are starting to happen. Ze was remarkably pleasant when they started breaking through. Then two days later, it all went to hell. Ze was clingy, upset, every little thing was the end of the world. Dosed hir with Tylenol while we waited for the teething tablets to arrive and we were back to normal. Getting new teeth is a tough business.
Best part: ze is genuinely curious about this “teeth” thing and occasionally pries open PiC’s mouth to investigate what’s going on in there. That’s also just a daddy-kiddo thing, ze has no interest in my teeth. I think it’s for the best.
Things we love
LB most preferred to chew on my arms when hir gums were uncomfortable but when those teeth finally poked through, that was a no-go. A combination of frozen teething rings, hard teething toys, and teething tablets saved us all. The tablets were miraculous for those middle of the night wake ups when ze couldn’t stay asleep.
We introduced sippy cups a while ago, but while ze is willing to drink water, ze hasn’t quite got the hang of the whole thing.
Last we checked, I was dreading phone replacement. Dragged my feet, in fact, even though the phones were being outrageously non functional: turning off randomly, refusing to turn back on, “the camera is not connected” messages. Neither of us wanted phablets, which is where all the newer smartphones today are headed, and we definitely didn’t want the $1000+ bill that comes with two new phones. But it seemed like the best we could do was a certified used phone for about 20% less and any used electronics from an unknown seller always makes me nervous.
During our intense research period, PiC was gifted a new to him used phone, and that was a huge relief. I bought him a new case and charging cords, he did SIM card surgery, and he’s set! I deleted a bunch of apps and data from my phone and that’s helped a little bit so that I don’t have to rush out and replace it with something expensive. We were looking at the Samsung Galaxy 6 but it’s huge and so’s the price tag.
I made pantry dinner twice last week. A couple other nights saw us reheating leftovers, and then we had take out.
Our lives, post-baby, still revolve around dinner and what to have, and who’ll make it happen.
Things that have to happen before we can settle down and adult for the night: walk the dog(s), feed the dog(s), feed the Inchworm, play with the Inchworm, bathe the Inchworm, feed the Inchworm again, put the Inchworm to bed.
This is after a 12-14 hour day of working and Inchworm-related activities, so, at some point, it doesn’t really matter how we make dinner happen, just that it does happen. Sometimes I’m inspired and have enough short breaks to whip it up delightful oven miracles. Sometimes PiC gets home to an explosion of toys, an Angry Inchworm, épuisé wife, and that means he should magic something out of the pantry or the crisper.
We both work, and we both have to eat, and our schedules are topsy turvy most days. I’m pretty Type A and live by my calendar but these days I’m relaxed enough to count myself happy if we both get our work done in a reasonable time and we both get nourished.
Right in this instant, I’ve only ever been more tired a couple times in my life but I’ve never been this sure that this is the best life right now. I have my baby family, we’re both working and building our careers, and we both have to compromise to make it work.
I think it’s our healthy relationship barometer. When things aren’t going well, dinner is later and sketchier and more often eaten separately and standing up. When we’ve got our bits and pieces in the right bins, we have a bit of a warm potato pass off. I might have started a side or an entree cooking, leaving the finishing touches to PiC while I wrangle the kidlet, or I might have a one pot meal finishing up when he walks in the door so he gets to walk the kids. Other nights I have exactly two brain cells still keeping each other warm in the frosty cavern of a mind and he’ll arrive with a basket of Korean fried chicken to go with the cold rice I’d made lots of the day before.
Every day there’s a compromise. He takes the early morning shift (and weekends) so I can sleep. I sleep an extra hour or two so that I can take the all day shift. We split the evening duties because we’ve both worked long days and some things are easier with four hands and a knee.
In other words: symbiosis.
Frankly the only one who’s losing out on this equation at the moment is Seamus who is nursing hurt feelings over my pushing back my dining chair and accidentally running him over a little. I’m sorry!
Actually he’s having a bit of a rough time overall: he doesn’t get our undivided attention, LB likes him too much and therefore he comes in for a share of slobbery kiss attempts he’s not much into, and he’d like to play more. But all of these things would be, minus the slobber, wishful thinking even without LB because we have to be really careful of his skin.
It’s not doggy heaven but he gets fed enough and regularly, he has three beds and more warm places to rest his grizzled muzzle than he can use, he’s well loved, gets walks three times a day and sometimes we run into his fellow doggy the Titan and they have a mighty clash-romp.
Other compromises: I still do all our tax planning and financial stuff. I love it, and I’m a control freak. He does our auto maintenance: repairs, routine checks and gassing up. I do most of the laundry, he’s got the dishes and most of the sweeping and vacuuming. Travel planning: me. Grocery shopping: him. Electronics, purchasing and fixing: me. Clothing, picking out sporting goods, fun gear: him.
Nothing’s perfect, we have our little tiffs when one or the other is flat out of patience and exhausted but they’re rare. We’re getting better at saying: I’m so tired, can you do X for me please.
Like when he ran his first road race since LB came along. He does 99% of the morning duties. This time, he mentioned that he really needed a good sleep before he went out running, so at 5 am when ze was burbling away, I dragged myself up to take care of hir for a couple hours. He was immensely grateful and made sure I had some time to rest to make up for it later. We don’t keep score, per se, we’ve just been practicing listening a lot more.
Status: Flattened, with feet up. It’s the only way I can write, with the few still-functional fingers, when my hands, arms, shoulders, and back are racetracks for searing, electro-shock variety pain. After etching grooves deep in my bones, the pain creates a fatigue swamp, literally knocking me out for a few hours. By Day 5, staying conscious is an accomplishment. I spent Days 1 and 2 waking up from that haze wondering what the heck time it is and when I passed out.
Looks like I overdid it. Or maybe it was all due to fall apart right about now. I’m not sure. Navigating that balance between doing what you “can” but not taking on too much is like blindfolding yourself, spinning in circles, then trying to unlock the master lock of a door with ten identical knobs. With a toothpick. It’s a crapshoot. There are no reliable signals to follow.
Add to that, moderation was always a special sort of hell for me.
I want to do more. I know I shouldn’t actually do it but I always want to do more and usually telling me “you can’t” is like pitching a lit match into a hay bale and saying don’t burn. Before my pain became chronic, pushing myself was a treat.
When I walk a quarter of a mile, I want that next quarter. If I run a half, I want another half. That was how I worked up to my first mile under 8 minutes, was how I competed in my chosen sports, was how I fought my way up, professionally. I still remember learning about building stamina from my first great P.E. teacher. Youth was on my side back then too, but the regimen was sound. Performing exercise to failure (also known as: until you can no longer maintain perfect form) was the first of many steps to building strength and endurance.
I was never a quick study, though heaven help me, I’m some kind of stubborn. At first, the trade-off for pushing through, even if only by 15 or 20 minutes, was “only” days of crippling pain. Later on, crushing fatigue joined the party. An afternoon running errands cost two days of bed rest. A couple hours of exercise cost a week of mobility. Three weeks, once, when I was particularly boneheaded. If -no, when- I challenge myself, push myself just another eighth of a mile, just another five minutes, “just another” crashes down around my ears. It becomes a choice to sacrifice all other life activities like feeding myself or bathing. It should have been obvious, but it still took more than a decade before I accepted it.
Having accepted that fact, now, it’s a whole other struggle.
It’s battling my own instincts to get up and get out because to do otherwise is lazy except that to do so is to hamstring myself because I’m down to my last Energon Cube. It’s trying to parse the muddled and confusing signals correctly so that I don’t cross the line, but “stay active!” How do you tell when enough is enough if sometimes you’re feeling as close to fine as I get, don’t feel like you’re overexerting, but only crash the moment you stop moving? What do I go on, if I can’t trust how I feel?
To make things even more confusing, once every several months or so, for a couple hours it’s like the sun is shining on me. I have energy and only medium pain, the fatigue has backed off and I’m like unto a Tiny God of Getting Shit Done. For those brief magical hours, anything seems possible. That’s not today’s problem though.
As usual, I’m not the only one who’s had a rough few days. Abby has, as have a few other friends. I call a do-over on a crappy wasted weekend!
Lots of friends have kids in our area and it seems like they all participate in the Scouts.
I love the idea of certain things about the Scouts (the learning to do things, whether it be wildernessy or civilization related) but I never participated in the actual activity myself so I don’t have any fond memories of that experience. From afar, it seems like a bit of fun but also a lot of work. That said, I also have specific objections to the idea of Scouts for LB.
Time, money, energy: let’s be honest, in the Bay Area, we’ll be doing well to live in a place where ze can get a good education and eat well every day. 🙂 We likely won’t struggle like I have in the past, but unless something major changes, we are by no means going to have a ton of discretionary income for extras. And personally, selfishly, I’m a bit antisocial most of the time, I don’t want to have to be part of an activity that I have no personal interest in.
Discrimination: I know there’s a difference between the stances of the Boy Scouts (who discriminate against homosexuality) and the Girl Scouts (who maintain an anti-discrimination policy) so that may inform my decision later but for the purposes of this conversation LB could be male and I’m not ok with supporting an organization that supports any kind of discrimination for any reason. We may not be LGBT but I see very little difference between the reasons for discriminating against those who are as the reasons given for being sexist, racist or age-ist; I’ve had a cropful of justifications for racism and sexism and ultimately, discrimination and the rationale for it isn’t something I want LB to learn is an acceptable practice. It’s one thing to decide that something isn’t for you personally but a whole other thing to impose that expectation on others.
Desire: If LB is anything like me, ze would HATE having to do Scouts. If LB is more like PiC, ze would enjoy it. The only thing I know about LB right now is ze eats like a fiend and gets into everything I want hir not into.
Getting back to the point, there are things I’d love LB to learn in a Scout-like fashion (concrete steps, earning merit badges to commemorate the skills or accomplishment, etc.) and I’ve been pondering doing our own little Family Scouts.
Focusing on things that ze is not likely to learn in school, and not arranged in age-appropriate categories, PiC and I could reasonably impart the following skills to LB in the first ten to fourteen years. Most categories would probably have to be broken down into 1-3 smaller subcategories in order for LB to earn any merit badges before the age of 10, though 🙂
Financial Skills (of course!)
Balancing checkbooks. Not because I expect LB to be using a checkbook but the idea of debits and deposits are really easy to understand in checkbook format
Setting up bill payment, automated and one-time only, and when to do which one
Understanding and explaining the composition of a paycheck. Explain who/what SSI is and how that works
Navigate online banking
Personal Finance Management
Saving. Saving first, then spending from the remaining amount
Investing and compound interest: When and how to invest, and why
Needs vs. wants
Budgeting disposable income
Identifying fixed expenses and learning how to reduce them, and why
Basic tax implications
Health
Staying active regularly and enjoying it
Maintain a balanced diet with all the good stuff and the good for you stuff
Compassion – thinking of others, within reason, is good for both of you
Don’t run with scissors, aka, basic health and safety
Cleaning and bandaging wounds
Automotive
Routine: Check your fluids
Change a spark plug
Clean your brake pads
Change a tire
Jumpstart a dead battery
Change a dead battery
Drive a car (manual and auto)
Drive a truck (manual and auto)
Parallel park
Parking on a hill
Household maintenance
Keeping appliances clean, safely, and in good working order
Keeping furniture clean and organized
Sew a straight seam
Doing the laundry for humans, canines, athletes (a whole other level of stinky)
Kitchen Patrol
Handwash dishes without wasting water.
How to load a dishwasher
Kitchen Tetris: putting things away efficiently
How to clean and prep most common fruits, vegetables, and meats
Cooking basic meals
Baking a decent dessert
Make a decent cup of coffee and tea
Keeping the refrigerator sanitary
Rotate and eating the pantry
Animal Husbandry (dogs or cats)
Clean dirty ears
Trim toenails
Groom a coat
Bathe a pet
Check and brush a dog’s teeth
Check skin and bandage minor cuts and abrasions
Feeding a regular diet and picking up after them
Differentiating between normal behavior and indications of ill health
Outdoors-kid
Safely build a fire
Efficiently pack a backpack
How to use and set up any of the disaster gear in case of evacuation: flashlight, thermal sheet bivouacs, prepping emergency meals safely (choosing when to use flame versus flameless heaters in case of gas leaks), etc.
Travel
Pack for a short trip.
Pack for a long trip.
Reading a map
Using public transit
STEM
Creative problem-solving!
Libraries are great resources
Now we just have to make some cool badges!
::Did you do Scouts? I know I missed other important stuff, what would you add to the list?
::What would you think is an essential life skill?
As not the most helpful PF blogger ever, I took a most laissez-faire approach to saving on newborn and infant expenses. I set up Amazon Prime/Subscribe & Save orders for diapers after price comparing the Swaddlers we use to Target prices.
PiC won’t let me switch because he insists he needs the yellow/blue stripe and I’m not gonna argue with the guy who always says it’s his turn to get up with the baby tonight. We might save a hundred bucks or so over several months of diapers but that wouldn’t buy me sleep.
We happen to love the Amazon branded wipes and they’re the same cost as the best bulk price at 2¢/wipe. Fine. We save on having it shipped free so we’re not wasting time and gas.
Sticking to breast milk as much as possible.
LB eats like a fiend, anywhere between 20-30 ounces a day, and I can provide from 50-90% of that depending on the day’s yield. Formula costs nearly $1/oz so we can see that I’m saving us an average of $20/day. This is a lucky choice: not everyone can breastfeed and I choose to because I can.
We did buy a handful of bottle brushes at $2.50/each. It’s necessary to keep the bottles and nipples clean and sterile.
Almost everything else is optional or preloved.
We have some baby soap and ze is bathed about twice a week to fend off that old shoe funk.
Almost all hir clothes, towels, cloths, gear and toys are hand me downs. Ze has a lovely pile of books to look at (and try to eat) and a couple sets of blocks to play with when ze gets older.
Of four hand me down baby carriers, we picked out the two that fit us each best and didn’t splurge on the lovely $200 wrap sling thing that I yearned for.
We don’t do baby swings but we have a reclining chair that was handed down. The wipes warmer was a luxury concession on baby real estate and also a hand me down. We don’t use it anymore since ze has gotten old enough not to have five changes in the middle of the night.
Everyone kept insisting the Diaper Genie was a Must Have. We just used the plastic bags that the diapers came in, still smelling faintly fresh, as a trash bag and take it out daily. One benefit of living where we are, the dumpster is easily accessible and doesn’t stink up the place.
We’re staying within our allotted cash flow pretty well, only dipping dangerously low in the checking account once or twice when I pulled a large sum out for retirement contributions.
We’re in between childcare helpers, still, so these days my schedule is a really weird non-routine routine. It’s not terrible, but it’s a really incredibly full day. I still log at least 8 hours of work, not continuously, but thank goodness my work allows this kind of flexibility.
If we’re really lucky, LB actually stays asleep after we put hir down at least til 8 hours later. Someday, I dream of this someday, maybe ze will even sleep 10 or 12 hours. In the meantime, every weekday is looking something like this:
Between 4-4:30am: get up, change diaper, feed, PiC gets up and tries to get hir back down to sleep, while I collapse in bed. Between 7-7:30am: If I’m lucky, ze did got to sleep and is still sleeping which means I have time to brush my teeth and get to work. If not, ze probably got me up again and PiC is too beat so it’s my turn to play with hir for a couple hours til the next nap because ze is up for good. Between 8-9am: Zip through some work before PiC leaves for the day. PiC makes me breakfast, I absentmindedly scarf that down with one hand, the other hand still working. LB lands in my lap to “help” for a while. If ze’s cooperative, ze will play with toys. If less so, ze will attempt to take over typing. 10-12pm: Try to get LB down for a nap. Wash dishes, wash bottles. Work like the wind while ze is sleeping.
If I get a 3rd hour of nap, I can do some household stuff: Pay bills, update tax filing info for 2014, get the laundry going, put food in the crockpot, follow up on weird things with billers. 1-3:30pm: feeding/diapering, play with a very awake Wiggle Worm. Read books, dangle toys. Take hir and Seamus out for a walk. Let hir “crawl” on the floor while I catch any easy to answer emails. 3:30-4pm: feeding, convince The Angry Inchworm to take another nap if ze is tired. Sometimes it’s a 30-45 minute third nap, sometimes this is the second nap of the day and lasts an hour or two. Seamus will start angling for his medications because after he takes them, he gets dinner. Whip through any dishes, knock out some more work. Between 5:30-6:30 pm: LB will be up and at it again so I’m all hirs. Feeding, diapering, and playing again. Feed Seamus. PiC gets home at some point and takes over for an hour of daddy+baby time. Sometimes they go out for a walk with Seamus. 7 pm: I start gathering a change of clothes and we’re blasting some tunes for hir bath. We’ve got this down to a science, now. Ze was terrified by the big bathtub but with music, toys, and a super efficient routine, ze’s cool with it now. 7:30-8 pm: If we’re in good odor with the baby gods, ze is finishing up the bedtime bottle and nodding off. If not, ze demands another bottle and is wide awake. 9 pm: Adult people dinner. Talk through anything we need to discuss, if we still have brainpower. Sometimes PiC can get in a workout before dinner. Sometimes we BOTH get to take showers. Sometimes I’m still catching up on work. Other times, I’m trying to arrange travel or figure out what’s up with our commitments. 11 pm: Remember that thing called sleep and stumble to bed wondering why the hell we didn’t do this earlier.
