Separation Anxiety

I'm apologizing in advance the rambling and disorganization that will likely follow. I'm a bit emotional today. So first off, we are in the process of weaning Trouble. Why? Well mainly because now that he is a year old he technically does not need breastmilk anymore and there is a glimmer of hope or a prayer at least, that maybe once he stops nursing he will actually sleep at night. Reason number 2, Hubby is pushing it a little. I don't know why, but he is. So thus far we have cut back to morning, bedtime, and two middle of the night nursing sessions. No more bottles while I am at work, which means I don't have to pump anymore. You'd think I'd be shouting hooray for that, but I almost burst into tears on Friday during my last pumping session. I don't know why. I'm beginning to think that I'm having post-partum depression a year late. So today was my first day with Trouble where I had to go all day without nursing him. He has been fine the past 2 weeks while I'm at work without his bottles (according to Hubby and the nanny), and this morning he was fine too. But this afternoon, he wanted milk. It was tough to not nurse. He won't drink cow's milk. I'm really hoping it will grow on him because that would make it so much easier. So juice and water have to substitute and they aren't quite the same. Plus my boobs felt huge today. And it makes me sad that they are gradually going to produce less and less and then just become loose, ugly, useless balloons, until I have my next baby. To make matters worse, I don't see an end in sight. I honestly don't believe he is going to sleep better once he is completely weaned. I don't think I'll ever sleep again. He used to fall asleep on his own (and he still does for naps), but now he just wants to be rocked to sleep and Hubby can't ever get him to go back to sleep, so how is he ever going to learn not to nurse at night unless I just let him cry and cry and cry. I don't want to do that. I can't. I keep thinking: Treat others the way you want to be treated. I wouldn't want to cry myself to sleep. I wouldn't want to be calling for my mom and have her just never come until it was convenient for her (i.e. the morning). Letting him cry seems like the easy way out. I don't take the easy way out. I have to be the best and do everything the best, but I'm at a loss. Why won't he sleep? And now, the last time I do actually nurse him, which I imagine might be in less than a month, it'll be in the middle of the night. And I bet I'll have to just say, no. I'll have to just sit in my bedroom and say, :"No I am not going in there to nurse him." Yeah Hubby can go in to try and comfort him, but I bet it won't work. I bet he'll still cry and cry and yell "MAMA!" It makes me wonder if he's not ready to wean. But if not now then when? When I'm so exhausted that I can't function anymore? When he has to because there is another baby I have to nurse (who mind you will likely leave me just as exhausted)?

And now for my second point (or whatever number I'm on). Separation Anxiety. Yes, Trouble is likely dealing with this again since he won't fall asleep on his own anymore. But I'm the one who is really dealing with it. I think I've left him with a sitter maybe 3 times by choice since he's been born. Yes I work full time so I have to leave him for that, but that doesn't really count because I have to. And because I have to leave him so much for work I never want to leave him any other time. Hubby and I rarely get any alone time because I won't go. But what's the point? I have nurse Trouble before he goes to bed and then I have to get home in time before he wakes up again to nurse. It used to be that I didn't want a sitter to have to give him a bottle because then I'd have to pump, but now he's done with bottles, so I don't even have that option.

I just want him to sleep. To peacefully sleep. Without crying. Without waking (until morning of course). I want to feel like I can have a little freedom. I want the guilt to go away.

Un-Healthy : (

Its amazing how we can take our health for granted. Its also amazing how much scarier it is when your child gets sick than when anyone else in the universe gets sick. I have been completely unprepared how helpless I would feel when the health of my child was in question. Handsome is our high need child, and has been to the pediatrician more times than Sassy but its always been a minor issue and nothing to worry about. But this time we found a lump. Those are words that you never want to hear or say; nothing good can possibly come from them. I had to take my precious little man to the ER and for hours of testing and we still know nothing. Well, that's not entirely true, we know its not anything that will require emergency surgery. They've sent us home for the weekend and we will try for more answers next week. He's happy and doesn't seem to be in any pain, so that is good.

But I can not stop my mind from reeling with the possibilities of what could be wrong with him. I am overwhelmed with thoughts; I worry that he'll need more tests and procedures that will be painful (I'm not even thrilled with the idea of uncomfortable). I worry that those tests will result in a surgery, and I have about a million worries about surgery. I worry that there could be permanent damage done to him. I feel guilty because I can't fix it. I feel guilty because I wonder if something I did (or didn't do) while I was pregnant caused this to happen to him. I worry about the cost of all of this medical care. I worry we didn't find it in time. I hate all of the waiting.

And then on the other hand I am thankful that we have good insurance and are able to take him to the best pediatricians and hospitals. I am thankful that we found the lump. I am thankful that he's otherwise healthy and that Sassy is healthy. I'm thankful that this is the first time we've had to deal with anything like this. I am thankful that he didn't need emergency surgery. I am thankful that he isn't in any pain. And I am thankful for all of the friends and family we have to lean on during times like this; people that I tend to forget care so much for me and my little family.

With any luck this will just be a reminder from the universe of our mortality and a gentle nudge toward living a more full and gracious life.

Fingers crossed!
T

Parent Trap

I wish we could make a real life "Parent Trap." You know, like the movie. Except in this version I'd get to switch positions with one of the other mamas on this blog (except keep our own kiddos) and get to experience what it's like to be a stay-at-home-mom, while they experience what it's like to be a full-time working mom. I envy them so much. Yes I hear them complain about the neverending daily battles, etc., etc., but what they don't know is the pain and sadness that comes with leaving your baby day after day. Feeling like you aren't even really raising your child completely because the nanny is with them most of their waking hours. Feeling like you should have never bought a house because then you could have been a SAHM. Feeling like you work to pay for daycare. Feeling like you can never be completely great at anything anymore because you always pulled in ten million different directions. Yes, I have gotten much better about leaving Trouble so I can go to work. I think I blocked out the painful first three months when he was in daycare. Oh how I hate daycare. I am so thankful we have a nanny I trust and can afford. I thank God that he is able to run a muck in our own home and have the one-on-one attention he deserves. I am so thankful for that. And I am thankful that I have my job. It is the best job you can have if you do have to work (in my opinion anyway). In fact, it was my dream job. My dream position. My dream location. My dream. I always knew that's what I wanted to be when I grew up, but I also always knew that I wanted to be a mama. For some reason I never thought I would want to be a SAHM, even though I love kids more than anything. I used to think I'd get bored and fat because I would just eat all the time! But now that I am a mom, I would do anything to be a SAHM - at least until my kids were school age anyway. So, "Parent Trap" would be nice for a day - to put things into perspective. Maybe that way we'd all find a way to cherish the positions we are in.

One of those days.

This has been a very, very long day. But up until about 5 pm I was under the impression that it was just a very, um, shall we say interactive day. I've been reading about how to maximize my babies' brain growth to ensure they will be geniuses; and it more or less requires that they get a lot of attention. Lots of play, singing, reading, etc. So today I vowed anew to engage with my children as much as possible. After all, I am staying home with them for just this reason; I have dedicated these five, or so, years to raising them with all that I have to offer. Turns out this is very exhausting for the mom and very energizing for the children.

Egads! How could this be? Why are we all not pleasantly worn out and ready for bed at a reasonable, if not early time? I have spent 90% of my day building with legos, playing with toy cars, reading, singing, dancing, crawling around on the floor, being crawled over and climbed on. I am so tired I could collapse or cry; it is very possible that I will do both in the very near future. But Sassy and Handsome are wired like they've been mainlining espresso all day long. Sassy should have been in bed 59 minutes ago, but she keeps running out here like she's got wheels in her feet or something. She's super cheery and has a big smirk on her face, like this is the best game of all. Bedtime, yeah right! At one point I decided to give her a choice, bed or time out and she simply said "okay!" and ran to her time out stool. A few times since then she has run out of her room and straight to her time out stool. I would be fine just letting her sit there until she fell asleep, but Husband is a bit more by the book than I am and will continue to carry her back to bed until he has to leave for work tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, Handsome is uninterested in dinner and is instead happily playing with his cars on the floor. Most nights they both would be sound asleep by now!

Maybe this is really about Cinco de Mayo. Maybe they just want to party like everybody else. Whatever it is, I give up now. Husband can take it from here. I'm having a glass of wine, it is Cinco de Mayo after all.

Cheers,
Mama T

One Year Old.

My daughter is nearing her second birthday but it feels like we have known each other for so much longer than that.

I often think to myself, "WHY can't she put all her toys away? WHY is she sticking her finger in that sludge over there? WHY is she eating that dog food, knowing full well that it's awful because she just tried to eat it 10 minutes ago? WHY won't she listen to me when I say that I very much prefer for her to sit in a chair rather than on her breakfast plate? WHY?? She's fully capable of acting like a normal human being! Why is she acting like such a little kid.....oh."

Then I remember.

"She's ONE YEAR OLD!"

She does some talking and understands more words than she can say. She's extremely dexterous and clever. She's smart. Why do I always expect her to act as an older child? Perhaps she's just smart enough to know when to ignore me when fun is to be had or kibble is to be eaten. Perhaps it is because she's milestones beyond her fleshy-lump-of-an-infant brother. Perhaps because we overcome the same messy obstacles every day and she should have learned how to behave by now. Perhaps I should have learned to just deal with it by now. Relish in the silliness and have some patience Mama J.

One year old.