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Tuesday, January 12, 2010

the story changes daily

THAT WAS THEN – bittersweet. more sweet than bitter.
January 7, 2010


It was inevitable. The tears would come.

So, I was feeling “ready” for a few hours without little B. A few errands ALL BY MYSELF (I sound like G) seemed like a really good idea. A couple hours away and a short stint for B to spend his first day at “school.” Start with baby steps, so to speak.

And then I was in the classroom giving detailed instructions to three women who probably know thousands more baby tricks than I do. I was lingering and hovering –finding it hard to walk out the door. Eventually, I did. Thanks to a lunch date with Sarah (at which we had a glass of wine. It helped).

Couple hours later, I returned to find B was fine. We both survived.

When I did this, nearly four years ago with G, I truly thought it was the end of the world. I thought I was already failing at the motherhood gig, because I didn’t consider it a viable option to totally change our lifestyle and find a way to make it work on one income. Possible? Sure. People do it all the time on far less. But right for our family? Not so much.

Still, I worried that daycare would not be good for G. He’d wind up with abandonment issues and he’d be confused about who his “primary caregiver” was…blah, blah, blah. Oh the trauma and the guilt. Drama mama! Truth is, G’s going to daycare had more negative impact on me than it ever had on him. I never would try to convince a first time mom of this. I couldn’t have believed it before. But, I think school has helped make G the social butterfly he is.

The child introduces people… is the life of a party… knows a lot of stuff I couldn’t teach him myself and is a super caring kiddo with a generous heart. He’d be all that anyway, but when it comes to how he interacts with others and his comfort level with himself – I think school has given him a lot we couldn’t have offered him at home.

So this time around, I know B will benefit in many ways. I know he knows I am the mama.( I know because he snuggles me different than anyone else and I do love that!) I know he’ll be entertained, rocked, fed, changed and talked to. And I know we’ll find a routine that works.

I am not misty with worry. I am misty because he’s going on 12 weeks old. These precious weeks have gone by too fast. And he’ll never be two days, two weeks or two months old again. The moments are so fleeting! And the photos don’t capture the smell or the emotions attached to these moments in time. I am already forgetting little details I want to remember. Like how huge his cheeks were when he was born, the hair on his hears, the size of his little hands and feet… I already can’t think of what else I want to list…

On one hand I am tired of anticipating the end of maternity leave. It’s weighing on me really. Just get here and get it over with already. On the other hand, I am clinging to every moment. Taking liberty to hold him through entire naps because I can… It will be a real luxury to find time to do that on a weekend when we’ve got birthday parties to go to, errands to run and life to get in order before we begin again on Monday. Besides, before long he’ll be too big to hold for an entire nap… before too long, he’ll look up at me and say, “I don’t need you to cuddle me tonight.” As G does now from time to time… (thank goodness he also says, “I want you to carry me.” )

I knew it would go by too quickly and I knew the list of things I really wanted to do was unrealistic from the start. I haven’t done the craft projects I had in mind, read the books I’d planned to, or even watched a bunch of good movies. Days have gone by quickly just keeping up with laundry, running to the store and preparing for and celebrating the holidays. We live in three hour increments between feedings, on no real nap schedule.

I was tired some days. At my wits end on occasion (especially during those few weeks of crying jags). I snapped off several heads (and apologized). But I also soaked it up. I noticed when I felt totally happy. And I did. Quite a lot of the time…

How often do you get to feel totally and completely happy? How often does the joy totally and completely override the worries and todos and todon’ts? For me, it’s not that often….I am more often glass half empty. A great devil’s advocate. Slightly pessimistic. And I am not a morning person. This is my nature. I am not unhappy. I just view the world with caution and I am slow to wake up.

But when he smiles, it’s total and complete happiness. The joy overrides EVERYTHING. It fills the air. In the morning, (early morning) when he’s stirring and ready for a change and bottle, I appear over him in the pack and play at the end of our bed and he smiles a huge gummy smile – a smile that wrinkles his nose and reaches all the way to his eyes. That’s a great way to start the day.

When there’s a baby around, the world just looks different. It’s harder to ignore all that is right.

******

THIS IS NOW - It’s not quite so sappy today… a little snotty, in fact.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010


What a difference a few days makes. Focus shifted.

So, G started with the fever on Saturday. Sunday appetite disappeared, fever remained and he threw up in his bed, the hall and then finally, the toilet. Monday morning, the doc said she didn’t think it was the flu. Until she tested anyway out of concern for Baby B and confirmed G has type A flu. “Could be swine flu,” she said, “we’re still seeing some of that in the community.”

It’s Tuesday and the fever only just let up tonight. High was above 103. Tamiflu seems to be kicking in and I have a filled scrip in the fridge ready in the event B shows any signs… Every spit up, sneeze or cough makes me feel like he’s a time bomb. Not to mention the fact that every little something I feel in my body has me thinking, “Oh Sh**! I’ve got it.” I wouldn’t be surprised, I have been sneezed on a few times. Lots o' snot r us. And despite cans of Lysol stationed at key points with sanitizer and Clorox wipes, it’s just hard to contain the germs.

Meanwhile Deeda continues to recover from his elbow surgery last Thursday and it seems we discover something else he can’t do each day. (Some way to spend your 37 birthday. Happy Bday Deeda. It's 12:15. The day is officially yours.) Having your right arm wrapped and immobilized requires help putting on pants that don’t have an elastic waistband, deodorant, serving food, putting on shoes, etc… Oh! and no driving! And he’s in this bandage until next Friday (at least). I get cabin fever for him just thinking about it. Meds seem to help with pain but that could also be because shortly after he takes them, he goes to sleep…

Thank heavens Nana is a real trooper and (once again) extended her trip. She has literally been here more than she’s been home in the last few months. I can’t be thankful enough. Her physical and moral support are a tremendous help. Ready at standby, too, is Grams who drove C to the doc today and will return tomorrow for appointment "part deaux." Strategically, I don’t want to expose her to our germs because we need her even more if I “go down” or Nana goes down. Seriously, you never know...

Maybe we’re over reacting a little but I feel like some strategy is important… It’s kinda funny and inconvenient right now, but it could get ugly fast if this flu starts making the rounds about the family.

So, none of this is what I had planned for this, the last week of maternity leave. This week was to be the start of some routine… B going to daycare. Me going to get a haircut and my teeth cleaned, maybe squeeze in a fun project and finalize Bday party prep for G (festivities are scheduled for Saturday morning a joint party with pal Brooks). Once again, I had visions of homemade cakes, aprons and pearls. Wrong! once again. Just not in the cards.

48 hour no fever school rule means, G could, maybe, go to school on Friday if he stays on the steady upward swing. Friday sounds VERY far away this Tuesday night. AND now that he’s feeling human again, it will only be harder to keep him quiet and in recovery mode. Meanwhile, I want to watch B with my own two eyes so I can administer tamiflu the second he does anything out of the ordinary. He is not going to school and getting used to it as we’d carefully planned. From what I read online we're not really in the clear until the weekend is behind us.

I have managed to regain some perspective since this morning when I felt sorry enough for everyone, including myself, to have a little cry and pick a fight with Deeda. It’s just bad timing. C’s surgery alone would have been enough… add flu to the mix and the emotion surrounding the big back to work day and we have a “tilt” situation. BUT I was able to keep the ball in play. Where are all these silver linings are coming from these days? Who am I? As I sat in G’s bedroom with him watching the portable DVD player… in our PJ’s at noonish, I did remember that I said wanted to sit around and watch movies ( I was thinking something other than Cars again, but it still is a cute show, even the 750th time). I do want all the time I can get at home with the kiddos. So, in some ways, maybe this ordeal has made me slow down and do some of that… So, I did it with a can of Lysol on my hand. Still counts.

Gotta laugh, really. Not much else you can do between baby feedings, sterilizations and wrapping C’s arm in saran so he can shower. I’ll finish by saying, I so know it could be worse. I recognize none of this is serious. And I know how fortunate I am to have the help I do… but still. Really?

p.s. no photos for these posts because I still haven’t sorted through the photos or made any uploads since thanksgiving… eventually. There are some good ones. I got a new lens for my birthday!