Time to reflect...

One year ago today, I felt a bit disappointed that my contractions didn't start on their own. That I HAD to be induced.

But, one year ago today, I quickly got over it, because we were on our way to the hospital to get our baby.

Now here I am, another year older and not much wiser, because sleep deprivation has taken every extra ounce of wit from my brain, reflecting on the most surreal days of my life.

Here I am, the mother of a beautiful, silly baby, who fills my days with more laughter and tears and fun and not-fun than I could have imagined. She's a little person, transforming every day into a little girl, leaving the traces of baby-hood behind. Walking, eating, babbling, pointing, laughing, kissing...just a few of the amazing things she's learned to do, just 'cause. Just because she's human and growing, like all of us.

One year ago, to the hour? I was groaning, naked in a bathtub, being scolded by my seemingly teenage non-mom nurse for not relaxing enough between contractions. (She said, as she increased my pitocin drop and offered me pain meds.)

Tomorrow will be another surreal day, I'm sure. Full of work and business and busy-ness, as usual. But we'll definitely take time to reflect on those first few moments of Vi's life, which began at 5:41 am on July 31st, 2007. One Year Ago. When Dan and Lindsay became parents.

Quick update!

Vi is walking - a bit. A few steps at a time.

Vi has her first pair of shoes. Although she removes them within minutes, she eventually finds them and holds them up to me, with a frantic look in her eye and a loud request from her mouth to have them put back on.

She's pointing with intention, not just to see how her finger feels in that position. We've had to hide certain foods from her - teething biscuits, mostly - to keep her diet varied.

She's trying out new dance moves all the time. I'll try to get some video clips of it to post.

My sister Noelle was in New England over the weekend for our sister-in-law's baby shower. In addition to photo-journaling the party, she took several beautiful pictures of Vi. I'll post them when I can.

I had more to say, specific stories to post, but I can't seem to remember any of them. Plus, I'm at work, and should 'focus, pocus' as my new dear friend Adrianne would remind me.

Now hiring

It seems I did the right thing in firing our sitter. I wrote her a letter explaining why I had fired her, and asking her to clarify some "issues." She wrote back to me with, what appears to be some form of honesty. The basic elements of her letter were:
a) She's a smoker, but don't worry, she would never smoke around the baby. She's sorry she lied to me about that.

b) She also lied to me about her boyfriend having a seziure three weeks ago. She didn't show up one day, and when I finally got her on the phone, she sounded awful - stressed, tired, upset. She told me her boyfriend had a seizure, she'd been in the hospital all day, etc. I kept asking about him as the weeks went on - how's he doing, do they need anything, etc. She told me one time he had to go for more tests. Another time she told me they were putting him on some medication to "calm his nervous system." And so on. In this letter she came clean about the whole story. Seems he didn't have a random seziure - it was brought on by magic mushrooms. Seems he didn't go to the hospital at all. Seems she's a big, fat liar. Seems I would never trust her again.

c) She asked me for a raise.

In her "Please let me have my job back" letter, she asked me for a raise. Ha.

What's so sad to me is that she was GREAT with Vi. Vi truly liked her. I truly liked her. She's a smart girl - she's just being a stupid kid. And I never really understood stupid kids.

Must whine...

I had to fire my sitter today. She didn't show up. Hard to fire someone who is not present. I just keep saying, in between spritzes of cooling lavender mist, "I'm very upset about this. Very upset. I'm very upset abou this. VERY." So, if you call to console me, be prepared for a broken record. Because I'm very upset about this. Very upset. Very, very upset.

I'm feeling ungrateful and ashamed

Know how I ended my last post with "There's always someone who had a worse day, isn't there?"

Driving to the grocery store to buy Immodium for Dan and Pedialyte for Vi, I saw a blind man walk into a brick wall.

Now my "bad day" seems a bit....whiny.

What a day! (And not in a good way)

Poor Baby Vi has been sick all week. We thought she was getting a little fever on Sunday night due to teething, but it kept going up and up. She hasn't wanted to eat, she's had weird diapers (and we'll just leave it at that), and she's been pale, shy and anti-social. Even people who rarely see her said she must not be feeling well, just by the looks of her.

(By the way - I'm feeling a bit exhausted, which you'll understand by the end of this post, so I'm not going to worry about grammar so much. There will be paragraphs that just run on and on...oh, well. Read another blog if it bothers you.)

I decided today, when she wouldn't really let me take her temperature in her ear, to get her in to see the doctor. Her usual doctor is on vacation, so I accepted an appointment with the NP on staff. I tend to like Nurse Practicioners quite a bit, and this one turned out to be great. (Karen Weiss, UHC for Kids. Hurray, Karen!) What I didn't expect was a student to be shadowing her, which meant that Vi had to have everything done twice. I('m usually open to meeting with a student, but by the end of round two, I'm a little frustrated that I've had to repeat myself. Sometimes I get a bit paranoid, like the student DID tell the teacher everything, but the teacher is trying to catch me with an inconsistency. "Psycho-somatic! I'm giving you some Prozac!" I imagine them yelling at me. But that's just crazy old me...) In any case, the student was great, just a little hesitant with Vi, but very nice. They ruled out everything but a urinary tract infection, so we decided to get a urine sample! No, I didn't have to chase her around with a cup trying to catch pee. They have these little plastic bags that look just like vacuum bags - you know how vacuum bags have the hose-attachment hole, with the cardboard around it? It looked just like that, but with a u-shaped sponge around the hole, and weak, band-aid-like adhesive on the outside to stick onto her Va-jay-jay, as my Aunt Raylene would say. So, we stuck it on and waited for her to fill it. And waited. And waited.

She didn't "void" while at the doctor's office, so we came home, hoping she'd sleep a bit, as she'd been refusing a nap all day. She fell asleep on the way home, then woke up the second we walked through the door. Grammy was there, so Vi wanted to get up and be cute and giggle and act like she was well for a few moments, before collapsing into a sweaty, fussy mess. She finally peed around 12:30, then fell asleep for an hour or so. Grammy hung out with her while I took the sample to the lab, and ran an errand for work.

(Oh, yeah. Work! Right. I work for a living. I had, oh, seven or eight very important things to do today, some of which involve a marketing event I'm coordinating for Friday. Day-after-tomorrow Friday. Picking up collateral from two different printers. Dropping of freebie-logo items at the event site, introducing myself to the host and surveying the site, etc. Plus it's payroll tax week - quarterlies and monthlies due at the same time. Sales tax week - all due Tuesday. Year-end for two clients. And those are only the out-of-the-ordinary tasks for this week!)

I got to the lab with the sample, and no paperwork. I had to wait at the lab for the pediatrician to fax the labwork request, then rush to the event site to meet with the host.

Did you notice that I used the word rush? What do you think happened next? What could make this day even more awesome?

That's right. I got pulled over for speeding. I haven't been pulled over in 11 years!! Between my squeaky-clean driving record and the fact that noone dares screw with a Mama whose baby is sick, I got off with just a warning.

After all was done, errands and tasks delegated to my WONDERFUL CO-WORKERS Mark and Diana, Vi and I came home and I tried to get her down for a nap. Just as she was drifting off to sleep, Dan came through the front door and said "I got tired of so I came home." Sick baby. Sick husband.

I skipped a part about both print jobs getting screwed up, and the host of the event not even being available to meet with me.

It's 82 degrees Farenheit inside my house, my brain is melting, and needless to say it doesn't smell good in here.

So, how was YOUR day? If you thought it was a bad one, just think of me and feel a bit better. There's always someone who had a worse day, isn't there?

Learning to walk

Amusing quotes

I love quotes. (And witty bumper stickers.) On my iGoogle home page, I have a "Quotes of the Day" section. Here are today's, because they tickled me:


There's always somebody who is paid too much, and taxed too little - and it's always somebody else. - Cullen Hightower

Football is a mistake. It combines the two worst elements of American life. Violence and committee meetings. - George F. Will

The best car safety device is a rear-view mirror with a cop in it. - Dudley Moore

Harder than I ever imagined

I didn't know it would be this difficult.

I didn't know it would be this sudden.

I didn't know I could cry so hard.

I've stopped producing milk. Even typing those words makes my eyes well up with tears.

I'm one of those women who LOVED breastfeeding. I thought it was going to be difficult when we started weaning, that I would miss it, that she would fuss, that we would still have a before-bed or first-thing in the morning feeding that would last for several months beyond her first birthday. Knowing that Vi, like most babies, has her own unique developmental schedule, I wasn't sure if we'd start weaning around 12 months, earlier, or later.

We started much earlier, because she started biting me. When I asked my lactation consultant what to do when she started biting - several months ago, before The Teeth arrived - she said, "A baby who is nursing properly won't bite, because the tongue is in the way." In retrospect, I should have said, "Yeah, but what about when she's nursing improperly?" or, "Great, can I talk to another consultant now, please?" Because, I knew full-well, that babies bite when nursing!

So, I read up on it. One book said to scold the baby firmly - a loud, angry "No." One book said to gently remove the baby and say "That hurst Mama." One said to smother the baby - pull her closer to the breast - so that breathing is constricted, thus letting the baby realize, "Oh, I can't bite and breathe and nurse at the same time. I'd better let go." One said to cry. I tried all of these things, but that little baby would stop nursing, bite, and look at me out of the corner of her eyes to see what sort of reaction she would get. (As I write this I realize that maybe NO reaction at all would have worked for Vi. Hmm. Damn you, retrospect.) She would often laugh or smile at whatever I did.

I started pumping and giving her a bottle instead of nursing, which was really difficult - emotionally and logistically. Pumping is really time-consuming, and, while I don't believe in parenting by convenience, doubling the time it takes to feed was just out of the question for me. We started supplementing with formula. I was only breastfeeding in the wee hours of the morning, when she was half-awake and hungry (and not looking for the joy of biting). I was only pumping once a day. I figured if she could continue to have one or two full servings of breastmilk a day until she's 12 months old, that would be great for her immune system.

I looked in the feezer yesterday, and realized there was no more breastmilk in storage.

Then last night, I sat down to pump, and nothing came out. I pumped for forty minutes - nothing.

In the wee hours of the morning, I padded into the kitchen and mixed a bottle of formula, instead of bringing my sweet baby to my breast and providing her what only I could provide.

And I cried myself back to sleep.

Birthday Season!

We have been very fortunate to remain friends with several couples from our prenatal education classes with Birth Roots and Portland Yoga Studio. Two of the babies have recently celebrated their first birthday, so we have gotten lots of baby-pile fun-time. I walked into one party, and there was a baby I hadn't seen in six months, standing in the middle of the room with her mom's purse over her shoulder. I was already doing a double-take of how grown-up she looked when she started WALKING towards me.

The past year has gone by so fast, and here we are, throwing parties with cupcakes and Cheerios, and hoping our little ones get covered in frosting. (Yes, I said hoping they DO get covered. We're just that kind of people.)



Here's a picture of Vi, stunned with glee at the TOYS! BABIES! FUN! at this weekend's party: