Baby Blues

I am 5 weeks post-partum and am having the "baby blues." Do not mistaken this for post-partum depression, because it is not. I am hormonal, I am exhausted and that makes me weepy. That's it. Even now, as I could cry at the drop of a hat, looking over at my sleeping Monkey brings a smile to my face.

I am blessed. I am happy. I really, truly, mean it.

But, you can be both those things and still be weepy. I haven't slept well in 5 weeks!!! Longer, if you count the uncomfortable, sleepless nights at the end of my pregnancy. When Monkey does sleep at night, he sleeps on my chest or right up next to me. Which means, I can't move. He will not sleep in his bassinet. Co-sleeping is the only way I'm getting ANY sleep, so I'll take the crappy sleep over none at all.

I'm also nursing, which means he's on me ALL THE TIME. It's a huge commitment and no one else can do it. Sure, a bottle of formula could do it, but I want to breast-feed for the few months that I'm home to do so.

I guess the 3 years since Bear was born has led to me to forget a lot. I feel like I'm in groundhog day. My life is changing diapers, feeding, crying (the baby) and laundry. Not to mention cooking, cleaning and taking care of Bear, too. Don't get me wrong, Hubby is hands-on, but I'm the one who is home. I'm the mom. I'm the one who LIKES to cook (when I have time) and who LIKES to take care of the house. What I don't like is being in the house all day. I don't like not having a schedule. Could I be any more anal?

This isn't a problem to be "fixed." This is just how I feel at this particular moment in time.

And, I CANNOT sleep when Monkey sleeps. I'm an adult. My body will not let me (no matter how tired it is) to conk out at 9 or 10 in the morning. I try to have a late afternoon rest, but that's the best I can do.

Maybe I'm trying to do too much. We've been doing ALL the things (outings, restaurants, etc.) we did before Monkey was born because we would all go crazy otherwise. Maybe I need to stop obsessing about the state of cleanliness of my house. I really wanted this newborn phase to be more than something I just survived or "got through." I want to cherish it. I have no idea if Monkey is my last child, so I don't want to take anything for granted.

In light of the above, I think I'm going to get my eyebrows waxed today. I need to put myself back on the list of people to take care of. Maybe if I didn't look like Grizzly Adams, I would have a brighter perspective. Yes, hair removal. Perhaps that's the answer...

The Poop Post (sorry)

I swore to myself that I would never blog about poop.

So, I'm not. In honor of my birthday today, I'm going to use the word "flowers" (AndreAnna's euphemism), because every girl should receive flowers (the nice kind, not poop) on her birthday. Also, I figure some of you are reading this over your morning coffee or while eating lunch and I don't want you to lose your appetite (aren't I considerate?).

Bear is 3 years and 2 months old. He is not fully potty-trained. I feel that, in this regard, I have screwed up royally as a mom. He is bright, if not advanced, in almost every other facet of development. That's why I know it's a control and/or a fear thing. He will pee in the potty all day long. But, when it comes to making flowers, he tells me, "it's too hard" and will not go. This has led to: (1) days without him flowering; and (2) him leaving me flowers in his underwear.

I have drawn a hard line. I refuse to put him back in diapers because I know that's what he wants. He is perfectly capable of flowering in the potty. He did it easily and proudly for 2 days straight and then reverted back to going in his underwear. Now, he won't even TRY to flower in the potty.

I believe I've tried it all. Praise, bribery, promises of great things to come. Nothing is worth it to him to flower in the potty. Please, oh please, tell me how your kid "got it" and flowered in the potty. And, if your little angel woke up one day at 2 years old and potty-trained him/herself, LIE TO ME. I'm sick of using the "flowers" setting on my washing machine (not to mention, totally grossed out).

For sticking it out with me through an entire post about flowers, I leave you with this...

Bear is soooo lucky he's cute.

One Little Monkey

For purposes of this blog, baby boy shall hereby be called, "Monkey."

He's only 3 weeks old, so there is no really no reason (i.e., he's NOT climbing the walls or swinging from anything -- yet), other than I needed to pick a name, it's an animal name like Bear's and, there's this...

Lots of monkeys all over his clothes/blankets!

Good enough reason for me (cut me some slack, I'm REALLY tired!).

Overdue

This post, that is -- not me.

If I still have any readers left (weeks without posting, I don't blame you all if you jumped ship), I'm going to give you the BEST reason for not posting.

He's here!!!!!

At 8:15 a.m. on his scheduled c-section date, my baby boy made his way into this world. And, in my humble opinion, he is perfection. But, I'll let you be the judge...

The c-section and my recovery have been seamless. Nursing has been going great (now that I'm passed the toe-curling, painful stage). I'm in a constant state of exhaustion, equally mixed with contentment and gratitude at how wonderful my life is with our new addition.

So far, Bear has been a model big brother. He calls the baby, "my baby" or "baby brother" at all times, almost never using his name. He's in seventh heaven when holding his baby and there hasn't been much backlash (yet).

All in all, things are going very well at the Mommy Esquire house. Hubby spent the last week home with me and the baby, which was phenomenal. I don't think we've spent this much time together (without Bear) since our honeymoon. I'm so glad he's had the time to bond with the baby before heading back to work tomorrow.

Like I said...perfection.

Red Tape

I have NO tolerance for anything these days. I am a hormonal tinderbox. I have no patience for anything or anyone. I am ONE WEEK from having this baby surgically removed from my body and it couldn't come soon enough!

So, imagine the joy, peace and serenity I am feeling at being told by my office's HR department that I will have to re-submit my disability papers for the THIRD time??!!! The first time was my fault, as I was off by one day on the form. Silly me, I didn't realize I had to include Labor Day since it is a paid day off. The second time was my doctor's office fault. I am SO excited to have to go tell the lovely ladies (read:sarcasm) in the "forms" department at the doctor's that I will need yet ANOTHER form filled out and submitted. So I don't lose 4 days of pay. Hey, every day counts.

That is all for now. Unicorns and sunshine to follow...

Getting My Money's Worth

I can't believe what I just spent on a Halloween costume for Bear. This is the first year he's old enough to choose for himself what he'd like to dress up as and he had a ball perusing the costume catalogues that we get in the mail. It's not that he chose the most expensive costume (Buzz Lightyear), or that Hubby promised him some of the accessories (the jet pack), I just can't believe how much this crap costs!

When I was a kid, I wore the SAME costume 3 years straight!!!! I wasn't given a choice about what I wanted to be. Know what that super-fabulous repeat-costume was? A princess. Know what it consisted of? A plastic mask (the kind kids aren't allowed to wear anymore because you can barely see out of the slits that were supposed to pass for eye holes) and a plastic cape. That was IT. I wore it over my own clothes. I don't even think princesses wear capes, right? And, it was no Disney princess, either. Year after year, my photo album shows me in this same damn costume, that probably cost about $5.00. And, know what? Year after year, I had a great time on Halloween.

In order to maximize the cost per use equation I've done in my head (just know that math was my WORST subject), I have determined that we will go to EVERY Halloween function we can find so Bear can use the costume. That means trick-or-treating, Boo in the Zoo, Spooktacular at a local amusement park, etc. Bear will likely spend an entire week in this costume. Wanna know the best part? I ordered it in a pretty large size.

So he can wear it again next year -- you know, if he so chooses.

Who Will Show Up?

I'm still here. I'm still pregnant.

I spent the last week getting ready for baby boy's arrival. That included getting the nursery ready (read: directing Hubby, as he did all the work), washing EVERYTHING (clothes and baby gear) and actually putting it all away and filling my drop-in freezer with meals.

As only a good friend would, AndreAnna came over last friday night to have a marathon cooking session with me. I won't even get into the awesomeness of all that she cooked (or how she doesn't measure OR use a timer for anything), or how she coveted my laptop (a mac) and I coveted her camera (a Canon DSLR), OR how she cleaned my entire kitchen before she left...it was something she said that stuck with me.

I was telling her that when Bear was born, Hubby and I had no help. I had lots of well-wishers show up to meet Bear. Most brought gifts, which was lovely. But, no one brought a meal (or ordered us take-out). No one offered to run a load of laundry or watch Bear so I could go get a 30 minute nap. No one asked if I needed the vacuum run or dishes washed. I'm not being a whiner, but I had a complicated delivery and couldn't really walk for a few weeks, or stand for long within the first month of Bear's birth. ANY help would've been greatly appreciated.

This time around, anyone who has offered to help, I have said YES. I know, in some ways, it's going to be a little harder since I'll have 2 children to take care of. See example above, where I took AndreAnna up on her offer to come over and help me cook. She noted that it was nice of people to offer.

"It's one thing to offer. You'll see who shows up."

Amen.

So far, I've had one show up -- I'm off to a good start. Thanks, AA.