Two Years Later

It's been two years since I've posted anything here about being a mom. It's funny that my last post was around the time my kiddo started coasting. Things sped up and haven't stopped since.

I am now the proud custodian of a running, talking, potty trained two-and-a-half-year-old. She is as lovely as ever, except when she has her practice three-year-old tantrums.

Life is good. My husband has been promoted a bit; same position, bigger store. The animals are still farting and shedding all over the place. I've taken up working out (WHAT?! I don't know me either) and spent the last year babysitting part time. It's been a good thing for me and our family.

Today I learned that my babysitting charges, who are family, are moving this summer. It is a bit of a heartbreak on a few levels. My daughter, Flora, has grown to love their girls so much. I've grown closer to the family and I've come to rely on the money I've been making. I will need to scramble to replace the income. I have a few months still but this fall is preschool (!!!) and my husband and I still don't feel it's time for me to go back full-time, so scheduling will be hard. But that's life and I'm so lucky to have my hardships be paying my gym membership and finding a good part-time job.

It's a beautiful spring that came late.

Catching Up Never

I haven't written lately because the sleeping has gotten so bad. SO bad. She learned to crawl and right away was pulling up so she could jump. She's such a wild thing. I love her so. With her jumping, coasting, babbling (Mamamamam, Dadadadada, Nana, baba, a new one every day) and all that newness,she has been up and bouncing off the walls. She has also rolled out of bed. We finally took it apart and we're on a mattress on the floor.

She is nine months old. Her eyes are a stunning hazel. Thick chocolate lashes. Soft chicken fuzz hair in a medium blond. She has my cheekbones and her Dad's round cheeks. She's a cherub.

Snobbery

I'm really trying to turn around some bad habits before my daughter starts to imitate me. Quite possibly my worst habit is a bad case of snobbery. I developed it as a defense mechanism early on. We were poor. I had a single mom and the uncoolest of everything.

Anyway, I was precocious from an early age. I knew I was different in a less desirable way. I developed exquisite taste to deflect my obvious shortcomings. In a child exquisite taste meant I thought Umbros were stupid. Why would I pay to wear advertising? Hypercolor shirts were dumb and my no name shoes were better than L.A. Gear high tops anyway.

Flash forward another couple decades and I still have a very discriminating eye. I like what I like and I like simple, quality items. I will buy tailored and well-made instead of cheap. I still hate logos.

I need to keep my personal tastes personal. I am too quick to give the stink eye or a little snort to things I find tacky and goofy. It's so childish and it's really terrible behavior. I'm embarrassed to think of what a jerk I've been in the past.

So, now I have the intention and I'm working on it. Your nursery decor, your new purse, and your art don't need to please me. They need to please you and I need to be happy that you're happy.

It's the first beautiful spring day

...and my whole house smells like vinegar and dog farts. My life is so luxurious.

Sick Mama

I am sick and handling it poorly. It hit me out of nowhere yesterday with fever, sore throat, and body aches. I bundled up, drank water like a boss, and ate raw garlic and OJ. My fever broke over night but I am nowhere near 100%.  On such a night, I can't help but be thankful for cosleeping and dream feeding. My sweet daughter is in the middle of teething and nurses through the night. I can't imagine getting up and visiting a crib every hour or, worse, letting her cry.

She was especially needy last night and woke up at 4:30 full of energy. Her father and I played a game I'll call eyes closed chicken. The first one to acknowledge her yelling and hair grabbing loses and has to deal with it. It's much different from her waking to eat - basically, she wants to play. Daddy earned big brownie points by taking her to the basement toys, playing with her for an hour, and then bringing her back ready to crash out. It's 7:45 a.m. as I type this and she is sleeping soundly beside me. Dad also fed the dogs and the cats, brewed coffee and brought me a cup.

We are living paycheck to paycheck right now. Our home is nice and many of our things are too. We were comfortable back when we had two incomes and no babies. This means that for now, we get no new anything. Clothes, haircuts, vacations, makeup, and nights out are a thing of the past for a while. I get jealous of my friends vacations and my sister-in-law's new car but I never wish I had made the choice to go back to work. Everything we have changed is worth it. Nothing feels better than drinking coffee with my husband in bed and watching our little flower baby sleep. Even with a wicked sore throat.

Five Pets

The whole time that I was pregnant, I was certain that I'd love my pets just as much as ever once the baby was born. I'd love both dogs and all three cats not quite as much as the baby but certainly nearly as much. I judged people who got rid of their pets after a baby. They were heartless assholes. Now that the baby is here, I understand the impulse. I believe pets are a lifetime commitment so I will never get rid of mine. I will continue to feed, shelter, and mindlessly pet them. At the same time, they are so annoying. My pet love was quickly replaced by frustration at their constant whining and unending needs. I once thought they were cute and clever when they demanded constant love and bathroom breaks. Now all I hear is loud dog nails on the hardwood floor as the baby drifts off to sleep. All I see is a film of cat fur covering our whole house and sticking to my daughter's sweet face. In the words of my usually quiet husband, "Maybe we shouldn't have tried to fill the hole in our heart with so many damn animals."

Baby Food

So, my flower baby quickly decided we would be using Baby Led Weaning (BLW). The term comes from Britain where the word wean has a slightly different meaning than here in the US. They use wean to mean the addition of table foods to supplement/replace breastmilk or formula whereas we usually us wean to mean the ending of breastfeeding.

It's the easiest concept  in the world. Give babies real food. Set it out and let them play, chew, smear, or swallow it. No purees and no spoon feeding.

I was wary but interested and had read about it during pregnancy. Babies will gag as they learn to chew and eat. It's scary to see and makes you wish you were using a jar of 'safe and easy' baby food.

I started feeding food at six months. I tried a bit of everything. She ate puree off a spoon for a couple days then stopped. She couldn't pick up the teeny tiny pieces I offered on her high chair tray. I thought I was stuck but I decided to do the scariest thing. I gave her big chunks of food, a whole spear of broccoli and a quarter of an apple. She was in heaven. She can hold it and control it and gnaw off whatever she wants. She is empowered at the table and I can already tell she's motivated to do things herself.

Tonight, at seven months and just one month into eating food, she ate eggs cooked with shredded carrot, corn tortilla, and avocado. Everything was cut into fingers or little nuggets. She will shove egg in as fast as she can grab it and eats almost a whole egg. It's amazing to see her pick up smaller and smaller bits. She'll have her pincher grip soon and be able to eat very  small pieces all alone. She will try more and more foods like red meat, diary, nuts, seafood.

The recommendation is changing on when to introduce allergic foods. They recommend earlier introduction and I was told to try things whenever I felt comfortable. I still won't be feeding her peanut butter anytime soon but it's neat to know I can try beef or blueberries or yogurt soon.

So all my plans of making her baby food are coming true but in a different way than I imagined. No airplane spoons at out house.