Vegetables and Cake

Paolo has been doing pretty well with all of the foods we’ve been trying with him since we introduced solids – rice, oatmeal and barley cereals, sweet potatoes, butternut squash and carrots. He wasn’t too crazy about carrots at first, but he has learned to eat them mixed with the cereal. Last week I cooked him some peas, and since I make all of his food myself, I have to say I was slightly offended when he gagged and threw them all back up. I thought it might be the texture of the skins, so I pushed the rest of what I’d made through a strainer. Even just a little bit in the cereal caused him to make the most sour face. Luckily, last night when we were at my dad’s, Paul fed him a little mashed avocado on his finger and he loved it! As a big foodie, I don’t think I could handle it if my kid didn’t like avocado.

His sleeping habits have gotten worse lately. I’m sick of everyone telling me it could be teething – which seems like the reason for everything out of the ordinary that a baby does from 4 months on. Since we tried to break him of the pacifier, we decided to do the Ferber method of sleep training. That’s where you put them down, let them cry for 5 minutes, go in to reassure them, leave, wait 10 minutes, go in, wait 15, and so on. Anyone who has ever tried to wait while their baby cries in the next room for any amount of time knows that it is very special form of torture. The way I describe it is to say that it’s like nails on a chalkboard, only it grates on your soul. Waterboarding has nothing on the extreme pain that it inflicted by forcing oneself to avoid going in to check on the baby. It has gotten better, and for a while he returned to sleeping through the night, but then he got a cold and that plan went out the window. It just isn’t fair to do sleep training when he’s congested and has a stuffy nose. We’ve even got a warm steam vaporizer, saline drops and a suction bulb. I don’t really know if any of it helps much, but it’s a temporary solution.

This past Saturday was my husband’s parents’ 50th wedding anniversary. This event was seriously stressing everyone out, especially me, as it started in the planning stages last year as a renewal of vows and moved towards a family vacation. Taking a vacation with an infant was something I was nervous about when I was still pregnant, mostly because of the expense involved and the idea of taking time off after just returning from maternity leave. Eventually these plans were abandoned as Paul’s parents’ financial situation went downhill and they had to sell their condo. Then about 10 days before the original anniversary party date, they decided to go back to the ceremony idea. My husband and all 5 of his siblings and spouses worked together in haste to put on a beautiful event. One sister got a friend to do flower arrangements & made invites and programs herself, another booked the country club and put together a full mass and I made a wedding cake. Paul organized a program after dinner where a representative from each family did something – whether it be the grandkids playing piano, singing, or simply making a little speech/toast. I even said a few words before our portion, which was a slideshow my husband had put together to music. It didn’t seem like a big deal when I thought of what to say just a few minutes before, but as I stood in front of the whole family and all their friends and thanked them for being such wonderful parents and grandparents, I broke down into tears. Still, I got through what I wanted to say.

It was an amazing night, especially considering how fast and hard everyone worked to make it happen. My concern was that his parents wouldn’t realize how much had gone on behind the scenes to make their wishes a reality, but in a speech at the end of the night they detailed all the efforts of their children and how grateful they were. Paul’s father has been very open about the infidelity he had in their marriage. He has worked since then to earn everyone’s forgiveness, and while I don’t know how I would react if my husband ever did this to me, I have to admire how his mom has stayed with him and made the marriage work. I hope that in another 44 ½ years, Paul and I will be celebrating our 50th and celebrating in a similar way. I feel so lucky to be a part of such a beautiful and loving family.

Time to pump

On Tuesday I got some bad news from the daycare provider. Usually my husband is the one to pick up Paolo at the end of the day, but I'm taking over since he found a new job (such a relief after his recent layoff!). The woman who runs the preschool told me that she thinks that Paolo needs additional bottle each day, and that he is getting fussy and cranky right around the time when the other parents' pick up their kids. She told me he is usually crying at that time and people are starting to ask questions. I felt awful. Of course I'm not trying to starve my child or keep him on a rigid schedule, but I honestly thought he was ready to go down to 4 hours between feedings. He is almost 7 months old now, eating 3 solid meals and day and taking longer naps. The pediatrician even said it was ok.

When she told me this though, I felt like crying for 2 reasons: first, because he's been unhappy and other parents are starting to wonder why he's the "crying baby" all the time, and because I know I physically can't pump any more milk than I already am. This means that I starting giving them one bottle of formula to give him at the end of the day just in case. I felt so disappointed in myself though.

When I thought about it some more, the only moms I know who solely breastfeed are stay at home moms. It's been so busy at work that my stress levels have gone way up, and even drinking a half gallon of water a day and trying to relax, the most I've pumped in one day is 19oz. That's just enough for 2 bottles and some to mix with each of his meals. I guess I'm the only one who's being so hard on myself, and I should just realize that formula isn't bad for him or anything. It will be that extra snack to tide him over til he's picked up and if they don't use it I won't feel it's a waste to toss it.

It's a struggle for me to get out of work on time at 5:30 and I'm the last one to pick up my child. I also recently found out they don't have the budget to hire anyone to help me, so I'm going to remain super swamped. At least I'm grateful that when the day is done I can leave my work at the office and go home to think only about my family. Until the next day comes and I start all over again.

Going back to work

As I raced to my son Paolo's daycare on my lunch break, scarfing down a sandwich and hoping he would be awake when I got there to nurse him, I thought to myself - I should start a blog. If not for anyone else to read, at least for myself so that I could remember the first few months of raising my child and maybe for him to one day know and appreciate how much he is loved.

So how did I get to this point? What would lead a woman who is usually the slowest eater at the table, a self-proclaimed foodie, to pack a lunch everyday consisting of things that can be eaten with one hand and then inhale them while driving frantically to breastfeed her child? I for one never thought I would be such an advocate for breastfeeding. It's more trouble than formula, keeps you from being able to go back to drinking after being pregnant and from being able to take any kind of helpful medicine when you're sick. (I finally beat a cold that lasted for 2 weeks, but that's for another entry).

I have to confess that nursing isn't the bonding experience I'd imagined it would be either. I'm usually on my iphone or reading a book or magazine while I feed him, and I don't believe it makes me a bad mother. Any woman who has done it knows it's painful, stressful and time-consuming. To think that everyday for the past 6.5 months I've been exposing my breasts to this child several times a day, only to have them either gnawed at, bitten, pinched, kicked, screamed at or pulled on is amazing to me. Not to say that pumping is any better. I'd take the emotional part of the nursing experience over the cold, unfeeling mechanical suction of a pump. Unfortunately, I'm doing that now 4 times a day just to keep up with the little man's needs at daycare. I know that it's the best thing for him though, and a hell of a lot cheaper than buying formula, so I'm determined to do it for a year.

I loved every minute of the first 5 months I spent at home with Paolo. Well, that isn't entirely true if you count the times when he just cried and screamed while I tried to put him down for a nap in his crib, or the week or so when I had the "baby blues" in a big way. Other than that though, I had fun learning all about being a mother, and watching him learn and grow. I was so sad when I knew the time had come to go back to work. I was mentally trying to prepare myself when the girl who had been covering for me decided to quit, thus cutting my leave short by 1.5 weeks. Not a big deal, but it still made for a shocking transition back into the workforce.

I hate when people ask about your "decision to go back to work." I was reading some parenting magazine the other day that weighed the pros and cons. I keep thinking, "How dare they! What decision?" In my case there just wasn't a choice. I know that things may change in the future, but in this economy and the responsibilities we have to maintain a mortgage, student loans, car payment, etc etc I don't see how any normal family can survive on one income. I can't bring it up at home any more because my husband thinks I'm talking about it as a direct reflection of his salary and efforts, but it really isn't like that. I understand that it's just the way things are, and I always knew I would end up a full-time working mommy. Unfortunately, I've come to realize that no mom is ever fully happy with their "choice" or situation. If I had the luxury of staying home, maybe I would feel unfulfilled or bored. Who knows? It's something that men don't have to deal with, but as women, we do. And that's the way it is.

So as my baby continues to develop and learn new skills, I will keep this blog and chart it along with my own development as a mother. It hasn't been easy so far, but it has been rewarding. And I know that it will only get better...