Gametes In Love

Yeah, it’s been awhile. Yet another sad casualty of work 🙁

G, the party animal!

Check out my “bear” ass!

Tummy time aint too bad

A few days ago I was getting dressed following a shower. I had pulled out two nursing pads prior to me getting clean and laid them out by my clothes. There were two. I knew this because I remembered opening each one of their little plastic packages.

Well, I came out of the shower, I put on my clothing, and I reached for my nursing pads. One… and where’s the other? I flipped the sheets around, I looked everywhere, but it was no-where to be found. After awhile, I gave up looking and just popped open another new one.

So fast forward to today. I get out of the shower. I walk out into our bedroom in my bathrobe. S is on our bed playing with G. As I’m getting dressed I hear some giggling. At this, S says:

“Babe — you have the nursing mom’s equivalent of toilet paper stuck to your shoe.”

“Whaaaaa’?”

“Go in the bathroom, turn around and look in the mirror”

So with this, I march back into the bathroom, turn so that my back is facing the mirror and look around. Stuck to my back, like an ever so blatant “Kick me!” sign, was my missing nursing pad. How I didn’t see it until today, I don’t know.

Mystery resolved: nursing pad found. Sadly, brain still missing.

It wasn’t bad! The first day (as you read) was hard, but as the week progressed it got better and better. My second day drop-off wasn’t nearly as eventful as the first and by the end of the week, I felt like a pro.

G also kept improving. By day 3 we were getting reports that he was enjoying hanging out with the big kids, eating well, and napping… on his own… without being held… 3 times a day, for at least an hour each. By the end of the week we were asking for tips on how to put our kid down. The main instructor (we’ll be calling her “F”) is really nice and she seems to care for G a lot. At the end of the week she told S that G was a smart little boy. Of course, I’m thrilled to hear that, but with a 4 month old, what does “smart” look like?

My only quarrel is diapers. As it turns out I’m an overly obsessive diaper changer. Apparently I’m one of few insane parents that likes to change their child every hour. No, I’m not a germ-a-phobe, but in my defense, G has never had a diaper rash nor has he ever needed rash creme. Besides, why would you want to let your child stew in their excrement if you know they need to be changed. I know my kid has gone in his diaper over that hour so why not fix it? Unfortunately, F this week would change him at most 4 times per day. From 7am to 5:30pm, 4 diaper changes. I don’t think she’s used to working with cloth diapers. 4 changes might be OK for disposables, but doesn’t work as well for cloth. They’re each sopping wet, and he’s started to develop some redness on his bum from diaper rash. I’m not thrilled, so I think this will be a conversation topic for the next week. I understand that I won’t be finding anyone who’ll want to change my kid as often as I do, but at least every other hour isn’t too much to ask.

Work also went alright this week.  I had to turn in my performance self-assessment for our focal reviews on Friday which was interesting. I knew this was coming up, but I didn’t realize I only had 4 days to get it done. It didn’t help that while on leave, I had conveniently forgotten (or mentally blocked out) just about everything I worked on last year. I had several drooling moments as I stared at a blank document in an attempt sing my own praises. I’m pretty sure I deserve a good review (and preferably a raise)… I just couldn’t remember “why”. The stupid focal tool doesn’t take image attachments, so pictures of G looking extra cute weren’t going to cut it. None the less, I got it done.

I’m also coming up to speed with the projects I’ll be taking over. I’m much slower at completing my tasks than before. I don’t know why, and to be honest it’s driving me crazy. I really hope that “mommy-brain” doesn’t professionally mean “mush-brain”.

Pumping at work is a challenge. They say that the first few days your supply takes a major dip and I’m here to vouch for the validity of that fact. It’s ramping back up, but I’m still not producing as much as I need for G. Let’s just say I’m REALLY thankful for my freezer back-up supply. I wish I could forget about work while I’m pumping, but I’m in that room 4 times a day, 30 minutes each. That’s a quarter of my work-day. Although I block off the times that I pump on my calendar, I can’t prevent meetings from being organized around me. I’ve already had to call in to several, which is a little ackward. I try to be discreet, but wonder if people can hear the “Whom-whom-whom” sound of the machine on the other end of the phone, and giggle to themselves while they hear it.

It felt like a very loong week. I think I made a mistake my returning on a Monday and doing a full week. For any one wondering about how to approach returning back to work, do it on a Thursday. Wednesday if you’re feeling brave.

I was thrilled when Friday finally came. Saturday morning I had the luxury of sleeping in until 7:30. I never thought that would be a luxury, but I waited for G to wake us up for a change. I kept wondering if I should spent the whole week-end just looking at him and playing with him, or actually attend to all the other things I needed to get done around the house. Ended up doing a bit of both, which is good.

So here we are, another Sunday evening ahead of yet another work week. Here’s hoping it will get easier still. I’m off to bed. Meanwhile, if you just so happen to run into my brain and productivity (the two are playing hookie), please… send them my way!

Happy Monday!

S’ mom gave us some parenting advice at our shower: “Never say that your child won’t do something because some day they’ll go and do just that.”

I’m finding that this piece of advice is extending not only to G, but to my expectations of myself and parenthood in general. I am seeing myself doing/saying/feeling things I never thought I would.

– A conversation about baby poop with friends? Never thought that would ever be a popular topic of discussion, but yet it has been… on several occasions.

– Breastfeeding in public? Check! I cover up, of course, but feeding my kid has taken priority over my modesty and ego.

– Pumping exclusively? Utter failure! I idealized that I would only pump, and while G got his essential nutrients through my milk, S and I would equally be able to share in baby bonding and feeding. Yeah…. HA! When G is hungry and vocally telling me about it, I think “bust out the boob!”, not “where’s my pump?” Having prepped milk is also an option, but being in a location where’s its constantly available in the quantity needed isn’t always a guarantee. I admire the women that do this, but as it turns out, I am not one of them. And to be honest, I don’t mind it much either. Since I’ve been at work I seem to do 50-50 pump and feed. It’s still a ton of work.

– Staying at home full time w/ baby… and enjoying it? Big check. This one was perhaps my biggest surprise. Some women have known from the start that they want to be stay at home moms. That’s fine with me, but with my nature, I knew this choice was not the right one for me. However the last few months at home with G were really a lot of fun and I enjoyed it more than I expected. I miss him during the day now and constantly wonder what he’s doing.

– Appeasing a child as opposed to following the parenting books? Have you seen our hair drier lately? We’re on the second one (after burning out the first)! The first was raising a white flag and was tying bedsheets together in an attempt to escape our house from over-use. It was sitting in a box unused (except when house-guests asked for it), collecting dust until G came along. As it was one of few things that pacified him, it got overly frequent use. Now it’s gone to hair drier heaven and I’m certain loving every second of it. When it died, S and I were in the store a few hours later purchasing it’s successor.  We do what we gotta do to get G to a happy state, and if that doesn’t jive with people that have “doctor” or “whisperer” in their author name, I’ve just stopped caring.

– Daily wake-ups before 6am? Yeah, getting out of the house at a good time implies spending a good amount of time getting ready. Although I don’t wake G until after 6, my alarm goes off so that I can finish packing up his breakfast, my pump, shower and dress. I used to think parents that got up before 6 were nuts, and yet here I am. 5:45 bed exit for me this a.m. I dread what my life will look like when solids & breakfast come into the picture. I now understand why the makers of Pop-tarts are diving into a pool of golden coins.

– Home by 7pm? I never understood families that just refused to go out for dinner, or had strict timelines when they wanted you to visit and leave by. Now I get it. If G’s not starting his bed-time routine by 7-7:30 he is cranky. I mean CRANKY! It makes for an unpleasant dinner experience for anyone. So we rush to be home in time to put him down. Next time I invite you for dinner at 5:30, that’s why! That’s right — we have a curfew again. Mind you the earliest curfew I’ve ever had.

So there you have it. A few of my “Oh, I’ll never do that!” items that have come to bite me. Feel free to add your own.

Aaah, the prodigal daughter returns. Four and a half months seem to have flown by, and today I returned back to work as G attended his first day at day care.

I thought that dropping him off would be hard. And it was in some respects. I tried to move around the house this morning focused on everything we needed to do before leaving. If I didn’t I was afraid I was going to loose it. S filled in for me though and cried before we left the house. I followed suit by crying in the car on the way over; and G apparently cried after we left. Yeah, it was a wet day for this family.

I thought that my first day back at work would be hard. But it was thankfully OK.  My colleagues appeared to genuinely appreciate me being back. It feels good to know I was missed!
I spent my day at work going over hundreds upon hundreds of emails. I started my day with about 1560 messages (down from over 2K as of Fri night) and pressed the delete key… a lot! In some respects after being gone this long, it almost feels like starting a new job. The only difference is that I know who people are and have a vague idea what they’re talking about. Memorable moments of my day include:

1. not remembering which floor I worked on
2. not remembering the name of the building I worked in
3. walking into the men’s restroom and being there a good minute before figuring it out
4. being asked by a young, non-parent co-worker if G spoke yet. Unsure if he was kidding, I responded “Yes, he’s reciting Shakespeare!”

Can I just say right now that I am REALLY glad that I didn’t become a brain surgeon like I wanted to in Jr. high? After reading the above, you should be glad I didn’t either.

I had a few meetings, and got the heck out as soon as the last one was over. Yeah, it was early, but for a first day back after a 4.5 month leave it felt like a long day. Besides, I just wanted to go and hug my guy as tight as I could without his eyes popping out of his little eye-sockets. Yeah, I really, really missed him.

Our day-care lady was surprised to see me. I guess I should have told her when I’ll be coming to get him. She greeted me by saying that he cried a bunch unless being caried around and that he’s a terrible napper. Yep. That’s my boy, alright!

He was calm when I got there, though, and gave me a big smile when he saw me. It’s things like that that make my heart melt. Once we came home, he proceeded to tell me about his day. Ugh, that coo kills me. I never dreamed that I could be this attached to a short, bald man who spoke in tongues.

I still don’t think I could ever be a stay at home parent, but after today, I understand why people would want to be.

Well… not to S, nor me, but apparently G finds them hilarious. The other day during a diaper change, I overheard the following exchange through the monitor

S: Holy cow!

G: [cackle]

S: Look at this! What has your mother been feeding you?

G: [cackle]

Apparently big, messy, stinky diapers are especially comical. Either that or the look of disbelief on our faces.

I think I’ve mentioned by now that “The Wheels On The Bus” is G’s favorite song. Hearing it makes him smile, and in desperate times stop crying. Occasionally the verses of the song are not long enough to get him to calm down (yep, 8’s not enough even when repeated), so S and I have started adding our own. The bus now carries not only human passengers, but animal life of all kind.

This evening, the bus was shuttling donkeys, cows, frogs, dogs, cats and sheep. Yep, we either went on a ride on Noah’s Arc, or a bus in some rural country.