Gametes In Love

… or perhaps my lack there of. In summary, I am really, really unhappy with the way I look. And it’s my fault. Completely.

For the past year I have not been eating well, or in moderation. I’ve used breastfeeding as an excuse for over-eating, and my supply issues as a reason to not work-out.

Well, my figure is now rewarding me for the neglect with some nice poundage and flab. I hurry past the mirror heading to the shower to spare myself the disappointment. I look longingly at bodies of mothers at work and my mom’s group, envious of their willpower and ability to look fit.

But I am doing something about it. I promised myself that when G turned 1, and I started weaning I was going to do better for myself. I was a week late getting started, BUT I’m working out now daily. I’ve convinced S to do Jillian Michael’s “30 Day Shred” with me. I can find 20 minutes each day to work out, and we typically start after putting G to bed and dinner. We’re now on Day 10. It’s tiring, and I’m sore; liposuction has never sounded better, but I’m proud for making it 10 days. I’m really dedicated to making it through the 30 days.

Obviously there’s not much of a difference quite yet in my appearance, but I do feel better about myself. It’s certainly psychosomatic, but I’m not hating the mirror as much as I used to. Let’s see what I’ll have to say in another 20 days.

Meanwhile G’s been enjoying his mom and dad’s new toys (aka hand-weights). He got really mad trying to pick up a 5lb weight and not being able to. I mean really mad. It made me crack up. And take a picture.

Yeah, that’s how I feel at the end of every work-out too, Kid. Or having to work out for that matter.

When G was born, the hospital inked his feet. I saved the paper.

Well, now that he’s 1, I thought it’d be fun to do it again to see how he’s grown. I’m thinking of doing this every year… or at least as long as he’ll let me.

I’m really hoping he’ll be a lot more cooperative Year 2, ‘cuz doing this with a one year old required two people and resulted in one agitated baby.

PS. Now I know why I’ve been needing to get him new socks!

We saw the nutritionist this past Tuesday. I dragged my feet writing about it, because honestly it was beyond underwealming. I didn’t get much out of it. I’m not much of a reader (if it’s more than a web-page long I loose interest… seriously), but I guess I had done enough poking online that I received no new information from our visit.

In short: no clues as to why G goes on hunger strikes. No suggestions on what we can do to reverse them or shorten their duration. Am I frustrated? Yes. We’re at the end of the road here as far as people with letters after their names go. The only thing I can hope for is to continue tracking what’s going on around G when he goes into these phases and see if there is any environmental correlation.

None-the-less, there were a few things that the nutritionist mentioned that might be of interest to those of you reading. Changes in eating patterns may occur in youngin’ if:

1. they are teething
2. they are coming up on on a developmental milestone, or have just reached one. It’s apparently a lot more fun to do the new activity then eat.
3. their eating environment is too distracting
4. their parents make a big deal about eating. Ok, I AM guilty of this one here. I do try to be as casual as possible about giving him dinner, and never push food on him once he indicates he’s done, but I’m sure some of my concern is apparent to him
5. the parents don’t eat at the same time. This is also something we are guilty of. S and G get home at 6. I get home a bit before that and have just enough time to feed Neko, clean the litterbox and put away my pumped milk. G goes to bed between 7-7:30, so his dinner time is as soon as he gets home around 6ish. There is categorically no way I can have dinner ready for G, as well as S and I in order for us to all eat together. As much as I’d love to, it just isn’t going to happen. However, eating together is important for two reasons:
   1. the child doesn’t feel stared at, so anxiety levels don’t creep in
   2. the parents model eating behavior, and display how to eat, as well as that the food the child is about to have (provided it’s the same as the parent’s) is not poisonous, but rather edible

   So S and I are doing the best that we can. Ironically, we all eat best together when we go out for dinner.

6. there has been a change in the home. This can be a big change directly impacting the child (such as a new home), or an indirect change (parent starting a new job). Any change to a set routine will require an adjustment period.

So while some of these items do apply to us, they don’t change over time, so there’s no reason why G would have good periods and bad periods. We are doing our best to address them.

Since G is starting a new daycare on Monday though, I expect we’re about to enter a new phase in eating revolt. I’m ready for it this time though and know to expect it. Honestly, I’ll be surprised if it doesn’t happen.

Some other things the nutritionist mentioned:

• establish a dedicated eating space and eating etiquette. It’s bad for kids to run around the dinner table while they’re being fed. The primary reason is because they never get enough and it reinforces a habit of eating on the run (ha! pun)
• for G’s age group, the daily caloric intake should be around 900-1100 calories. This I already knew btw, from http://www.ohsu.edu/academic/picu/PedTPNguide.htm (I’ll spare you the article: just read section IIA). Based on G’s weight and age, right now he should be consuming between 630 and 750 kCal daily to stay on a normal curve. To increase growth, increase that intake 50-100%. So yeah, my kid is supposed to have the same portion size as me. Unreal, right?

We also talked about adding fat to his diet. Again, butter on bread, or mixed in with his cereal. Olive oil mixed in with his pureed food, or used for dipping his veggies or bread.

So yeah, while S and I pant to the 30 Day Shred (more on this in a later post) each night, I’m supposed to be fattening up the kid. Can we trade places?

Meet my dad. We call him Grandpa V.

He’s a logical guy, with a stern demeanor. However he’s a softie when it comes to G and laughs around him in ways I’ve rarely seen growing up. I love my dad, and am thrilled that he’s so excited about his grand-son.

G on the other hand doesn’t share the same sentiment. Over the last month or so, whenever my dad approached him, G’s bottom lip would pout out and was followed, within a few seconds, by a yelp, then a cry, and then some more crying. Tears are included too in that package deal. What gives? Yes, Grandpa V has a beard… but so does Daddy. Grandpa V has slightly longer hair than (most) guys in G’s life, but it’s not like he hasn’t seen long hair before. I mean, c’mon – I was channeling Cousin It until I cut my hair a few weeks ago. So I don’t get it. It bums me out too because I’m SO excited that my dad is so in love with this little guy and is such a softie for him: he was never that way with me or my sister. I know this bugs him on the inside too.

He doesn’t do it with any of the other grand-parents.

I’m trying to show G that my dad is not scary. I sit next to my dad, holding G, showing him he’s alright. G comes around, and yet 5 min later… crocodile tears.

It doesn’t help that we live far away from the grandparents. It’s just our fact of life. I’d say “Dad, I want you and G to spent more time together”, but 350 miles tend to stand in the way of that. I’m thinking of making a Skype video call part of a weekly routine, but I don’t know that it’s the same thing – besides I can make G sit still only for so long before he wants to crawl away to a stacking cube and lick it.

So any ideas? More than welcome. Meanwhile, Dad – we love you. Please don’t be sad!

Ok, I take it back. My kid is now officially cruising AND taking his first supported steps. This morning… nada. Then we went to a playdate where G’s friend M was running circles around G. I should mention that M is but a week or two older than G. I guess G was feeling a bit behind, because when we got home he decided to try out some of M’s moves. Thanx M!

I stood there with my jaw agape with my hands over my mouth (tearing up mind you) as I watched my munchkin push and step with his car. Then it hit me “Camera’s right there, Record! Record! Record!” So here are a few precious moments of G walking.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NVntbaol_c4]

PS. Don’t you dig his new shoes? They’re on sale at Amazon right now!

That’s right! On Wednesday (9/2), in honor of Grammie and Pop’s last day in town, G decided to stand. Since then he’s also made a couple of steps on his own. I am far from calling it cruising, however, as the steps (at least the ones I witnessed) didn’t appear intentional, nor were repeated. But we’ve got a young man who’s ready to stand and deliver!

Doesn’t he just look SO proud of himself?

This past week G had a whole lotta family love around him. I’m kicking myself because of a Legacy project I missed out on the opportunity of doing. Right after everyone left, I thought to myself “Wouldn’t it be cool, if all of G’s (great-)grammies, grand-pa’s, aunts, uncles and cousins recorded their voices reading him a story? Each voice, a different story.” That way he’d remember everyone in between visits and it would be a great keep-sake for when he’s older.

My dad’s mom passed away when I was very young. She had cancer. Before she died, she gifted me a set of ear-rings that had been passed down in my family a few generations. That evening was taped, and it’s my favorite recording of all time. It’s so amazing for me to hear her voice and get to know her through that sound. I’d like G to be able to have the same experience.

So… it’s a project in the works, but meanwhile, here are a whole lotta photos from the past week.

Family Portraits

See more family photos

Play-time w/ Aunt P, Grandma and Grandpa

See more playtime fun

We’re weaning.

G is now a year old, and with the exception of maybe 10oz total of formula “experimentation”, I can say that this little man has been exclusively breast-milk fed. This is something I never thought I’d come to say. Even before he was born I knew that every day I could provide for him would be a blessing. I knew that supply issues, having ran in my family, would greet me as well. That assumption did not disappoint. I’ve taken numerous supplements and meds, woken-up each morning at 2am to pump (just to maintain supply), hydrated myself silly, and spent 2.5hrs of my work day in the mom’s room pumping. I have no qualms with saying that I’ve given breastfeeding my best shot. I am proud to have gotten here. It was pure stubborn-ness, but we got here.

I began introducing dairy to G about a week and a half before his first birthday. My freeze-stash was depleting and my supply took a dip again. I saw no reason to try to fuss with my meds dosage, so I started with 1oz of whole cow milk in his bottles mixed in with his Mamma-Juice. I’ve increased it by an ounce each day. He’s now consuming 14oz of cow’s milk working his way up to 20oz. I will continue nursing him mornings and evenings as long as my supply will let me… or G will co-operate.

I can’t say that I’m not enjoying the liberty that weaning is affording me. I’m more productive at work. I can sleep more than 3 hours in a row, so I’m rested more than I have been all year. Above all, my anxiety levels have greatly come down. I don’t know if I can ever describe what it feels like to know that you can’t give your baby something they need. Especially when you know that 1) they’re under-weight; 2) refuse to drink formula (those 10oz were a battle, believe me, and we tried all sorts of different brands and ratio mixes w/ breastmilk). Interestingly enough, now all of that stress is subsiding, I’m enjoying the nursing time we have together more than before.

The one thing that did take me aback, though, was G’s one year Well appointment. During our discussion on nutrition and weaning, G’s doc was happy he was responding so well to WCM, but also advised that in addition to the moo-juice, he’d love to see me continue nursing until G turns two!!! The look on my face must have been something priceless (perhaps a mixture of awe and shock), because S stumbled to clarify. Honestly, I was thinking “Are you kidding me? Have you any idea what it took to get here?” I’m not against extended breastfeeding, believe me, I just never saw myself being able to do it. And I was resentful, because I felt like I just ran a marathon, only to be told I had to run the distance one more time before I could be rewarded. I’ll be honest, I’m not sure we’ll make it another full year, but we’ll take it each day at a time.

Meanwhile, I am gradually  dropping how often I pump at work. This week, I’m down to 4 sessions; next week 3; then 2; then 1. I will continue to have that mid-day pump for as long as G and I do this together. I’ve heard too many horror stories to make drastic changes, plus if we’re going to continue the morning and evening feeds, I don’t really need to dry up. This milk will be frozen and used only for times I’m not around for him. It’s just strange that now that I’m weaning, because I still pump as often, my freezer stash is growing. Who knows how long that will last, but I’m not taking it for granted.

On a side note, once G is fully transitioned to WCM, I only have to send empty bottles to day care. The new facility takes care of the milk. I’m looking forward to that!

G had his 1yr old check-up today (18lb, 28.5″ tall, 18″ head circumf, btw). Trying to be “good patients” S and I prepped our question list before heading to the appointment. Amongst them was “How do we use this thermometer?”

Don’t laugh! We got this really cool, and generous gift for G’s baby shower last year: a themporal artery thermometer. Except that we couldn’t get it to read properly. I tried scanning left to right, up and down, slowly, quickly, with the button pressed before the scan, during the scan… you get the point. Each time, G’s temperature read something like 77.blah or 82.blah (at best). Either way,  something slightly over cryogenically chilled baby.

So I quit trying to use it. I had this fancy thermometer, and instead I was using an older digital thermometer and trying to keep my kid’s arm still for a minute while I shoved a thermometer under his armpit (I just won’t shove anything up his rear if I can help it — it’s a promise I made to myself). All in all, we had a wonderful electronic sculpture occupying the dresser drawer. Until today!

We took the thermometer in to the Dr’s office. Our pedi’s nurse took one look at it (from the door) and said “Oh, this is the same one we used to use!”

“Good! Can you show us how to work it?”

She had a perplexed look on her face, walked into the room, took off the cap (It had a cap?!?!?!), pressed the button, ran it over G’s head and got a reading. In the 90’s no less! Yeah, apparently step 1: take off cap. S and I looked at each other and he busted out laughing. I on the other hand felt apologetic “I swear we’re not mentally disabled, really”

In my defense the thermometer doesn’t even look like there’s a cap on it. And we did read the instruction manual, several times. It never said “take off cap”.

So we’re smart people… really! (Just take my word for it!)

While I gather up my thoughts of the whirlwind that’s been this past week-end, I thought I’d post something a little more slow-pace. This is a video of G waking up in the morning. I want to get it out for posterity because I find it hilarious.

First of all, G’s inherited S’ “wake-up” genes. In other words, IT.TAKES.FOREVER!!! Mornings are just a bear to get him going in the morning. I do my best not to startle him, and having learned from S go as slow as I can. However, we have a schedule to keep in order to get everyone out of the house (and to daycare/work) on time, so there’s only so much leisure we can get.

Pardon the period of sheer blackness here. I was stumbling for the light.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oeYUI-bbB74]

Just think what I have to look forward to when 1st grade starts! Care to pity me?

The irony to all this, is that I wake HIM up between 6:20-6:30 on week-days. Doesn’t he look like he could sleep for another hour? However, sure enough, come week-ends he’s up and rocking the crib by 6:35. I think it’s called “Payback!”