On Owen's Future in Contact Sports.

It's promising, I'll say that. Yesterday Owen took a header down the flight of stairs that leads to the basement and ended up essentially shaking it off. He had just eaten his breakfast, and he was doing what he always does, which is crawl madly around the house pulling himself to standing on anything he can get his hands on. I was across the room from him, keeping an eye on him while he monkeyed around. He crawled over to the baby gate which is at the top of the stairs leading to the basement, which Andy installed a few weeks ago by bolting it to the wall. It's one of his favorite things to pull up on, which is fine, because like I said the thing is bolted to the wall. He likes pulling himself up on the bars and peering down the stairs.

Except that all the bolting in the world doesn't help if the damn gate is not CLOSED. From where I was standing, the gate looked shut, but it was not latched. So Owen pulled himself up, leaning forward in the process and....you got it. The gate swung inwards, and Owen went headfirst down the stairs. Watching this happen was probably the worst 5 seconds of my entire life, because I knew I was too far away to stop him and I could hear him falling down the stairs (but not see him, because the stairs are behind the bookshelf) and he of course was screaming his head off. As was I. Andy came running in when I screamed and, realizing what was happening, bolted for the stairs. I was trying to do the same thing, so like cartoon characters we crashed into one another. Finally Andy got down there and picked him up. He luckily fell straight down the stairs - and I say luckily because the stairs are open on one side to the basement, with a 8-10 foot drop to the concrete floor below. If he had tumbled or slid to the left instead of going straight down, the consequences are too terrifying to really contemplate.

We brought him straight to Newton Wellesley, with me of course hyperventilating all the way. In further luck, our pediatrician happened to be in the hospital taking care of the newborns in the nursery that day he saw us himself. I adore our pediatrician, so I was so happy to find out he was there. Owen had his first x-ray, as his nose was swollen across the bridge and had been bleeding when we picked him up so dr. Yuan was concerned it was broken. But, after his initial screaming after the fall, by the time we got to Newton Wellesley Owen was in a pretty good mood. He charmed the pants of all the hospital staff, especially the xray techs.

Today, Owen has a swollen nose and a black eye, but otherwise is none the worse for wear. He's been his usual cheerful self today despite looking like he's been in a barfight. I tried to take some pictures of his face for this entry, but he was so intent on climbing, exploring etc. that he would not stay still and these were all I could get:





guess he's feeling OK.

As for Andy and I, well, we'll probably never be the same again. I'm not sure my heart rate has returned to normal yet.

Oh, and we will certainly double (and triple) check all babyproofing in the future.

Happy Thanksgiving

I have some cute new photos to post from Thanksgiving. We did Turkey day with Andy's side of the family this year (at which time we somehow volunteered to host Thanksgiving next year. Yikes!) Owen is on the move. As you can see, his favorite things to do are pull up, crawl around, and make ridiculous faces. I included an adorable picture of Owen and his great-grandma. Owen is lucky to have a living great-grandparent. As wonderful as it is to see Andy's grandma enjoy him, it did make me sad that my grandparents never got to meet him.

Anyway, I have things to post about but there's been a hiatus because WE ARE NOT SLEEPING. Owen is going through a pernicious and terrible sleep regression. Last night he was up no less than 6 times, wailing like his life would end every time. I am exhausted. I will try and post more pictures and some more substantive thoughts later this weekend. But if I don't get to it, it's because I died of sleep deprivation. sorry.

Sniff.

Today was the first day that I went to work...and did not bring......

THE PUMP.

you'd think I'd feel wonderful! And liberated! And unchained from the wretched wheeze of the robot baby!

But I feel...sniff! sniff! my baby is getting big. he has four teeth! and I could keep pumping, but it's really a drag and he's already 8 months, which is WAY longer than most people nurse and I will continue nursing in the mornings and at night for as long as my milk lasts but still...


sniff.

Working Girl.

I have to work full time. THAT is a non negotiable state of affairs. Sometimes, that bums me out. I really like my job, so it's not like I'm dragging myself off somewhere I hate every single day. And when I really think about it, I don't think I'm suited to being home all the time. It would be fun for about a week, probably, and then I think I'd get really bored, really fast. If I had my optimum situation, I would work part time, or slightly less than part time, Maybe something in the 15-20 hours a week range. That would be ideal for me right now, because sometimes I feel like between work and Owen I have two full time jobs - (OH WAIT, I DO HAVE TWO FULL TIME JOBS!) and it's easy to feel like I'm doing neither of them well.

I am lucky in the sense that my job has given me the option of working either 5 eight hour days or 4 ten hour days, so I can be home with the baby on Fridays (like I am right this minute.) The obvious choice is the 4 ten hour days, right? Who wouldn't pick that! When I realized that option was available to me I jumped at it, and I've had that schedule for about 6 weeks now. It should be great for me. A whole extra day to get things done around the house, run errands, have playdates with my friends who are stay at home moms, and watch Owen try to chew through every electrical cord in the house, while still retaining my full time salary and benefits.

Except it's not really as great as it's cracked up to be. I LOVE being home Fridays, but it has created a nightmare for me at work. First of all, I don't really have a job that's suited to a 4 day week. I actually have a great deal of responsibility (relative to what I get paid, an absurd amount of responsibility. It's annoying.) And when I'm not there for 3 days, things invariably fall apart. Every Monday is a 10 (11, or 12) hour nightmare. Plus, I feel a lot of pressure to never screw up, ever, lest they take my Fridays off away. Also, I never really worked 40 hours to begin with - before the baby came I showed up a little before 8, and left around 5:30, five days a week - and that was barely enough time to get things done, despite the fact that I was a "40 hour" employee. Now, I get there around 7:40 and I try and leave by 6, I never take a lunch, and I am drowning in stuff to do.

But I want my Fridays, dammit! Every Monday I think "this is crazy. I need to just stop doing this and go back to my old schedule, and suck it up. Most people work five days a week. you should too." But just at the moment I decide to say something to my boss my brain rebels, and I don't do it. (Incidentally, that's the same exact thing that happens ever single day with nursing. I am so, so ready to stop. But some insane part of my brain is forcing me to continue. I am my own worst enemy)

So anyway, today I am home and the 4 day weeks seems like such a wonderful thing, I would be a fool to give it up. But on Monday, I know full well I will be cursing my existence.

I think I am losing my mind. Sigh.

a drive by-blogging.

I don't have a lot of time, but I can't not post about halloween. The great pumpkin himself appears!



We had a really great time yesterday. Owen's first halloween was a great success. We ended up having friends over and a little halloween party. The highlight was my halloween-inspired black bean dip:



KIDDING! (but you have to admit, that dip is cute.) The highlight was actually seeing our old friends Bill and Colleen, and thier son, Owen's buddy Liam. We miss them dearly! We got some great pictures of the two boys in their costumes. This is my favorite: the thought bubble above these two totally says "OMG. Why did you let your mom dress you up like that?"



I like this one too. It's as if they're colluding on a plan to give the two crazy women who dressed them up in ridiculous outfits for the sole purpose of taking pictures and laughing hysterically the slip.



Seriously, though, can you blame them?


Finally, a rare family shot:



awww. There you have it folks. Team Cox.