The Holiday Spirit

I'm going to admit something totally un-American: I hate Christmas. Shocking, right? Might as well just give up and let the terrorists win - but I do. Sometimes I think I'd hate it less if the Christmas season lasted a reasonable two weeks, but the mid-October to New Year's Christmasapalooza? Hate. it. This year on Halloween itself I walked into a CVS to purchase some candy corn and couldn't find it, because there was a giant cardboard box of Christmas candy draped with pine garland around it in the middle of the store. I never get into the holiday spirit, I generally annoy everyone by insisting on giving obnoxious gifts that imply my lack of christmas spirit (A copy of an inconvenient truth for the person that doesn't believe in global wamring; a donation to a charity for the most materialistic people on my list) which only serves to royally piss people off. The better plan would be to just grin and hang some tinsel, but I can't help myself. This time of year brings out my misanthropy.

Honestly in the giant pro/con list that is having a kid, the holidays were a definite CON for me. I know some people with an 8 month old would have been at a tree farm November 5th just dying to get their baby's first Christmas tree. Lots of people. But I have been dreading having to "do" christmas - fake enthusiasm for it, do the Santa thing, give my kid non-jerky gifts (nothing spells therapy like your mom giving you a flock of geese for christmas 12 years in a row). It's one thing for me to put on my people-pleasing face on Christmas day and visit the relatives; it's entirely another to have the responsibility of creating another person's Christmas memories. Kids love Christmas. Time to suck it up.

The one exception to my negativity is Christmas parties. I do like Christmas parties, mostly because I really like parties and the mere fact that a party takes place in december doesn't make it bad. Owen went to his first Christmas party last night (sadly, we were invited to two christmas parties last night, both of which I really would have liked to go to, but we had to go to the family one) and my anti-Chrismasness began to thaw a little. Every year my mom's side of the family (which is enormous) has a christmas party. They rent a VFW hall, bring lots of food, hire a magician for the kids and one of my mom's cousins dresses up as Santa. It's actually pretty....fun.

don't get any ideas. I'm still the grinchiest grinch that ever grinched the grinch...but you know what? I was excited when Santa showed up for Owen to sit on his lap. And all the kids running around yelling for santa seemed more cheerful than annoying. Even the Christmas music didn't get on my nerves the way it usually does. I left thinking that maybe this Christmas with a kid thing isn't going to be as bad as I think.

This is Owen NEAR Santa. Abandoning him on Santa's lap wasn't going to work so well (stranger anxiety is starting to kick in) but we got near to Santa so he could give him a present.



Here are my parents pretending to give Owen some beer. It was really just water, but it was funny.




Here's a nice picture of us with my parents:


Santa gave Owen a present, which he actually still hasn't opened:


An finally, because I think it's funny, this is what Owen wore yesterday. Yep, your mama dresses you funny. Sorry, kid.

On my tombstone, it will read:

"She is using eternity to catch up on sleep.
It will probably take that long."

I am so sleep deprived that I am surprised I am still alive, actually. A person in my condition probably shouldn't be operating motor vehicles, using knives, or even hairdryers, for that matter.

Before we begin discussing Owen's sleep problems, I would like to preempt the discussion that usually follows by providing the following information:

Yes, I have read Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child. I've ALSO read: The No-Cry Sleep solution, Solve your Child's Sleep Problems (ha!), The Baby Whisperer Solves All Your Problems (double ha!), Babywise, aaaaaaaand The Seven O'Clock Bedtime. Yes! All of them! And I've swaddled. I've done pick up/put down. I've let him cry. I've picked him up right when he starts to whimper to see if I could get him back to sleep before he ever really wakes up. I've tried a "dream feed". I've tried putting water in the bottle. I've tried Ferber. I've tried modified Ferber. I've tried cosleeping. I've tried putting my tshirts in the crib. I've tried making it warmer. I've tried making it cooler. I've tried having him nap less during the day. I've tried having him nap MORE during the day. I'VE TRIED IT! WHATEVER IT IS, PEOPLE, I HAVE TRIED IT!

I feel like I have tried everything under the sun, twice, and the fact remains that the three of us are still waking up no less than four times a night, and on really bad nights, 5 or 6. And I know that the conventional wisdom at this point is that I just have to let him cry it out. But I am telling you - he will cry. and cry. and cry. but he will not get to out. And I can do the two minutes of crying. the five minutes of crying. I can even do the 18 minutes of crying before going in. But I can't do hours of crying. Perhaps, if I truly left the baby to cry for several hours several nights in a row, he would eventually put himself back to sleep. I tried a hard line approach exactly once, and after about three hours I decided that it was essentially child abuse, and I'll never do it again.

But we are not sleeping. It is really, really bad. And I don't know how much longer I can keep this up. And I am frustrated that almost every friend I have that has a kid loves to tell me how they were sleeping 10 hours at a time at 6 1/2 weeks. And all the helpful suggestions - look, I know people have nothing but the best intentions, but you do not go months at a time without sleeping without "how get baby sleep through night" being your #1 google search. And at this point, through the night is way more than I'm asking for. I'll take one - heck, I'll take TWO night wakings and call it success. He's capable of it - at around 4 - 5 months Owen was waking up once a night. This night waking stuff started around six months, and has been getting progressively worse since then. I'm entirely convinced that if present trends continue, we might as well resign ourselves to never sleeping again by a year.

It's because I drank all that coffee when I was pregnant, isn't it. dang.

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.