I hope I looked like hell this morning

because I totally ignored everyone on my way into daycare. I rather hope that they figured "eh, she's just bitchy cause she's exhausted/sick/undead."

Burrito fell asleep on the floor at 7 last night. I carried him up to bed, where we both had blissful sleep from 10 to 11, at which point he awoke and began to fuss. I figured he was hungry, so I fed him - after one side, he fell asleep. I rocked him for a few minutes, and then attempted to put him back in his crib.

no dice.

So back to the rocking chair, where he "fell asleep" again. I'm thinking he's playing possum here. Again with the crib, again no dice. I figured I'd try this "cry it out" thing, since he's almost 10 months, and normally sleeps through the night in his crib. I changed his diaper before it as well, to make sure there was nothing else he was complaining about. Everything seemed go for sleep.

SO, 5 minutes later, he's still crying. I go back in, pick him up, pat him on the back, put him back down, paci in mouth, blanket on. Crying again. Next time, just put his paci back in, pat him on the butt, done. Crying again. After an hour of this (I'm not sure if I kept it up every 5 minutes exactly, it was midnight-ish after all), I decided to try something, and moved him over into my bed instead of rocking him. He settled right down. Ah. Ha.

Back in the crib, buddy boy. There is no way I will get any sleep with him in the bed - and it's not safe. I had the huge body pillow on one side and me on the other, but if he were to wake up and crawl away without waking me up, his head + the wood floor? not good. And if he stays there, I'd be waking up every five seconds to make sure he's still there.

Sooooo, the crying went on for another hour until he calmed down and finally fell asleep. With me rubbing his chest. For about five minutes. All of this = one exhausted mom. I decided to take a mental health day today, as this weekend was insanely busy, and I was "ON" all weekend. You know the term, right moms? Or anyone who has ever watched kids? You have to be the go-to person, the entertainer, the caretaker, the feeder, etc. I needed some Cat time again. Just me. And I'm pretty sure that everyone's been there before. In order to be the parent I want to be, I need a little down time every now and then. This is only the 2nd time I have taken him to daycare and stayed home, and the previous time I had the stomach flu.

Today, I'm going to do some yoga, make myself some healthy meals, drink lots of water, and relax. Maybe some pilates too and a walk with the dog. Later on? I'll make my husband a pineapple upside down cake. And pick up the kid of course, feeling renewed and ready to play.

Of course, I'll have to go back to work tomorrow...but work is a post for another day.

And, happy birthday to my wonderful husband!

Red Red Whine

After this morning, I’m not sure who has worse separation anxiety – the burrito or the dog.

So this morning, I was planning to wake up early and give Leroy a bath before I dropped him off at the vet for his dental cleaning. Which is aWHOLEnother post in and of itself. Burrito had other plans. He woke up happy as a clam, played around in the office after he had his breakfast, and then I did the UNTHINKABLE – I dropped him in the crib so I could shower. *gasp*

I know, awful, right? You would think I made the kid crawl over hot coals. He would not be satisfied with me even being in the room, I had to be holding him and within crawling distance and in sight at all times in order for him to be content this morning. This did not bode well for my plans. So I did the only thing I could think of – turned on all of his normally entertaining toys, dropped him in the crib, and ran. It was a 1-minute bath for the dog, who was supremely smelly and in need, and then back to the burrito.

I sat him in his bouncy seat which does not “bounce” because all 19.8lbs of him is focused on crying as he watches me get in the shower. Now to be fair, the crying stopped when I picked him up from the crib and after he got settled in the bouncy chair – it’s just whining now. He can’t see me? Whine. The caterpillar toy is making noise? Whine. The monkey on his bouncy seat is looking at him with the wrong tone? Whine.

At the same time, there is a not-quite-soaking wet dog locked in the kitchen, licking his still-empty dog dish that used to contain food, and whining because he has no food in said dish. He couldn’t eat anything this morning due to his dental cleaning. So Bad Bad Leroy Brown is making pitiful dog noises in the kitchen, burrito is upstairs alternating between angry, indignant shrieks and whining, and I’m sure if there were any neighbours home on either side of my house, I’d have the cops knocking on my door wanting to know if I was hoarding animals/neglecting lots of children/keeping Gollum in my house.

Burrito’s whining continued until we got to daycare, at which point I took him out of his seat, set him down, and he turned around and started bawling. I handed him to a daycare lady and MOMMA RUN. This is only the second time I’ve had to do the MOMMA RUN, thankfully. He’s a happy baby most of the time, but when he gets into an “I want parent” mood, it’s on like Donkey Kong.

Adderall.

It sounds like a whispered conversation in the corner of a backyard bbq; a name dropped at a parent/teacher meeting; a scene out of Desperate Housewives.

I've always avoided medication; I don't like taking pills (have a horrible gag reflex, insert BJ jokes here), I hate shots, and just generally figured I could get by without it. I hate taking bcp every day, and taking tylenol or my migraine meds when I do have one.

However, it was suggested last week that I could benefit from a medication that could help me to focus. And I have been considering it.

I felt ambushed when I walked into my counseling meeting and my husband had already been talking to the therapist and it was the first thing that was said - hey, how about going on this? Just like it was candy. Here, have a gumball. It'll make you more efficient. Hubs told me that I was taking it too personally, and that it didn't mean there was something wrong with me. Just that I needed a little extra chemical push in my brain to help my neurons to fire; or something like that.

I still don't know how to feel about it. After the Desperate Housewives scene popped into my head, I thought it might be good - I could get a lot more done! Prioritize better! Remember everything I wanted to do in a day! But would it really help? Would the side effects be too much for me? Would I be able to sleep? Would I end up doing all of the work around the house? Hubs looked a bit hurt when I balked at taking medication. He said that it worked for him, and I didn't have a problem with him taking medication for his chemical imbalance. I said that was because it was him who brought it up. He recognized a problem. Me? I didn't think it was a problem until it was a problem for hubs. I've always been a little scatterbrained, but I thought it had just gotten worse now that I was working over 40 hours a week and taking care of a kid. I never wanted to do housework in the first place - yes, dishes sometimes sit in the sink for up to a week. Other things were just more important to me.

But lately I have been forgetting things, and it's really getting to hubs. I'll leave something around the house, meaning to come back to it, and it will sit there for a week until he gets upset that it's been there for a week and I haven't done anything. Mostly, laundry. Dishes in the kitchen. My things lying around the house. I left two sweaters draped over a chair in the living room for two weeks. I'd walk by and think, "oh, I have to take those upstairs and do such-and-such with them." But then I'd never come back. It seems now? That I can't finish anything.

So, because I have such a fear - stigma, even - with taking medication for this, I'm going to tough it out and see how I do. I started a list of items that need to be done during the week on a regular basis: laundry, vacuuming, bathroom cleaning, etc. I check them off when they're done. It's going well so far. I just feel like I don't have any time in the evenings to spend with my husband and child - even though he assures me that I do spend quality time with them. I guess that's something that's hard to reconcile for me. I grew up with my mom doing the cleaning on the weekends. Since we go out and run errands, visit, and just generally have fun on the weekends that hubs doesn't work now, it's a little tougher. Especially on the weekends when he sleeps after working 3rd shift. I try to be quiet, but it's tough with a 9 month old! And if I go out, I get nothing done around the house.

I've also been trying to implement a plan to finish everything I start, and not take on anything new. After a recent crying-in-the-basement jag, I realized that I was saving all of these things for a life I didn't have right now. My basement is full of crap. Not crap to me, but just crap. Magazines, bags, bows, quilting items. It's all things that I won't use soon. I may not use at all. And I lost hubs' Father's Day card. I keep bringing so much stuff in, that the stuff I already have gets pushed out. This goes double for my brain - it's like every new thought pushes an old one out.

So I have decided to take Stacy and Clinton's advice and apply it to my life: dress for the body you have. Live for the life you have. All of my plans, everything I was saving, I can't use right now. Doesn't mean I can't plan, but don't plan and then think that it will happen the very next second - I won't be a housewife with time to make a beouf bourginon tomorrow. But, I can take a gander at the cookbooks I already have (I'm talking to you, Rachel Ray) this weekend. I won't be composting and making my own soil - but I can refill the birdfeeder.

Hopefully, letting go of things I don't use or need will help me to appreciate what I do have and make better use of it. Including the brain cells. And if not? There's always that next step.

You know you're a parent when...

#333 phrases like "don't eat mama!" and "don't eat the puppy!" work their way into your vocabulary.

#334 you now hum "sally the camel" while doing the dishes, and find yourself (still) incensed that your new kids CD actually lists that song as "Alice the camel." the nerve.

All the better to eat you with

We have teeth. Two, to be precise. I first felt them about a week before he was officially nine months, and they have now both popped up and reared their sharp little heads.

It's the two front bottom, which I believe generally make their appearance first. They have turned his "mouth open slobber on eat part of your face" kisses into bite-marks on hubs' nose, lol.

I'm not sure how my kid is that old. Of course some days, I still don't know how I have a kid. This topic was touched upon last night as we were talking about what to do for our anniversary tonight. (Concensus was: stay home, make dinner, sleep. Much needed after a busy weekend!) I was thinking about what we were doing 3 years ago, the night before our wedding, and we both exclaimed about the time that has gone by since we first started dating - 8 years! - and how it doesn't feel like time has gone by at all. Maybe it's because of a small, almost-20lb, wiggly reminder of how far we've come that makes it all the more real, speeding by us as fast as he grows. *sigh*

Ah well, happy anniversary to my wonderful husband! I'm glad we've had the chance to grow together and been blessed with a wonderful baby boy.