Dont cry over spoiled milk

The little man has had the stomach flu since Friday AM. Up until this point we were down to one nursing session a day; right before bed. However, since he has been sick he hasn’t wanted to eat or drink anything. Getting him to drink water has been a struggle.

Friday night I was able to get him to nurse. However, Saturday night I offered the breast to him and looked at me like I was trying to poison him. Sunday morning the same thing. He actually pulled my shirt DOWN and wriggled away. Ouchy to the mommy ego. Sunday night I couldn’t even pull the pacifier from his mouth.

During this time, I suggested to my hubby that I try on the other breast. I had been nursing on the same side/once a day for several months.

My hubby then said to me, in all seriousness– Maybe your milk has spoiled.



Graduation from Babyhood

As parent you are acutely aware of the shifts in your child’s behaviour or abilities. For Elliott, Friday was a marked turning point. It seemed to me that he had made a breakthrough from what I perceived as baby to active toddler.

He has been walking for a month. He still was crawling with frequency, but Friday he didn’t crawl the entire day. He also no longer wanted my help with anything. He was set on doing things himself, and when I offered to help or made the mistake of helping he would get frustrated. He also has started to play independently and imaginatively. To elaborate–he would take a toy truck and make truck sounds while pushing the truck around the house. He did these things singly prior to this, but Friday he started to put all of them together. He also took books from the shelf and sat and read them. Usually he will bring them to me, sign book and then sit down waiting for me to read them to him.

I mentioned his new found independence to hubby, who confirmed my observations on Saturday.
We had been planning on getting him a haircut for several weeks, but I couldn’t bring myself to think that those gorgeous golden curls would be no more. I didn’t want to let go of his babyhood. I didn’t want my little boy to grow up, as if somehow I could prevent it. His long bangs had started to irritate his eyes and he wouldn’t let me cut it. So, we made a decision by default.

Elliott is very sensitive and was very upset while getting his hair cut. So, Dad held him in his lap where he sniffled insecurely. It took a bit for him to recover. Hopefully he isn’t traumatized.

The odd thing about the haircut is that I feel differently about him. I feel like he is now a little boy, and not a baby. And with that comes different feelings about what he is capable of. It is odd timing for sure, since Friday already marked a transition for him. The haircut corroborates and solidifies my feelings.
Later that day, hubby wanted to take him to the pumpkin patch. I didn’t see the value in it,

since he wouldn’t likely remember and we had already bought several pumpkins for the house. Occasionally my nickname is the Enemy of Fun. But, if this picture captures even an ounce of the joy and happiness he felt–then you can see how wrong I was.

He had a wonderful time. Watching him explore brought little tears to my eyes. I felt so much love for him. It is crazy how we can relive so many feelings by watching our children.

When we were driving home from the pumpkin patch, he was sitting in his car seat with his boo bear that his Nana sent him and his sippy cup of water. When I looked back he was kissing his bear and giving him water from his cup. Again, tears of pride and overwhelming love welled up in my throat.

Elliott was afraid of the petting zoo animals. But, was still very curious about them. Notice the handful of hay? He is waiting for them to come close, before he runs away.

The day closed with an early dinner at Soup Plantation. Like his parents, Elliott loves ice cream. I made him and I a bowl of vanilla soft serve to share. But, he wouldn’t eat it from my spoon, and instead wanted to eat it like you would ice cream from a cone. Several times I lifted the bowl to him mouth. Then, I decided he should have his own mini-cone. He was overjoyed.

It was adorable to watch him hold the little cone, lick the ice cream, and then eat the cone. I was emotional watching him, as it was another sign that his babyhood is gone. He doesn’t need his Mommy to help him anymore. Sniffle. I love you and welcome you my little boy, farewell sweet baby boy.

The Five Love Languages

I am slightly embarrassed to say that I have been skimming this book. I say skimming because I have been trying to avoid the religious underpinnings, and go straight for the meat. The gist is that there are 5 languages of love:

1. Words of Affirmation
2. Quality Time
3. Receiving Gifts
4. Acts of Service
5. Physical Touch

Hubby and I have identified our primary love languages. He is a #1 and I am a #4.

The idea is that by examining the way you and you partner display and understand love that you will be able to communicate your commitment and love to one another. What committed couple couldn’t benefit, right?

Bear with me as I am processing this and trying to put it into action. It is a logical idea, but seems somewhat insincere because according to these ‘rules’ for me to understand love, my husband must show me acts of service. And for me to show hubby that I love him, I must show appreciation. It makes sense, but it seems like we will get stuck in a love vortex.

Part of the draw of this theory is that over the years hubby and I have had a couple of conversations (after we recovered from the argument portion) about how we don’t feel loved by the other person. While expressing these feelings it often came down to hubby saying he needed more affirming and positive words. And me saying that I need him to show me love in his actions and commitment to the collective we. Hmm, interesting.

Now, extend this idea to family. If I feel loved by acts of service–then, it makes huge sense why I feel so let down by my family. If 2 love languages were allowed, I think Quality time and Acts of Service would just about sum it up. I have lived in SD for going on 6 years. Some of my family has never been to visit outside of major events like our marriage or the birth of our son (quality time) and they didn’t take an active roll in helping at either event (acts of service). And maybe that is because they don’t understand my love language, nor I theirs.

I have started to practice this idea with hubby. It feels weird for me. It isn’t easy for me to express appreciation to hubby for doing things that I expect (like chores). Which is why it is so important for me to keep working on it. Because if hubby is doing all his chores as a way to make me happy, and I am not acknowledging him and showing him the love he needs then we aren’t doing everything we can to make the other person happy. And that will not make either of us happy!

Ranting ahead

Some things I want to get off my cyber chest are:

I have been suffering from migraines lately. Out of the blue I starting getting vomit inducing, cant see or think straight, certainly cant function headaches. I cant seem to find a cause or a pattern. But, they are occurring at a clip of 4 or so a month. Not enough for meds, but enough to give me pause.

For about 2 years, maybe longer I have been having nightmares. I don’t know what else to call them. While laying in bed on the brink of falling asleep I will experience a feeling of anxiety (although perhaps it is paranoia). It isn’t a physical feeling. It is more like I start thinking about something, most often Lil E. And then I imagine something bad that could or might happen, although highly improbable. Then I get all freaked out and worried about it. Other times, I will start to think about something totally crazy and demented–and it will take over my brain. The only way for me to clear the palate is to open my eyes for a moment. Refocus on reality and then commit to putting it out of my mind. Yuck.

I don’t understand why I weigh 10 pounds less than I did when I got pregnant, yet I still wear the same size clothes. I know that muscle weights more than fat…but come on!

Today was the first day where I thought that maybe I shouldn’t be trying to get pregnant — right now anyway. Life is starting to normalize with Lil E, I am sleeping with regularity and so is he, I feel comfortable in our routine, and I like my job. The economy is stressing me (and most people I know) out, I worry about money, bills, and our household spending. I wonder if we could afford another child. What if our economy keeps getting worse, and money gets tighter. What if I get laid off, or hubby’s company’s starts to tank. My rational mind knows that no matter what we will make it work, but I like to run all of the options through my head just so I feel prepared. Yes, I know that its a false sense of security. But, let me have my fake safety net.

I could stop trying to get pregnant, which is really just a way of thinking about it anyway. And instead, just let nature take its course. If I get pregnant…well, then coolio. If not, I never think about it since it wasn’t something I was trying to do anyway. Kick ass, I love Jedi mind tricks. Especially ones I can play on myself.

Now that I am proof reading this post…It sounds like maybe I am a bit stressed out and that perhaps I am suffering from some anxiety. If I could only get a massage and not feel guilty about spending the money.