My daughter (the bigger one) has a bmi of 18.7. That’s so low it’s barely still in the normal range.
Maybe I shouldn’t worry so about the sugar intake. Maybe.
How?
2 Replies
Category Archives: kids
Milestone! EC.
EC (Elimination Communication) is so lovely. Pretty much it means talking to your baby about their bathroom functions.
This morning her sweetness had a dry diaper when I took her to the changing table. I offered her a chance to sit on the potty and she was excited. So I sat her down and she concentrated hard and went potty. Then she was very excited again.
She’s also super chatty these days and she’s playing with toys! Four months is such an exciting time.
She lights up when she sees me. She likes everyone in our family… but I focus on myself of course. Ha.
tracking exercise and baby
Her sweetness is now three months old. She is smiling way more. I moved the six month clothes out because they are starting to get tight. (We really prefer baby clothing to be slightly baggy for ease of outfit changes.) She’s much more alert and awake. Older siblings are very actively involved with her. They both think she’s great.
According to Fitbit the past 28 days have seen an increase of 74% more miles over the previous 28 days. The fourth trimester is over! Time to move! Now that the fourth is officially over we have a baseline of walking approximately 3 miles a day.
Yes, yes Disneyland.
It was suggested to me that I look a ways out on the Metro line in DC. I found some apartments that seem way more reasonable in price but it’ll mean more walking. If we save about $5,000 over the course of three months on rent but have to walk about 2 miles a day round trip to the station… that’s not all bad. But means we will need to be seriously acclimated to 5+ miles/day in order to have fun and learn well in the museums.
The best day in the past four weeks was 5.5 miles. In that time 86 miles total.
Realistically in DC we will probably go out four days a week and hide at home three days a week cause we are tired. We are like that. I don’t know that we will actually land in the apartment I liked the best today but if I plan around that just a little to mess with math that’s ok. The grocery store is about 3 miles roundtrip. It’s close to the Metro Station. That means that even if we stayed home three days a week…. assuming 5 miles of walking per day is wise. So 35/week and over four weeks that is 140 miles.
Given that I’m going to be doing this with a baby and we don’t use strollers and we are going to be grocery shopping on foot… I’m going to be doing that with 25-40 lbs on my body. Starting this winter.
Noah feels a lot more comfortable with his current fitness level than I do. I’m not ready for that.
Starting this winter. And I haven’t lived in snow since I was seven or eight.
It’ll be an adventure.
I’m getting rid of stuff in batches. Every time it feels shocking because I can get rid of a giant pile and not feel like I’m making a dent. Yet there is more breathing room at the same time. It’s confusing.
I had initially packed all of our fetish clothing. That’s so dumb. Naw. I’ll send it off into the world. Have fun little fetish outfits. Three more boxes to fill instead. That’s better.
How many boxes do I even want? That’s a big question right now…
Processing speed
Sunday was rough for me. Something came up that requires me to set boundaries in ways that make me feel wildly uncomfortable. It maxed out my bandwidth for all boundaries and the day turned into a sobfest as I tried to borrow future spoons to cope.
I’m having this weird feeling of pride because I’m connecting the links in the chain rather quickly for me. There was a thing that genuinely deserves upset and a boundary response like dropping the portcullis. A thing big enough that I’m arranging for adult supervision of the boundary discussion. I need help.
Ok I had to walk around weeping for a day before I could cope with it… but that’s not a long time for me. I’m happy with myself.
On a completely different lighter more hilarious topic. I had a conversation with the kids yesterday about masturbation.
It started out with the word mastication, which I love. I explained how much I love using the word masticate when I talk to teenagers because it is close to the word masturbation and they always twitch in funny ways. My kids laughed as if they got why it was funny… then said “Uhhh what is masturbation?”
I’VE TOLD YOU BEFORE.
I said, “It’s sex with yourself. It’s when you touch your private parts in a private setting.”
“Ohhhhhhhh, that. Oh of course I do that.”
Then my children proceeded to tell me about when they (separately) take the opportunity to go in a room with a locked door for a while. I tried so hard not to blush or look awkward or bug out my eyes. I said, “It sounds like you have figured out how you want to handle this.” The kids nodded and smiled peacefully.
We did not get into any other specifics. I’m good with knowing that you know how to arrange privacy and you know to wash your hands afterwards.
My work here is done. For now.
The meeeeeeeeanest mom evar
I really like the spelling of evar. It gives the word ever the proper whiny intonation.
My kids have been asked to clean up their toys in the back yard a lot over the past few months. If they pick up the toys then our lovely gardener can mow the grass. If there are little land mines every few feet… he can’t.
Guess what the kids didn’t do? That’s right! They didn’t pick up their toys. Now the grass is somewhere around my thigh in height. And there are little toys that could break or break the lawn mower everywhere. Which means the grass can’t be mowed. It has to be pulled by hand.
When my children have done this in the past (refused to clean) I got stuck doing all the pulling. This year… I don’t forking think so. Y’all are big enough.
So they are pulling weeds for five minutes then playing for an hour then pulling weeds for five minutes. They may be out there all weekend. I required clothing that covers all skin and sun block so they don’t burn to a crisp. And right now it is raining a little. They are most put out.
But that grass won’t pick itself. And y’all put us in this situation where a human hand must be involved in every single patch of grass. That makes it your responsibility and not mine. Have fun!
I do bring snacks out to them periodically. I’m not an unfeeling monster.
Grumpy face
For records: sugar and screen time stuff is rough. Kids aren’t keeping agreements and they are driving me batshit.
I am not giving them Easter candy in their baskets it is so bad. I need a line in the sand. This is it.
I am tired of being asked for sugar after *literally* every bite of vegetables. I’m done.
And EC figured out how to sit on their browser history page deleting stuff she isn’t supposed to look at.
Screen time is limited to academics indefinitely because I need to research key logging software. Cause I always wanted to monitor people like this.
Parenting sucks. But I need to pull the boundaries in hard and fast because I’m about to explode and beat someone. (Not really. But screaming mean words isn’t ok either and I’m running low on self control. I need to act like my limits are real.) If they are acting like velociraptors testing the fence to see where the real boundaries are, time to turn the electricity up so they back off.
I need to enforce boundaries and limits when I am 100% in control of myself. I can’t lose my shit and freak out. That’s wrong. I can instead say, “Sugar and screen time are privileges not birthrights. You have lost both.” Cause holy shit that’s true. I asked them this morning if they think they have been keeping agreements. They acknowledge that they haven’t even a little. At least we agree about how things have been going. Sigh.
This would all be easier if I got more god damn sleep.
I’m debating putting the candy in the freezer but I am more likely to make little baskets and send the kids to deliver the baskets to neighbors tomorrow while I hide the eggs for the hunt.
I’m not taking Easter away and they will still get baskets with treats. But no sugar. We need a break.
April will be as close to sugar free as I can manage. Except fruit. That’s not a problem. It’s like me taking a month off of pot to reset my tolerance levels. My kids need the same thing. Noah does caffeine fasts periodically. So we are doing something with our kids that we do as adults to manage our drug usage. (Caffeine, pot and sugar are all drugs we are addicted to. Let’s be real here.)
We aren’t doing this just to make them feel bad. We need a break so we can try again. Attempting to lower usage levels a little has failed. Tolerance breaks are useful.
Waking up
Yesterday the baby clearly smiled at me. That was a “Yay mommy!” face. She calms down when Noah hands her to me and she knows milk is coming. I don’t remember my big kids calming down like this. She really only complains when something specific is wrong like hunger or she needs a diaper change.
I am so happy to get to know her. I wonder if she is going to be as assertive as my big kids. Right now she is so chill that I can barely wrap my head around her. I know I should just be happy and grateful, but I’m baffled wondering how I ended up with a child who is just… relaxed so far. Life is ok. Not much to demand or push for. Everything is just ok.
She is often happy snuggling/sleeping on a big kid for an extended period while I do chores. She is imprinting on all of her people. I don’t feel like the first two wanted to imprint on other people much. Yes, sometimes Noah has to suffer through some fussing and crying to give me a break when she wishes I wouldn’t. But it’s not screaming it’s fussing.
My chores are mostly dishes and laundry at this point. I am getting some help with both (thank you Noah) but I still do the majority of folding the laundry and loading the dishwasher.
Let’s be real here. My big kids are old enough that they are doing the majority of covering for my recovering butt. Speaking of which, hemorrhoids still very present. They can go away now. They make it take forever to wipe up when I poop because I have to use these little medicated pads and gently clean each hemorrhoid. There is no dignity in parenting.
I spent a while looking at how to schedule the stuff we need to do next year. My kids are going to resent it. Oh well! Y’all want to learn stuff. It takes time. You aren’t itty bitty kids any more. Y’all are big and it’s time to move into serious academics. Which… is still only going to be three hours a day. Shush your whining. But PE is going to be a noticeable chunk of our day. Creating windows of time for longer/more intense daily hygiene is more important as we head towards puberty because they are becoming greeeeeeeasy little critters. My kids have gotten weekly baths most of their lives and they haven’t been dirty/gross. Now that puberty is rearing its head… that is not even a little bit sufficient. And ew.
I tell my children that hygiene should be increased in times of increased need. If you are visibly dirty or greasy… it’s time to take more frequent showers. If your face is breaking out like whoa because it is majorly greasy… wash your face more frequently. You don’t have to take a full shower every day. But you are probably at the point of needing to wash your hair twice a week, sometimes three times a week. Wash your face in the sink in between showers. Hi, welcome to puberty.
But I’ve never understood the “take a shower every day” thing. It’s bad for my hair and skin unless I am getting actively dirty every day. I don’t. I don’t produce enough grease for that to be necessary so it seems kind of weird.
I usually bathe 2-3 times a week. That’s a good frequency for me to not smell and I don’t look dirty. I have absolutely known people (usually for job reasons) who need to shower daily and occasionally twice in a day. But it’s not the norm.
I have had a few moms tell me that I’m gross for not bathing my children every day. Oh. Well I make sure they don’t have food on their face or in their hair and I wash their hands all the damn time. Their knees and back don’t get dirty enough to wash every day! Come on now. In the summer I do make them wash their feet in between showers because ew don’t climb in clean sheets with nasty feet.
Why can’t hygiene be applied solely at need?
People are interesting.
As I try to figure out how to get all of the stuff done in a day that the kids and I need to get done… I feel flattened. I can’t imagine trying to add in more. The kids are down to 10 hours a week of unplanned time. Playing used to be their job and it isn’t any more. Growing up sucks. 11 hours a week of academics (it’s shocking how much progress they make in this amount of time.) (And let me tell you, as a former public school teacher… most students don’t get a full 11 hours a week of 1:2 instruction.) 12 hours a week set aside for PE activities because it includes the walk to the farmers market (that we really need to get back to doing weekly) and time set aside for stretching and classes and allll the physical stuff we need to do for health and preparing for a week of constant walking. The kids do a shocking (to me) amount of cross training. It is funny to me that I have ended up being an active person.
I have some good role models.
There are slots for outside time (10 hours) and chores (7 hours). I am mentally going through my list of “where can the kids hurry up and finish what they ‘should’ be doing to squeeze in extra reading time” so I can encourage them towards efficiency so they can get what they want out of the deal too. Given how much exercising we are going to be doing, they are free to bring books out to sit in a chair during outside time. Just get sun on your face. A lot of it will be energetic though. Only 5 hours set aside for screen time. There are other spots where they could add more given how much they are exercising. I am not as anti-screen time when they are really energetic.
Fridays and Saturdays are almost unscheduled though. We have the morning/evening routines and food and that’s it. I think that is wise for us.
I don’t have slots for running errands. Well. That’ll fail right there.
Ok. Rethink this.
Ok. Two hours of the kids playing on Friday they can either come with me to do errands or they can stay home with their dad.
Of course this isn’t Noah’s schedule. Frankly that man is walking on water because he gets a lot done. I’m looking forward to being more physically competent again so I can take some stuff off of his plate. I’m trying to find time for him to rest. He got a couple of hours off last night. I try to let him sleep a night through sometimes.
We are trying to be kind to each other.
This baby is… easy to be around and it means it feels easier to be generous.
I have six more days until I get evaluated by my OB. Then I’m cleared to be a lot more active. Slow walks and only a few chores are getting old. I think this baby will be happy to be in a carrier as I do more to make my body stronger again.
When I leave the bay area I will leave my awesome medical providers. I will need to figure out how to make my body strong enough to withstand less support. And I will need to figure out how to manage my mood with more pain. It’s just going to happen.
Every choice has a constellation of consequences.
And that right there is a poopy diaper. Called to duty.
{milestone} Laughter
Because I have to ask Sarah or Noah things about my older children, let me write down that the day before she turned five weeks old YC started laughing in her sleep. She isn’t social smiling or laughing yet, it’s still a reflex. But it’s really sweet.
In other news… I think we are in a growth spurt. She’s nursing constantly but pulling off my nipple to yell at me that she wants to nurse. No she doesn’t have a soiled diaper. No she doesn’t need to burp. No she doesn’t seem to want anything else but boy howdy is she so darned mad that I am not giving her boobie. When she has my nipple in her mouth.
I quit.
No I don’t. I have years of this shit ahead of me again. But I am slightly frustrated. Given how frothy green her poop is… I suspect she’s being lazy about hind milk and not wanting to draw hard to get it. She wants to switch back and forth to whichever boob is flowing more easily and that’s not good for her. I need to get tough and force her to fully drain a boob before moving on. Do you know how hard it is to try and enforce boundaries with a god damn newborn?! They cry and my resolve melts like butter on a hot griddle. Ok! Whatever you want! Yes dear! I live to serve!
I don’t feel so bad about telling a six or seven month old they need to fully drain a side before moving on. It’s just easier to be stern with a child who can hold their own head up. Being strict with someone who can’t even see you when you sit 3′ away…
That shit takes a lot more resolve than I have. Oh god. I’ll do anything. Just don’t die you tiny fragile thing, There is no such thing as spoiling you. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll pay as much attention to you as you want.
Just tell me, love.
She is nursing as I type. It’s late for us. She’s been having a hard time with lying down in bed for the past couple of nights. She’ll go to sleep in the carrier while we walk. She’ll sleep on the Boppy while I sit in the living room. But the bed just pisses her off. I’m not sure why.
It’s not even because she wants to be on me because for half the night or more in bed she sleeps slung across my chest because nothing else is acceptable.
I had a moment earlier today where I had a chance to crush MC’s spirit or not. I managed to not do so. *pat self on back* MC kinda… lost their grip on YC today. The baby slid off of MC’s legs while they were on the couch. The baby didn’t actually land on the floor because between MC having lightning fast reflexes where they lifted their legs to cushion the fall and me lurching forward to catch the baby… she didn’t even hit her head on the floor. But there was a good second or two where I felt complete panic.
My instant response was to scream that they don’t need to hold the baby again any time soon. As I watched tears well up in their eyes I realized I did that wrong. I fairly immediately tried to take it back. “No. That was the wrong thing for me to say. I’m so sorry. That’s not the right response for you or for her. I was scared and I over reacted. Ok. How about if you sit on the floor to hold her. She is getting very squirmy and that’s scary and dangerous. Both your dad and I have dropped babies. I don’t need to act like you did a worse thing. I’m sorry I screamed. That was wrong of me. Let me help you hold her safely.”
I have absolutely no desire to convince them that a mistake means you are out of chances. That is the wrong way to handle it.
I’m screaming more than I have in years. It’s reflexive. It’s a combination of my nerves feeling like they are being run over a cheese grater (baby screaming is so hard) and sleep deprivation. The last three or four nights have been every two hour wake ups and I’m weary. These reasons are not an excuse and they do not justify me losing control of my volume. I’m trying and failing to keep my shit together.
It’s not even that I’m saying that much mean shit. It’s that I’m saying things like “I can’t hear you” at ridiculous volumes. I’m really struggling with the screaming. And feeling touched out.
I went and got ear plugs for tonight’s fussy period. My head hurts so much. I wouldn’t trade this for the world… it’s hard but worth it. Getting through this together helps build our bond. Yes I will stay with you through the hard parts.
I’m alternating between feeling like I’m doing a good job because I’m asking Noah and the big kids to help me with stuff and I feel like I’m a horrible person because I’m so lazy and demanding, I just can’t win.
H’okay. That’s a very poopy diaper I need to change. Whoo.
Such a lovely pediatrician.
I picked our pediatrician based on her doing her intensive college research project on intergenerational patterns of abuse. She’s a neat lady. We had a follow up conversation about CPS (and the original incident last summer) and her attitude was absolutely inspirational. One of my bigger children was with me and I think the doctor’s attitude was really helpful to our continued processing.
The doctor made it very clear that everyone makes mistakes and this was just a mistake. How do you find out what kind of person you want to be if you never cross the line into being someone you don’t want to be?
I love this doctor.
Turns out the doctor had already gone over to the hospital and said, “Who might have turned in my patient’s mother for pot! That’s not cool!” and the staff over there was confused because that is not their policy. Given that the CPS visit turned out to not be about pot… I feel a little sad about not trusting them more. But this process is hard. Everyone did their job well and appropriately and absolutely everyone involved was respectful towards me and my family. I’m glad CPS shows up to ask the questions they asked us.
So yeah. Such a lovely doctor. I’m grateful for her.
Also, Youngest Child is growing like whoa. At her 2 day old visit she had dropped down to 7 lbs 14 oz. At her one month visit she’s up to 9 lbs 4oz. 26oz in 30 days. Sounds great to me. Her height went from 20″ to 22″. Around 50% for weight, 90% for height.
I find it kind of fascinating that all of my children are so tall. They have all been 75% + for their entire lives with the younger two being 90%+. Neither Noah nor I are that tall. It seems… surprising to me. Noah is dead flipping average for a man. I am an inch taller than “average” for a woman. Why are my kids like the jolly green giant?!
Must be all the damn vegetables. I wonder if I would have been taller if I had eaten better as a child.
I asked about the icy cold hands at night. Doctor said that at this stage she just hasn’t figured out circulation and as long as her core is warm, don’t stress. Put sleeves on her and don’t fret. Ok. I’ve been keeping her in sleeves. Hahahaha on the not fretting part.
She’s my tiny little externalized beating heart. I worry about her.
She barely cried for a few seconds at her shot today. I was impressed. It wasn’t a minute of crying. She just went to sleep because I had been tormenting her by keeping her awake. She hadn’t been crying about the tormenting awakeness. She just grunted at me and whined a little, like she does.
I noticed that I didn’t write that much down about MC’s milestones. I think that a lot of that choice was because I go through these periods of feeling embarrassed about my focus on my children. I know that nonbreeders really don’t give a shit about the minutiae of my children. I know that hearing people talk about their kids is boring. (I can tell my eyes gloss over sometimes when people tell me about their kids… it’s ok to not be fascinated by my children…) But then I don’t remember what month they started using two word phrases and I’m fucking mad at myself for feeling self conscious and not writing it down.
I need to not care what you don’t want to hear about because this data collection spot is useful and I need to take advantage of it.
Speaking of which, MC’s hair now reaches their waist because they really feel inspired by Rose’s hair. They want hair that goes to at least their butt. Sure.
The baby is tiny and vigorous and growing and doing all the important mammal skills.
Oh! Yesterday we had a comedy show diaper change. I was reminded of the fact that I have a huge box of puppy pads. Since the baby is so prolific about emptying the pipes while on the changing table and we are a little sad about having to deal with cleaning up the whole shebang every day… Hey I can solve a problem.
So big sister asked to change a diaper. I asked her to bring a pad, diaper, and wipes to the floor in the living room so it would be a little less hazardous.
This turned into a hilarious experience involving a lot of pulling the baby off the spreading/growing pee puddles and dragging her out of the piles of poop she wanted to kick and play with. It was nice having two kids to help with that experience. It really was fun to watch. Big sister did all the important bits and I gave helpful/snarky advice.
We all got to have a fun time. The baby was so relaxed and mellow through the whole thing. She just blinked up at us like, “What? Y’all act like clearing the pipes is something to fuss about…”
Her head has already expanded by 3/4″. Terrifying noggin.
We are getting in the books for next academic year. Why does this process excite me so much?
Don’t argue, just do what you do.
Today we have our one month pediatrician visit. My baby will be probably have some vaccine shots. Why? Because I believe in science? No. Because there is a preponderance of evidence that this will keep my kid alive and I went through a fuck ton of effort to make her so she’d better fucking stay alive.
I’m just saying.
My kid horrified me the other day. We were discussing how we really don’t want the baby to die so we should take some steps. (It didn’t start out as a weird seeming conversation…) Then my kid said, “Yeah we really don’t want to go through nine months of pregnancy again so this kid had better live.”
My eyes were as wide as dinner plates. Whoa. Ok then.
They aren’t wrong. But that’s not really all I mean. I’m already invested in this girl. I like her. It’s not just the investment cost…
Parenting is weird.
An evil kind of magic.
I don’t know what it is… but this child likes to empty the pipes in big volleys. We hear a big poop (she’s so loud) and we wait 1-5 minutes before getting up to go to the bathroom because there is always more. Sometimes we stand at the changing table and get her undressed in slow motion because more is coming.
We wait for the second big volley. It arrives. Ok. We’ll try changing you.
We get the diaper off.
I swear to cheese at least once a day she pees on our hands as we are putting the new diaper up to her. It always lands on the new diaper. Ok, so there’s two diapers and a full change of the changing table so far.
We get her cleaned up (a task) then get a fresh diaper on her then set her on the floor. Proceed to change the cover and everything on the changing table. Get everything ready to go again. Poor Noah usually has this festivity rain down on him (ewwww) while he is changing the baby. I get it too though…
Pick her up and put her back on the changing table and start the process of getting dressed again. Finish. Pick up the baby.
She poops again.
This. Is. Daily. (or almost daily. It’s freakin constant feeling.)
I do not remember my first children being prolific in this manner but it is hilarious as it frustrates me.
Every. Single. Day we have a diaper change that involves a minimum of three diapers. Sometimes she gets to a fourth diaper in a half an hour period without me leaving the bathroom.
Given that when she was born we had some concerns about kidney function I will choose to just be grateful that all the plumbing works so well.
Oh, and every single time she gets put on the changing table she instantly spits up and soaks the entire front of her clothes and creates a puddle around her head.
Cheers.
Hilarity
Yesterday I was gazing in adoration at the baby, like I do, and I was talking to her about how much I am looking forward to getting to know her. She had one of those frowny moments (oh she has a good scowl in the making… the lines between her eyebrows are already etched) and I said, “And with a frown like that I hope you are going to be judgy as shit! I could use some company.”
She opened her eyes from a dead sleep to side eye me, glare for a few seconds, then she relaxed back into sleep.
Oh I can’t wait until you can talk. This will be so much fun.
smks: hug edition
I haven’t used Shit My Kids Say in a while.
Yesterday my big girl asked me what I want for Mother’s Day. We are planners in this house. I told her that what I wanted was to be a mother. She squinched up her face at me. She asked me what I want to get. I said hugs and kisses.
She sighed and said, “We give you hugs and kisses every day. They aren’t special.”
This is one of those moments where my heart isn’t sure how to respond. Wow. I can’t imagine having that kind of hubris about physical affection. It is just so expected and standard that it isn’t special? I’m still grateful for every single day of morning snuggles. I don’t take it for granted. Some day my kids won’t be little and they won’t want to start every single day with touching me. I need to appreciate the fuck out of this while I have it.
And my daughter… she just can’t perceive a future where things might change or be different. Being loved is just… life for her.
On one hand I feel like I have done something wrong by not teaching her to value this more. On the other hand… I taught her that love is so plentiful and common and constant that you should expect it every single day.
I did that. Noah certainly helped and I don’t denigrate that. But…. I did that. Noah would have skipped days. Noah wasn’t with us on the road trip. Noah has absolutely filled in the gaps when I wasn’t available (like my Alaska trip) but he wasn’t the one who created the absolute assumption that the kids would be loved on daily. Partially because back when he worked out of the house things were just more catch as catch can. I think he could provide it now.
My kids can’t imagine a world where they feel anything for me other than complete adoration.
I did that. Even on days when I was pissed at them. Even on days when they were grounded or they received some punishment that infuriated them. They know with all of their heart that they can’t be so bad that I will stop loving them and hugging them.
I did that.
This ache I feel inside about how I will never be good enough to deserve being loved? It is a foreign language to them. They can’t imagine having this feeling.
I did that.
I’m so excited about this third journey through motherhood. What will it be like to parent a baby and a toddler when I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I can dig deep and find the patience to do this right. The first two times I was so riddled with self-doubt. I was always afraid that I was going to absolutely fail them and be their monster instead of their mother. Instead my kids have no desire to be away from me and they think that spending their days with me is the absolute best way they can spend their time.
I don’t know for sure that my third kid will end up liking me as much. But I no longer fear that I will completely fail them. Maybe we will end up having non-compatible personalities. I feel pretty ok about our ability to figure that out.
We have already figured out a lot of things together and I don’t see that trend slowing down.
We finally negotiated food stuff yesterday. The kids were… surprisingly plucky about it. They were almost delighted to decide some of their own restrictions. Like, we are cutting back on how often we have dessert and sweet breakfast because the kids can admit that we have assigned “sweets” 6 days a week and we get random treats and… that’s too much. That means sugar is not a sometimes food it is… the food we eat and that’s bad for us. And when they get to listing off the fruits and vegetables they like to eat… it doesn’t sound so bad. They have plenty of stuff they like to eat.
We agreed to a pattern of eating and they said they will try to manage it for themselves without parents having to police it. Breakfast and dessert we should each try to have a piece of fruit so we feel like we are getting the sweet burst we like to have. For lunch kids are going to try to have two vegetable servings and for dinner we will try for one vegetable serving. I know that isn’t a lot in the scheme of things. But the kids trying to be responsible for eating their vegetables without reminding is kind of new for us.
I’m really tired of asking them every day what they have eaten and if they have gotten enough food groups. I just… I need a break. So we agreed to a pattern of eating that won’t require as much thought on anyone’s part or as much negotiation on my part. They said this is how they want to manage their dietary needs. Other snacks should lean heavily towards protein. We have a great many options in our house.
We’ll see how long this negotiation lasts. *sigh*
If I got a month of not having to nag I’d be happy.
Support is amazing.
There’s a thing going on with my child that I haven’t written much about because it isn’t my story to tell and I’m worried about their boundaries. But I want to express gratitude for part of it in my records so that in the future when I feel like stuff is hopeless I will have to acknowledge that hope does exist.
That thing that happened last summer. Between my big kids. The thing that wasn’t cool and one kid ended up feeling upset but not permanently wounded and another kid ended up feeling like they are a monster in training.
My child isn’t a monster. But a serious mistake was made and learning from it and growing past it are part of life’s difficult process.
We’ve been struggling a lot with the growing past it part. Kiddo is still feeling like they are bad and there is no redemption for them. Dude. There’s so little in this life that cannot be redeemed. Especially something you do as an under ten year old child. That’s just… life… Just about all of us fuck up. How do you internalize that and integrate it and become a better person?
That’s what life is? I think?
But the support I am giving my kid is insufficient. I reached out. I emailed my shrink, the kid shrink, our family shrink and I said, “I don’t know how to help my kid through this. I am failing them and that means we need to find new tools because it is not ok to fail them on this topic.”
I feel so grateful that we have these folks in our life. Hey L, you recommended a great shrink for me! And they have been able to recommend a whole string of useful people! This has been the best therapy rec of my life! Gosh I owe you for this.
So the three therapists talked to one another. They came up with a couple of layers of strategies and they emailed back. They are going to help us as a family create a ritual to release the shame. We are so woo and this absolutely right up our alley.
I feel overwhelmed with gratitude that I found support folks to help my family learn how to grow together towards health and love without shame.
We are so fucking lucky.
So that’s what it takes.
We have now heard our baby scream like someone was yanking her finger nails off. It happened when she spit up in her sleep and a bunch of it went up her nose. She screamed like she was being murdered until I went and got the nose sucker thing (a Frida… not the bulb thing) and sucked all the spit up out of her nose.
Then she went back to sleep.
Oh.
Yeah. Now I understand why P&A used to say that EC was a high needs baby. If my first child had been this mellow we would have had more kids.
Beeee yourself
Eldest Child wanted to sleep with my nipple in her mouth at all times. Middle Child wanted to nurse enough to not be starving and then get that dang boob out of their face. Youngest Child wants to nurse probably slightly past satiation so that she has a good vomit towards the end but then she wants to sleep with the nipple against her lips in case she wants it later. If the nipple moves away she is terribly upset.
EC could not be put down. MC liked being left alone to look around a room a little. YC mostly wants to be held but if you put her down for a few minutes she’s ok with it and she doesn’t start indicating that she’s lonely until I’ve been gone 5-10 minutes.
EC and MC both screamed in the car as if we were lying them on a bed of nails. YC… is mostly chill unless she got into the car hungry.
EC was the most violently anti-diaper changes; she screamed hysterically through every diaper change for months. MC didn’t like them but didn’t cry 100% of the time. YC sometimes gets annoyed with being cold and complains about that but mostly she’s thrilled to get poop taken off her and she is quiet and cooperative.
Noah points out that this baby is the least… fussed post birth and she’s the only birth where I didn’t feel traumatized.
It is wonderful to me that I can’t see my family or Noah’s family in YC’s face the way I can in EC or MC. She is so completely and totally her own person. YC has a few facial expressions in common with EC (oh they have a mighty pirate YARRRRRRR face) and her face shape is suggestive of EC’s face… but very different. My Youngest Child looks like herself and that’s it.
This child seems so relaxed and mellow. She seems happy and like she’s getting exactly what she needs. I don’t feel as anxious and on the verge of ruining her life/killing her as I did with the older kids. She feels so fragile, but she also seems happy and sturdy. I think she feels fragile because I have acclimated to big kids and the difference is striking.
My milk is fully in. I’m at my pre-pregnancy weight (I’M EATING EVERYTHING THAT ISN’T NAILED DOWN). My house is shockingly tidy. My kids have not fallen behind on school work. I’m doing 1-3ish hours of chores a day and mostly resting.
I’m doing “the right things”. I’m a little bored because sitting this still is not my favorite. I think that today I will be up for trying another walk. I tried making breakfast on day three and squatting to get stuff out of the bottom of the fridge fucking hurt so bad I wanted to scream so I didn’t try a walk yesterday or day three. I’m on day five now.
It’s amazing that she’s only been here five days. I like her so much.
I think YC will be fully out of newborn size by the time she is ten days old. I can barely sorta get it on her now.
I am back to the point where I’m looking at all of my clothes and thinking, “How much boob access does this have?” I have multiple years in front of me where all of my clothes need to be picked based on access to my nipples. This is kind of hilarious to me. Given our plans in this time period I’m a little confused as to how much of this I should box up for “some day” and how much I should just pass along.
I already took all of my maternity stuff out and put it in bags to donate. I could barely wear it pregnant because I never got that big and I’m already shrunk down to about the middle of my size range. I’m mushy and I have extra skin, but my girth is not anywhere near as big as I am sometimes without being pregnant so my clothes are fitting fairly normally already.
My boobs are ridiculous. Rock hard and almost the size of EC’s skull. Which is disturbing because she’s almost 10 and has an adult sized head. YC’s skull looks tiny and insignificant next to my mighty tits. This makes me giggle so much. Bodies are weird. I miss tandem nursing right now. Having a big kid to relieve all the pain of engorgement was a gift.
Yesterday I hit the wall of “Oh my god every single piece of me is in pain. Ow Ow Fucking Ow.”
Blacksheep followed up on me asking her how she psyches herself up to be bad ass. She said that part of it is she never says to herself that she can’t do something.
I really do aspire to be as bad ass as this woman someday.
But the thing is… I have limits. I have physical, emotional, and mental limits. There are things I can’t do.
That’s hard. I think that my limits are often pretty extreme… there are many ways in which my limits greatly exceed “average” so folks are confused by the vehemence of my expression of limits. Mostly… I am not what people think of when they think “disabled” which is completely legit.
My limits move around based on a lot of factors. When I did the elimination diet from hell my body was so sick. I could not do a fraction of what I normally can. It was rough. I go through periods where I have no energy or ability to think and I essentially shut down. I plan around these things and try to avoid hitting the wall so that I fail people.
I think that I am so certain and defensive of my limits because I’m well aware of how often I could fail people if I were more casual about how I observe my boundaries. If I didn’t watch my limits like a hawk I would let people down and I really don’t want to. I have so much to give and then I’m done and I don’t want someone standing around needing me to continue or they will fail too. That’s not fair.
So I am adamant and fierce about my boundaries because if I don’t then I will hurt people. I know where I will fail and I identify that point and I do my best to avoid it. I know how to work me until I am absolutely spent… but I got through the necessary bits.
So when it comes to talking myself into doing something hard… I have to look at the whole picture before I decide if I can or can’t do something. There are millions of things I could do if I was supported properly and they were all I was doing. Can I do those things within the structure and framework of my life given my other obligations? That’s a harder question. The calculus is intense.
So as much as I admire and look up to the idea of seeing yourself as just so fucking competent it isn’t in question… I’m pretty sure that will always be aspirational for me. There are too many ways I fail for me to have such hubris. (I’m not saying it is hubris for someone else… I’m talking about my failings here.)
I am really enjoying how much mothering feels like something I can do even though it is hard and draining and demanding. Mothering really kind of sucks as a job. It’s painful and often not that rewarding moment by moment.
But I get to look at my glorious children and know that I did that. I made them from scratch and then I fed their bodies and nurtured their minds and their spirits. I don’t think that mothering is the best task for everyone. I don’t think it should be a mandatory part of anyone’s life. But I want it to be part of my life and I want to be good at it.
And I am.
Normal
On one hand, I worry about how much sleep I’m getting. On the other hand… I’m actually getting a fairly normal amount of sleep for me when I am unmedicated at night. This is what my body… does.
There is this belief that you must get a “reasonable” amount of sleep or you can’t be healthy. I believe it is true… to a point. Do you know how grateful I have been to have doctors start telling me that my sleep stuff is probably related to a combination of ADHD (I burn more energy with less need for rest than average) and PTSD hypervigilance. I probably don’t NEED as much sleep as other people. Seven hours is pretty average for me with heavy sleep meds.
So getting 3-5 hours is low but… not scary low for me?
One of my favorite parts of giving birth is my horrifying anxiety just… lifts. I have a little anxiety about my babies but not a lot. Mostly I feel competent in a way I rarely feel in life. I can’t sit around like a queen giving orders when I’m pregnant but I don’t hesitate postpartum. Bring me that. Fetch the other thing. Go do this chore. No problem!
I will sit here and hold my baby and somehow manage to still be wildly productive because my mind feels so thrilled to be doing what it is doing.
I love my baby. She is perfect. If she weren’t canonically perfect she would be perfect to me. I’m not scared of my children having problems. I have problems. We cope.
Like, we get to take her to Stanford for an ultrasound for her kidney because stuff wasn’t perfect at birth. I don’t care. Whatever I have to do for her will get done. She is my baby.
If I have to blow things up to take care of her I will. If I have to mow someone down because they are blocking something I need for her… I won’t flinch.
My children motivate me in a way nothing else on this earth ever has or ever will. I will find a way to change for my children. I will become whatever they need from me. It doesn’t matter if it is hard or if it hurts. I brought you into this world. I owe you. I owe you everything.
I don’t mean “everything” like every class or toy or treat you want. Boundaries make healthy people. But I owe you my life. I owe you my sanity. I owe you my need to get up in the morning and try again.
Apparently in our house we now have a Sissy and a Sibby. (Sister/Sibling) This is… making me cry in a nice way. My big kids are so happy about the baby they are about to burst.
After the next diaper change I’m starting a load of diaper laundry. This makes me weirdly very happy. Let the next cycle begin. I am so ready. I am ready to take care of you and do what you need. You are worth all the work I could possibly put into you and more. I will give you what I have. It will fall short of your needs because life is like that. Luckily you have a daddy who loves you to distraction. And you have a Sissy and a Sibby who want to take care of you when I can’t do everything.
You, my lovely daughter, are going to be ok. We will make sure of it.
My milk hasn’t fully come in yet, but my boobs are sweeeeeelling. It’s hilarious and painful because my boobs are already getting to that point where my nipples are hard for a newborn to manage. Overwhelmed by boob is a hilarious facial expression. By later today my boobs will dwarf her head. Ha.
Last night I swaddled the baby super well and gave her to Noah. I went to bed a few minutes before 8. I got up for the day at 2:30 for the second feeding (the first feeding was around 11, I think?). Amusingly… that’s barely short of sleep for me. I hope Noah will sleep in. If I get up and get breakfast for the kids, this may be a fairly good pattern for a couple of weeks. I get a solid chunk of sleep for the first shift then Noah gets to sleep.
We’ll see what normal we find.
Third time’s the charm.
I have said for ten years that any amount of labor time under 24 hours would be easy. I was right! 21 hours were fine.
First: this could not possibly have gone so well without our wonderfully kind friend who moved in for a week so that when I had a full day of contractions and they petered out I had no extra stress about feeling guilty about prodromal labor. I got to ride the waves and take whatever experience. It was a gift. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
My official labor got going around 8:30am on Monday. My contractions built in intensity and regularity all day. I went in around 7pm because my contractions were about 5 minutes apart and a minute long and consistently more than 10/hour. Mostly I was fretful because she had slowed her moving down and I was worried. It’s so hard not being able to see if the baby inside of you is ok.
I got to the hospital 3cm dilated (which isn’t that much and they could have sent me home) and 90% effaced with a bulging water sack. They wanted me to stay. Around 10:30ish they started Pitocin. The epidural was started around 11. Then I went to sleep. I was checked at some point. I was woken up/checked again around 4. During the 4am check the doctor accidentally broke my water bag because whoops it was in the way. At first she said 8cm. Then a minute later she declared me complete and instantly there were six extra people, lots of lights, and a whole bunch of beeping machines.
When my water was broken my blood pressure and her heart rate dropped dramatically. I was put on oxygen instantly. They started IV meds to support the baby.
Between 4:30ish and 5 I was in position and they started encouraging me towards pushing. Another moment of intense gratitude: my friend’s mom came to the hospital with us around 10pm. She was there talking and being supportive whenever I needed her. Her voice did sound above the crowd to give encouragement and feedback.
I might actually send out thank you cards. I’m really in awe of how people showed up for me.
The nurses also did a good job of giving feedback and support. But Ma’s voice was louder and more insistent.
Noah did a wonderful job of supporting me this time. He kept his face soft and loving the whole time. No grimacing at my pain. Well done, fantastic husband.
Ze baby emerged at 5:28am. I didn’t tear or get a skid mark or nothing. I am shocked by how relatively comfortable my external genitalia feel. I’m sore but it’s not bad. Internally the continued contractions to get my uterus back to size suuuuuuuuuuck. And why don’t I take 400mg of Ibuprofen three times a day and I wont have pain, right?! Oh man.
Several folks, including the lactation consultant, asked me about my THC usage. We clarified that I don’t smoke it basically at all (inhaling it is one of the most dangerous steps–we know there are problems from breathing smoke) and I went into details about why I use it and what I have replaced with it and why my medical team thinks this is the best choice for me. I was rather stunned by the extent of support I received. Most folks were like, “You are clearly very educated on this topic and you are making the best choice for your body. Alright. Excellent.” My pain management doctor telling me that my next line is Oxycontin and Ativan really helps. No one wants me on those meds. Definitely not when I’m breeding/feeding a kid.
I didn’t find out till we got home that one pediatrician had a judgy conversation with Noah about my THC when I was out of the room. I’m tempted to follow up on that because it might be a HIPAA violation for her to discuss my medication without me present and that kind of bugs me. What if I had been using birth control behind my husband’s back and she just wanted to mention that it might impact my baby and I am going to go home and get in trouble? You don’t report on other peoples medical care when they are not present. That shit’s not cool.
What if my husband didn’t approve but it was still the best mediation option and now he is going to make my life a living hell? That’s very realistic.
Anyway.
The baby feels slightly more fragile to me than my previous kids. Specifically: she’s having trouble with reflux. Her first whole night of life I barely slept because she would spit up, fill her mouth with fluid, and be unable to do anything about it. She couldn’t move her head to let it fall out and she couldn’t swallow it. So I spent a lot of time flipping her over and clearing her mouth. The lactation consultant agreed that putting her in the bassinet would be stupid. She needed to be up against my body with me paranoid and watching her. It was a festive/non-restful/wonderful night. Oh, I sent Noah home so he could sleep because otherwise we would both be exhausted and useless.
8:30am-5:30am. 21 hours. It was great. The first day of hospital recovery was lovely.
She was 20.5″ long (so .5″ shorter than the two older kids) and 8lbs 9oz. So heavier than both siblings, who were 8lbs and 8lbs 4 oz. I am steadily gaining 4ish oz per kid and that’s a great time to stop. Ha.
It took us till 1pm to secure check out because the hospital kind of wanted me to stay an extra night. But I got shifted from the maternity section to the pediatrics section and I kind of fell out of the “we will pay a lot of attention to you” rotation and that was difficult for me. I didn’t feel good about calling my nurse all the time to get the same care I had previously gotten for existing. So I didn’t drink or eat almost at all the second day in the hospital because she wasn’t offering anymore.
That was suboptimal. I came home and scarfed a big bag of salami because I needed protein before I killed someone.
Our friend went home last night. Her dog was experiencing a lot of stress from the new rules with a baby. My house had already been hard because there were more rules than usual and it was just not fair to keep cracking down on her. I am so so so so so so grateful my friend stayed as long as she did. The dog’s behavior was great. She never did anything inappropriate. She was just done with the restrictions. I would have flipped out long before she did. Such a good girl.
I tried to tell Noah to watch the baby and let me sleep in between nursing last night. Ha. That uhhh… didn’t work very well. He did a 7.5 hour shift and I probably got 1.5-2 hours of sleep. Sigh. It’ll be ok. I will sleep today.
It is fascinating to me how excited and complete I feel. I am so happy I get to learn about this wonderful daughter. She gets cold! Like me! She shivers a lot. She needs a fair bit of bundling in our frigid California weather. Ha. I really can’t tell who she looks like yet. She looks like a whole new person and it is so neato. She’s beautiful and I feel completely overwhelmed with gratitude that I get to keep her and take care of her. She is my responsibility. I am allowed to love her with my whole heart.
I can’t express what that means to me.
I don’t feel sad about wanting more children. I feel like I am at my limit emotionally and physically. This is my family. This is what I want/wanted. In the future I will have the spoons to foster, but I don’t think I will ever take on a baby again. This is my journey.
I feel so lucky.
Big kids are ecstatic. They are snuggling her and talking to her and trying to learn how to be helpful. It will be a process and I’m glad to be on it with them.
I get to have two daughters and a non-binary kid. I get to have a husband who thinks I am the best thing since sliced bread. I get to have friends who show up to help me and support me through complications and challenges. I get to have a home I am allowed to alter and be safe in however I want. I get to have healthy meat and vegetables every day so that my body achieves a level of functioning I didn’t believe possible for me.
I can’t believe this is my life. I am one of the luckiest people ever born. I have so much. I am so grateful.
I am glad I am still alive for this feeling.
Ze baby has already had 8, maybe 9 poopy diapers and 2 or 3 wet diapers. I’m getting confused already. This is a great sign though. Her digestion is working. Her kidneys are starting to function as we hoped. We have a pediatrician check up in about 6 hours.
This is going as well as something can go. I am eternally grateful.
Random note: to the best of my knowledge my child is the only person in the entire world with her legal first/last name combo. I will do my best to never put it on the internet for her. That will happen when she chooses.
I want to remember this.
Before I get into the kid situation, I want to mention how much I appreciate computer problems that can be fixed with rebooting. Thanks, Noah.
I want to record that my children have been fantastically disobedient for the past few weeks. They told me they were doing academics and instead they have been watching stupid videos on youtube.
This is worthy of recording for a few reasons. 1) They liiiiiiiiiiiiiied more than they have ever lied to me before. This is a pretty epic trust violation between us. 2) They have been lying about the work they are doing and asking for points for doing work they aren’t doing. While also spending lots of time on the screen they aren’t paying for. Double whammy of theft of points. 3) I feel like this is an important milestone in them testing the boundaries between their autonomy and me. 4) I didn’t completely flip out. The kids said I didn’t even scream and I’m hella proud of myself. EC said I yelled but in a way she felt was completely fair and appropriate.
Because I am not going to try and equalize the point issue I told them that this will be handled on a couple of levels. First: they lost a lot of trust on the screen front. They now have to take turns being on the computer so that one kid at a time can sit at the kitchen table with no headphones so that I can verify that they are doing what they say. I am not sure how long this will go on. Noah proposes that we install blocking/tracking software and gosh that sounds like work to me right now.
MC did not do this as flagrantly nor for as many weeks/months (I can tell this issue goes back as far as the browser history goes… I don’t know for sure how much longer EC has been pulling this). MC has participated for at least the last week or two watching over ECs shoulder… but I don’t think they pushed their luck as far as EC pushed hers.
So EC is going to be weeding my garden for me. I told her that because she effectively “stole” bonus screen time (many many many hours of it) AND she has been claiming to do academics while not actually doing it… she gets to do work for me. It just seems fair. She is so freaking happy that I’m not freaking out at her or screaming or flying off the handle that she is excited and eager to take on this task. She didn’t argue for .1 second. That will be an hour a day of work until she finishes the yard. Based on previous years of effort I think that means she’s going to be weeding the garden for an hour a day for almost a month. I don’t feel bad at all. When she complains (which will come at some point) I will cheerfully say, “So how good does lying to me feel?”
She also has to do extra academic time every day to make up for the lost time. Because seriously dude… you do need to spend time learning. Not cool.
I told her that in a twisted, awful way I’m sorta glad she did this. She has always been such a dedicated little rule follower that I worry that she is never able to over ride people bossing her. I told her that at some point in the future… she is going to literally need to over rule me and lie to me. I am going to be wrong about something and she is going to need to suck up her courage and defy me. I’m glad to see she can even though I think this was not a worthwhile time to engage in this action.
She agreed that this probably wasn’t worth it because her stomach has been hurting. But in the future… yeah she agrees that it is good that she knows she can do what she wants to do even when I don’t like it.
So another fucking opportunity for growth. For both of us.
I feel really amused by the fact that I am really glad she finally found the strength to stand up to me. That’s awesome. But I’m not going to harp on that part very long in front of her…
Classes (scripts & routines)
At this point we have a fairly full class schedule for the kids. Some of the information for this post will be in a hard copy in the house and I will not be sharing that data with the internet. (Like the addresses of where we go for classes and such.)
All of the classes that the kids are currently in are within 4 miles of our house and you can drive there on city streets. No freeway driving is required.
Mondays both children have Tae Kwon Do at 3:45. It’s a 45 minute class. I often drop the kids off and go home for half an hour of quiet but it will probably be easier for you to just hang out in the van with B while the kids are doing their thing.
Tuesdays both children have Tae Kwon Do at 5:15. It’s another 45 minute class. Same location as Mondays.
Wednesdays both children have a swimming class at 1pm. It’s only a 30 minute class so I usually hang out in the van or in the waiting room watching the class. EC has been getting herself out of the pool and coming out to greet parents for a while. MC is just restarting swimming so they have less of a routine but we will talk about this over the next few weeks and EC is there to help. Right now the kids might have a cooking class at a separate location at 4:30 but as of last week there was no one but my kids signed up for the class and it is probably going to be cancelled. Bummer.
Thursdays only MC has a gymnastics class at 4pm. It’s an hour long class. I drop them off and go home because I don’t like waiting there. But you are free to do whatever works for you.
Fridays the kids have chess club! It’s at 4:30 and it runs for an hour. This one is right next to a nice park and B might enjoy hanging out for the time. This might be the class that is physically furthest from the house but still not so far it is a big deal in my mind.
Saturdays there is another Tae Kwon Do class at 11:15. This one is an hour long instead of 45 minutes.
The kids have other appointments but they are medical/therapy and all of their service providers are well prepped on the pregnancy situation and they understand that the kids will be missing appointments. So I don’t think any of those will be dropped in your lap.
I think this is all the driving that might be asked of you. We fully understand that if you don’t feel good or if you are dizzy or if you just don’t feel like it… the kids can go ahead and miss any of these classes and there isn’t really a penalty. I’m just letting you know what the kids are used to doing so that if you are feeling up for it, this is their routine. Do your best and it will all be fine. If the kids are still alive and well at the end of my labor we’ll figure everything else out.
Realistically if the kids did no school work and ditched all of their classes for a week… it wouldn’t matter in the long run. Make ups are easy to do. I fucking love home schooling.