Remembering September

Image Source

Gee golly this month has gone by so quickly...it is hard to believe that Saturday will be October 1st!  September has always been one of my all time favorite months. A gold star in my book. This month receives its accolade for a number of reasons.  It is the teaser to that wonderful fall crisp air,  it is the month that Garrett proposed to me (in an apple orchard), and "picking" is in full effect.  

Taken right after he proposed in 2008

Pick apples, pick pears, pick pumpkins....oh how I am in heaven.  Every year when September rolls around I am in full force "orchard mode." Garrett used to be dumbfounded that I could be so happy picking fruit off of trees. I couldn't think of a better way to spend a beautiful day! I love moseying around rolling hills of hundreds of trees, breathing in fresh air, and searching for the best apples hidden amongst the branches (while stuffing my face at the same time).  I will admit I always end up eating at least 6 apples in 2 hours... if I were anywhere else other than an orchard I would be appalled.  We have been going to the same orchard for about 3 years now.  The Bean (a.k.a Lyla) has been there twice and she is only 7 months old.

Me and the Bean at the orchard 2010 :)

As soon as the orchard opened this month we were there! I couldn't wait to take Lyla apple picking.  It is a lot harder picking apples when you have an extra 20lbs strapped to the front of you...but it made me feel better about eating the 6 apples (and cider donuts).

Apple fun 2011

The first apple picked and the first bite!

Lyla's first taste!

 
I usually reserve pumpkin picking for October. It makes sense, right?  We have, however, already attempted our first corn maze with her. 

Totally lost

Needless to say we ultimately ended up sneaking to the finish, because a hungry baby needs food! Well... Mommy and Daddy were hungry too :)  We are determined to make it to the finish (legitimately) one day. I will miss you September, but I will see you again next year!

Finally Friday: Confessions

Image Source

There is always a sense of predictability when dealing with a conversation between two mothers.  The number one question that always slips its way into conversation is, "Is she/he sleeping through the night?" In most cases, the mother eager to ask this question is the one with the sleeping baby.  Go figure.

Last week my girlfriend and I were playing catch up over the phone. We are both currently stay at home moms and our kids are only a few months apart in age.  After a few good laughs we somehow land on the subject of sleep...or lack thereof.  She reveals to me that her son has had trouble sleeping through the night, and that the sleepless nights are starting to take a toll on her.  I sense her waiting for my reaction and I chime in immediately, "Don't worry, Lyla doesn't sleep through the night either so we are on the same page."  Instantly I feel a huge sense of relief from the other side of the phone. It was almost comparable to when someone holds their breath waiting for something and then lets it all out at once.  "Really?" she asks.  "Yup" I say candidly.  "You thought I was going to rub it in that Lyla sleeps through the night...weren't you?" I ask.  "Gosh, if I have to listen to one more mother tell me how well their child sleeps through the night..." she replies.  "Tell me about it." I say.

Some mothers just don't get it.  A mother who has a child that doesn't sleep well through the night doesn't want to sit and listen to you talk about how your child sleeps a peaceful twelve hours.  We get the point. Sleep is great.  It is much better when your eyes are shut.

Then there is a mother's guilt. I actually used to feel bad admitting to other mothers that Lyla wasn't sleeping well.  I kept on thinking that maybe I was doing something wrong.  Maybe it was because every reaction I received was along the lines of "Oh, well maybe in another month or so" or "Susie Sunshine has been sleeping ten hours straight ever since she was born."  Better yet I would get the look.  You know, the "I feel sorry for you" look.  No wonder I thought I was doing something wrong! Thank goodness for my pediatrician, who assured me that this was normal, and thank goodness for the internet. I found a feeling of peace in reviewing online conversational boards between other moms dealing with the same situation...and I learned to cope.  Sometimes you have to remind yourself that every baby is different and each goes at their own pace. And that's okay.

So for now, a little extra coffee each day and a lot of laughter helps make each night a bit easier. Holding Lyla in my arms each night or kissing her forehead when she falls back asleep...and it is all worth it.

A Hot Mess

Image Source

The other day I had a moment...an awakening of sorts.  Maybe it was because my hair was still damp from showering or maybe it was because I was wearing a yoga pants, a t-shirt, and flip flops (which is a common outfit for any given day). Nonetheless this moment decided to make its debut while "passing time" in TJ Maxx with my little Lyla.

Strolling through the entrance my first instinct is to always make my way to the red signs in the back...the good ol' clearance section. I always get so damn giddy when I see those clearance racks. Just call me the ultra Maxxinista. Sure, you really have to sift through countless tranny shirts and moo moo's, but in the end you may find a thing or two worth purchasing. I ended up a with couple of cardigans.  Score! No dressing room needed (and when I have Lyla in tote this is uber convenient). So, I scoped out a distant mirror and wheeled us over to a small nook away from the crowds of women digging through last season's left overs. I started to try on one of the cardigans over my t-shirt, and positioned myself in front of the long mirror. There I was...in all my glory. Then it hit me.

Who the hell was this person staring at me in the mirror?  I looked like I had just rolled out of bed, neglected to drink coffee, and had a bucket of water thrown in my face. I was a hot mess.  Suddenly I was embarrassed that I was even in public at all.  What was I thinking?  I totally understand that having a child changes things...but this...this was too much.  I was supposed to be "Bringing Sexy Back" and here I was looking like a deranged yoga instructor.  I took the cardigan off and made my way towards the exit.

I was cowering behind the shopping cart, hoping that Lyla's carrier would shield anyone from getting a good look at me.  One aisle after the other I began to notice other mothers with their children. They looked beautiful.  Dressed nicely (jeans).  Hair styled.  Make-up on.  Of course their kids were much older, but <sigh> it made me jealous.  I miss my old jeans.  I am sick of these "tweener" jeans.  The jeans you buy because you don't fit in your old ones.  Will I ever get back into the 10 pair I have hanging in my closest?  It's almost been 7 months! I have to do something about this.

I am good at setting goals for myself that always seem to fall through the cracks.  My hair and make- up...well that is an easy fix.  Getting out of yoga pants...I need dedication.  I want to be committed. So I signed myself up for the Tufts Health Plan 10K on October 10th.  It's a start.  6.2 miles is doable.  It is a long enough distance where I can get a good burn and have some time to myself. Just me and the road.  A time to listen to some good tunes and enjoy the cool fall air (although technically it is still summer).  Garrett's hours have been all over the place (sometimes not getting home until 9 PM) so I have been heading to my mother's apartment so she can watch Lyla while I head out for a run.  I have also been thinking about purchasing a used jogger but, for now, I am enjoying the solitude. I am (slowly) turning this hot mess into a hot mom.

Operation HM...I am back.  Take 2. Or is this 3?

Finally Friday: EMERGENCY

Image Source

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yesterday was our very first trip to the ER with Lyla....yes she is only 6 and half months old and already has had a trip to the ER.  I feel like a terrible mother.  Luckily it was an easy fix and she is blowing bubbles at me as we speak (err as you read).  She had "nursemaid's elbow"...silly sounding, I know.  Nursemaid's elbow is when the bone called the radius is pulled slightly "out of joint."  It happens to children up to the age of five and is mostly commonly seen in children who are beginning to walk. The reason for this is because children learning to walk are typically holding someone's hands with outstretched arms.  A small hiccup, like the child tripping, can jerk the arm and pop the bone out of place.

Well, I was sitting with Lyla with her arms outstretched and she quickly jerked and twisted her arm.  As soon as this happened I heard a loud POP...and I knew something was not right.  She cried initially and then started to settle down.  I could feel my heart sinking because I thought I had just broken her wee arm.  I slowly touched the arm (her left) and she would whine and cringe.  How could I tell if it was broken?  My first bright idea...Google it.  Everything I read said to err on the side of caution, so my next move was to call Daddy.  He told me to see if she would reach out for an object in front of or above her.  So I placed her favorite dolly in front of her and watched as she slowly began to reach for her..it looked promising until she began to whimper.  I then tried to put the dolly above her and received the same reaction.  Soon she just refrained from using it at all.  Poor bugger.

So, I called her doctor (of course it was after 5 PM) and the on call service told me to take her into the ER. I had a huge pit in my stomach.  The only thing in my mind was an image of her in a little cast...and that it was my fault.  I know accidents happen, but it really stinks when your child gets hurt when they are in your care.  As a mother, I am supposed to protect and care for her...not break the poor girl's arm. So off we went.

We arrived at the ER a little after 6 PM and we were out by 7 PM.  Pretty darn fast.  She was pretty chipper for a baby that was hurt.  I could even get her to giggle. When the doctor came in he told us that he wasn't going to do an x-ray because he was sure that it was "nursemaid's elbow."  He reached for her arm and did his magic. The worst part was hearing her little cry as he set her elbow back into place.  After settling down she was using her arm in no time. The doc said that it could happen again in the future and that I could easily pop it back into place for her....ummmm no thank you.  I am no Doogie Howser.  So what's next? For the next few weeks we have to be careful...no free standing with her arms out. 

As a parent I am learning new things every day. It's not always ideal to learn the hard way, but hey that's life.  I have never heard of the term "nursemaid's elbow" and would have never known what it meant if this incident didn't happen.  I hope maybe I can give another parent a little peace if a similar situation happens to them.  Remember, don't always assume the worst (although I know that can be hard) and accidents do happen!

Shiit......ake

Image Source

Let's face it, sometimes it feels pretty darn good to throw out a few F bombs.  When you start mixing your own children into the equation, however, you try to be more conscience of what comes out of your mouth.  Of course this doesn't mean that your little "angel" won't pick up a few naughty words from the neighborhood delinquent, but this never stops a parent from trying to keep it clean.

Having a little girl who is 6 months old, I find myself trying to censor what comes out of my (and Daddy's) mouth.  So here are five alternate words we have come up with. Not saying that these are better than the actual swear word itself, but hey at least we are trying to be creative:


1) Mitch:  I am sure one day it will confuse Lyla who this "Mitch" person is.
2) Shiitake... Mushrooms:  Mommy sure does enjoy eating her fungi.
3) Son of a Motherless Goat:  A classic insult from the 1986 movie Three Amigos.
4) Bung Hole: Pirate slang that refers to a hole in a wooden barrel.  Betcha didn't know that one!
5) Mother Frogger: Sounds like a character in a kid's book.

I would love to hear what other kid friendly swear words are out there.  Post a comment and share!

Finally Friday: Milk Jugs

image source

A look inside a "mommy moment" and my thought process thereafter:

Yesterday my mother and I were creating a homemade batch of pureed nectarines for Lyla.  Included in our batch we added some of "mommy's milk" (a cuter way of referring to breast milk).  When the batch was completed my mother prompted me to "taste it."  I gave her a nauseating look.  "It came from you...so why the disgusted look?" she asked.  Good question.  Why can breast milk be so taboo?

Most, if not all,  health professionals are huge advocates of breast feeding due to the many nutrients and antibodies that a mother's milk carries.  It is even recommended that babies are exclusively breast fed for at least the first 6 months of life (according to the American Academy of Pediatrics).  So how is it that something so natural and pure be outright disgusting to the average adult? Maybe this question seems childish, but hear me out.  Americans consume billions of gallons of cow's milk each year...without every really thinking about where it comes from. Just like humans, cows produce milk to nurture their young.  So why is it that if you were to put a cup of my own breast milk in front of me and a cup of cow's milk...I would choose to drink the cow's milk?  

So I gave it a quick stir and opened my mouth (approaching the situation much like when I feed my own daughter) and tasted the pureed nectarines. Yes, I actually swallowed it.  It tasted pretty good.